Read The Brittle Limit, a Novel for Free Online Page B

diplomat, and the
surprise was replaced by a serene, accepting smile. He took the
handkerchief and tucked it back into its pocket, neat and tidy.
    “Congratulations.”
    “Thank you.”
    Severine reached for the car handle again and
now pushed open the door. The steamy night air flowed into the car,
bringing with it the smells and sounds of early evening, hot oil,
spices and laughter. It was a welcome change after the frigid
forced air of the car. At a nearby bar, a radio played, a tinny
cacophonous sound, the woman’s voice hitting ethereal high
notes.
    One foot on the pavement, but still seated in
the car, Severine turned to Jeremy, whose mouth had settled into a
thin unpleasant line. She started to say something, thought better
of it, and stepped out alone into the welcoming warm night, leaving
the door open behind her.
    On the side street by the car, a lone junk
man wandered down the road, honking his plastic horn and pulling
his pushcart full of bottles, cardboard and junk metal.

Chapter 6
    The short Cambodian waiter buzzed from table
to table, ensuring his guests had adequate coffee, tea, cream, and
sugar for their breakfast. Another napkin? Just one moment. Extra
sauce? Right away. His white uniform was spotless, his jet black
hair brushed back to smooth shine, his wide smile bright and
sincere. He was a perfect waiter.
    It was hectic today, Le Hotel Royale busier
than usual at the end of rainy season. The waiter did not mind.
These well-heeled tourists were polite to him, respectful and
interested. They asked him about his wife, his three children, the
oldest of whom was fifteen, with plans to go to overseas one day.
And these visitors to his country tipped well, appreciative of the
oasis of calm, the excellent service and the friendly manner, which
bolstered them against the unmannered streets. It was a fascinating
city, they’d found, but it had a hard edge, honed and ready.
    The Hotel attracted all sorts, some drawn by
the sweet mystique of Jackie O’s famous cocktail served at the
hotel’s venerable Elephant Bar; others to the proximity to Wat
Phnom and bustling Sisowath Quay, its shops a mecca of silk and
guide books, only a short walk down the street.
    Basking like turtles in the morning sun,
guests enjoyed their morning meals on the balcony, the clink and
clank of silverware on china and quiet hum of conversation
accompanied by the buzz of blue dragonflies that flitted among the
clay flower pots that lined the patio. People, excited to be on
holiday, plotted their course through town: The Silver Pagoda, Tuol
Sleng, so much to see in such a small city. Although rain was
predicted for later, the tourists were undaunted. They would simply
duck, laughing as they escaped the massive rain drops, into one of
the endless cafes that peppered the city.
    Outside the hotel, tuk-tuks waited in the
street for the first guests to depart. They were not allowed to
drive their tuk-tuks on to the pristine hotel grounds until called
for by the concierge.
    Severine took a bite of her dry toast, as she
listened to the other guests talk. She’d decided en route home last
night that she was not ready to face her apartment yet. She’d go
home later, after a day of work. The children would distract her,
make her smile. Then perhaps she could handle going home.
    She turned the page of the Phnom Penh Post,
not reading, but turning the pages for the familiar feel of paper
on her fingers.
    She didn't feel Andrew's eyes on her as he
watched her from the pool bar.
    *******
    He had seen her on his way out of the hotel;
her photo had made an impression. He had planned to call her later
but decided to take advantage of this opportunity. But first, for a
moment, he studied her before his approach. Andrew thought she
looked resigned. And tired. But who wouldn’t be, he thought, after
what she had been through.
    Andrew too was tired. When he’d left the
embassy last night he’d gone sightseeing. When he was on a case, he
liked to get the