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Chapter 11 – Beyond Death and Reason
Toulouse, France, 2005
Flashback
Barrelling down the cobblestone streets, an older brother chased after his younger sister in the fading afternoon light. Carefree giggles escaped from her lips as the girls easy-going brother failed to catch her.
"Fili! Arrêter de courir! (Ophelia! Stop Running!)" The young boy yelled to her, laughter bubbling from his stomach as he caught up to her. He wrapped his arms around his baby sister's torso and spun her in a circle.
Ophelia shrieked in excitement, kicking her legs in the air as the taller boy stumbled around. When she was let back onto the ground, ten-year-old Ophelia had to catch her breath.
"J'ai gagné (I won)." She breathed out heavily.
"Si je dis oui, serez-vous gentil avec M. Bordeaux? (If I say yes, will you be nice to Mr Bordeaux?)" He sternly asked the younger girl, bending down slightly to look her in the eye.
"Peut-être que si vous me donnez un kinder bueno. (Maybe if you give me a kinder Bueno)." She cheekily grinned.
"J'abandonne. (I give up.)." He rolled his eyes, holding out his hand for Ophelia to take.
"Louis, j'suis une grande fille. (Louis, I'm a big girl)." She grouched with her arms crossed. A childish pout on her lips.
The thirteen-year-old ignored his whining little sister and took her hand. Their maman couldn't pick Ophelia up today, held back for an extra shift at her job as a nurse. So, Louis had to step up and take his kid sister home.
Their father certainly wouldn't.
The two children entered a quaint apartment that was across from a hardware store. Their earlier smiles and laughter fading to demure frowns and bend heads. From the outside it looked like a cosy home for a loving family.
But as the door opened the stench of beer and old sweat permeated the air. Smoke from cheap cigars wafted in the empty space, creating a nauseating aroma that the two children had learnt to block all their lives.
Sat in front of the small tv was the visage of a daunting man. A scowl etched on his face that made him look permanently enraged. Closely cropped blond hair that matched Ophelia's, a paler more lifeless shade. His hands big enough to crush skulls in his free time but currently flicking the end of a cigar as he watched the news. Muscled tree like arms clashed with the portly belly of the man.
Everything about Pierre Belcourt was broad and intimidating.
Ophelia and Louis rushed to the kitchen as quietly as possible. Doing everything in their power to not make him notice their arrival.
