Charles Casus

1. Auflage 2024
ISBN: 978-1-923078-30-7
Verlag: Vivid Publishing
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 900 Seiten

Reihe: Casus

Originally in four volumes, 'Casus' is a compilation of stories which will take you on an intriguing exploration of the human experience, as you witness the intricate dance choreographed by destiny and choice. The characters in these widely different tales navigate a haphazard course through the uncertainties of life. They confront poignant regrets, unexpected encounters, thwarted ambitions, unforeseen consequences, all of which, like the myriad other complexities of existence, challenge our perceptions of fate and free will. This is an intricate tapestry intertwining themes of loss, love and liberation and leaving an enduring impression on both heart and mind.

Although Thomas Charles' heritage is deeply British, he was educated in New Zealand and has worked in Australia most of his adult life. He currently resides in Western Australia.. A lawyer by choice (or circumstance?), Charles has travelled extensively in the Europe of his forbears. He is a persistent reader of English literature and began writing stories himself in what he hopes will be the final decade of his professional career. He is fascinated by the hazardous path we all follow through life, buffeted unceasingly by the winds of fate, yet inexorably led on by our own will towards self-determination.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Charles, Thomas

Leseproben

Two ‘Are you sure it is good still to meet here?’ said Alice. She had stopped next to Peter, close by his side. She didn’t make eye contact. Peter glanced perfunctorily at the café. ‘Of course. I don’t care. You suggested it. Anywhere is fine, now…’ ‘I just thought perhaps… there are all these people now… it is so crowded.’ He turned towards her, made to speak, stopped himself, then continued, biting on each word. ‘It’s a café. It gets busy. People like to come here.’ ‘I know. But… to talk… I mean… it is not very private.’ ‘Private! Hah! This is fine with me!’ ‘You don’t need to be like this… Chéri. It doesn’t need to be like this.’ ‘Let’s just sit, shall we?’ She didn’t answer but led the way, while he followed. They had no bags, no maps, no camera, none of the paraphernalia of tourists. They found a table near the back of the café, in the corner overlooking rue Rambuteau. It was more private there. A small potted hedgerow partially obscured them from the passers-by. They sat in silence, until Peter broke it. ‘You wanted to talk. I don’t know what for, this time. I think you’ve said enough already.’ ‘It is painful for me. Don’t you see that? If you are hurting, I am also. I do not choose this… path, this way, this pain. What has happened has happened.’ ‘That’s no explanation for anything, and you know it. Do you really think that no one’s at fault, no one’s to blame? Is this what you wanted to tell me?’ ‘No, no! It cannot be about blame. That is not fair! I love you. I love you still. I do not hate you. And you cannot blame Philippe. It is not his fault either. He did not want to cause harm!’ ‘Well what did he expect? He didn’t want to cause harm! How can you say that! And frankly I don’t care whether he meant anything or not. It’s what’s happened which caused harm. He couldn’t have been blind. I suppose he just didn’t care. It wasn’t his problem.’ ‘What do you mean?’ They were interrupted by the waiter. He was dressed in the uniform: white shirt, black trousers, black apron, scuffed black shoes. His hair was long and sleeked. Fine strands hung loosely over his eyes. He gave a practised toss of his head as he asked for orders. ‘Bonjour, M’sieur’dame, qu’est-ce que vous voulez?’ Peter spoke with an obvious English accent. ‘Café, s’il vous plaît. Espresso.’ He didn’t order for Alice. She glanced at the waiter, and gave him a fleeting smile of acknowledgement. ‘Perrier, merci, sans glaçons, s’il vous plait,’ she said in effortless French. ‘D’accord… quelque chose à manager? Vous voulez voir le menu…?’ ‘Non, merci,’ Peter responded. ‘Très bien, M’sieur’dame.’ Peter watched the waiter go. Alice repeated her question. ‘What do you mean, Peter?’ ‘You never told me when you fell in love with him, did you? I still don’t know how long you’ve had another lover, how long you’ve had two lovers. Two lovers! Hah! It sounds so easy, so comfortable, when you say it like that. Just like, “Oh I have two coats, one for work, one for the weekend.”’ Alice blushed. She answered quickly. ‘It was never like that! I do not want to tell you about Philippe. You don’t need to know that. It is enough for you to know that he has left me. He has left me because… because I cannot tell him I will love him always.’ ‘Of course, yes, that explains everything. Don’t you see? It explains nothing! Do you think your saying that makes me feel better? How long would you have gone on with your… your charade? How long would you have kept your sordid little secret? It was only after you were afraid of being found out, wasn’t it! After you thought you had no choice.’ ‘Oh, please do not be so cruel! It was so complicated. It is so complicated! I wanted to tell you; so many times, I wanted to explain everything, to tell you the truth. But I did not think you would listen; I did not think you would hear me. You were so… how can I say it… you are so stubborn! I knew you would become angry.’ ‘Angry! And you are surprised about that? We shared everything. I shared everything with you. You meant everything to me. I came to live in Paris because of you. I left my friends, my family, my job. I came to this fucking city for one reason only, to be with you. You knew it! You knew, and you didn’t say anything; just led me on, like a fool!’ ‘No, but it was so different! It wasn’t like that, je te jure! I was afraid of hurting you, and hurting myself. Yes, can you understand that? I loved you, and yet there was Philippe also. He became also a part of my life. But I did not want to lose you!’ ‘For God’s sake, think about what you’re saying. Haven’t you ever heard about being faithful, about being honest?’ ‘But I was being honest! You must believe me! Sometimes I felt such a truth about you, and me. And about Philippe. It was so powerful. I could not be without you… and yet there was him. I did not choose that. But I was afraid; yes, I became so afraid. That is also true. I was so afraid because I knew it could not continue like that. I could not sleep. You used to wonder why I was so often tired. I could not sleep because of my fear. Why do you not say anything? You look at me now, but you do not answer me. Do you not believe me?’ ‘Believe you? Oh, I believe you all right. But I will never understand you, never forgive you… I can never understand how you could… What did you think? When you were with him. Did you think of me? How did you feel? I would like to know that, even though it’s useless now, useless.’ ‘I will tell you. I do not know if it will help you, but you should hear. What does it mean to love someone? Do not look at me like that! It is a question, but there is no answer. Or rather there is not just one answer, there are many. It is different for each person, for each time. But if I speak for myself, I will say my love for you gave me a strength I did not have. I rely on you; I did rely on you. I grew tired often – yes, I know, I have said that. But I could come to you when my own spirit was not so strong, when I was drained and had nothing more to give, and I was exhausted. Just to be with you gave me comfort and I felt safe. If I was weak, I knew you had the strength, enough for both of us. But other times, when I felt stronger, I was a little afraid of you. Yes, it is true. I was afraid. I do not mean about what happened with Philippe, I mean just that you frightened me because you did not seem to need me. You could make a decision without me, always. But with Philippe, it was different. ‘ ‘I don’t understand what you mean. I don’t understand what you’re saying.’ ‘I am trying to answer your question, truthfully. When I was with him – I still wanted to be with you.’ There was no response from Peter, just silence. Oh, there was tension also, something taut, physically taut, stretched, close to breaking. He was hunched forward, his eyes fixed on the ground. Her? She was sitting back in the chair, her hands clasped in her lap, looking at him, intensely. Her eyes were red, the rest of her face ice white under the neon café lights. She was waiting for a response. It came with effort. ‘But how did that make you feel? You went from me to him – from him to me. How could you… How did you… switch?’ ‘It was difficult. Sometimes I had to be by myself, to go somewhere alone. But it was worse then, actually. That was when it was the hardest, when I felt so lost, when I truly did feel alone, without anyone. Then after a time it became unbearable, and I had to rush back… to you… Yes, I know it now, it sounds so cruel, so heartless, even to me, even as I am speaking the words. But it did not seem so to me, then. Each time when I could forget Philippe, I would be so happy to be with you again! Oh, how I could wish you were one and not two; how I wish I could choose what I wanted; how I wish I wouldn’t need to keep secrets and be so careful what I said, and hide, always hide. I didn’t want that!’ ‘You could have stopped, but you didn’t. You would have kept on, God knows for how long, living a lie, afraid of the truth. You would have done that wouldn’t you?’ ‘No Peter! That is not true. I told you about Philippe, remember. You did not find out about him, until I told you.’ ‘I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t imagine... I should have guessed; I should have read the signs. I knew you’d changed, but I didn’t know why you weren’t happy. I didn’t want to admit you’d changed, even though I knew...