My October Read Online Free PDF

walls were white.
    The bedroom was the only room with more than one window. Luc had seen enough by then to deter any rational prospective tenant. If the appearance weren’t enough, the smell ought to have been a warning. But he swept these impressions to the back of his mind. He was standing inside a place he had imagined in loving detail, had never failed to mention to every class in a decade of teaching. A place of legend. Physical ugliness was appropriate here. It ought to smell and look like poverty. The place was exactly as he had pictured it when he’d opened the novel for that first, magical reading years ago. It was exactly as Gabrielle Roy had described. He glanced at Marie-Soleil, trying to telegraph his gratitude, but she was busy tapping the walls and testing the light switches. He imagined his desk pushed up in front of the larger of the two windows, the one looking east over the tracks. There would be morning light in his workroom. He would watch the sun rise, the beautiful fragile first glow. The corner was not big, but he was certain his desk would fit. It had to. Yes, it was perfect.
    â€œYou did an excellent job cleaning up,” Luc said, to be agreeable.
    Gagnon held up fat fingers. “I had to hire three guys. Three guys—can you imagine?—to get it into shape. Top to bottom, paint, exterminators, the works. I even installed a new toilet.”
    â€œFine job,” said Luc, tapping the bedroom wall. Exterminators. He looked more closely at the crack separating the floor from the wall. There didn’t seem to be bugs, at least not in daylight. He hoped to God there was nothing bigger.
    The oxblood floor tilted. Drop a pencil and it would roll. The rent Gagnon wanted was criminally high. But Luc Lévesque was in love.
    Marie-Soleil had not said a word. She was pacing now, hands clasped behind her as if forcibly restraining herself from joining in the men’s conversation. Monsieur Gagnon glanced at her, mildly amused.
    â€œThere will be just the two of you?”
    Marie-Soleil stopped mid-step. Then she laughed.
    â€œJust me,” Luc said quickly. “I’ll be using it as an office.”
    Monsieur Gagnon frowned. “This is a residential space, monsieur. Not commercial.”
    â€œThat’s perfect, then. I’m not a commercial man.”
    Marie-Soleil laughed again. “He’s a writer,” she said, taking his arm and giving it an appreciative squeeze. She was flirting with him, verging on proprietary, but Luc didn’t mind. He drank in the warmth of her touch.
    Monsieur Gagnon stared.
    â€œYou’ve heard of him, I’m sure.” She pronounced Luc’s name again, in full this time, for the fat man’s benefit, her tongue darting and pink, like a cat’s.
    â€œForgive me, Monsieur Lévesque! What an honour this is!” Gagnon said, speaking fast. He confessed that he hadn’t actually read any of Luc’s books, although he certainly would, now that they had met in the flesh. He didn’t read books as a rule, you see, not fiction at any rate, just newspapers and magazines, buthe had certainly heard of Luc Lévesque. Seen him on television. Luc had won a prize, hadn’t he? Refused it? Monsieur Gagnon couldn’t remember why, but it had been in the papers. What an honour it would be to have him as a tenant …
    Gagnon was talking about the Governor General’s Award Luc had refused on nationalist principle. Luc wouldn’t go into it now, wouldn’t say anything to jeopardize this deal, although Gagnon was probably a nationalist himself. But maybe not. People surprised you.
    Marie-Soleil interrupted Luc’s thoughts. Since Monsieur Lévesque would be on his own, she said, writing his books in peace and quiet, surely Monsieur Gagnon would consider lowering the rent.
    Monsieur Gagnon looked from her to Luc. “She is your daughter, Monsieur Lévesque?”
    Luc reddened and shook his