While he’s dumping the slices into the salad bowl, two pieces escape and fall on the kitchen floor. It doesn’t take more than a second for Sherlock, crouching underneath the Formica table, to dart out and gulp it all down. Tail wagging gaily with the regularity of a metronome, he goes back as if nothing had happened, thereby avoiding any scolding. In the living room, he licks his chops in front of a reclining Daisy—queenly, unmoved. Ferdinand can’t stop rubbing his eyes. He still doesn’t believe it. Daisy is there. So beautiful! So beautiful that some scoundrel got her pregnant. So beautiful that Dr. Durand had wanted to keep her, after she finished nursing her litter of puppies.
That Mrs. Suarez drove him up the wall right until the end. Lying to him to make him fly off the handle. Lying to the kennel by telling them an older gentleman in her complex had suddenly gone for a long stay in the hospital. Lying to her husband. All that just to die without achieving what she really wanted: Ferdinand’s departure. As Mr. Suarez concedes, “She wasn’t fundamentally evil, just a little pigheaded, sometimes.”
Ferdinand decides to visit her grave. It’ll be a walk for the dogs. And then it’ll be the perfect place to dump the contents of the urn filled with the ashes of a poor Great Dane that Dr. Durand had given to Mrs. Suarez in order to stage her horrible ruse. Why had the veterinarian agreed to such a thing? Ferdinand will never know. He didn’t think to ask for explanations when he went to the vet’s with Mr. Suarez to implore him to give back his dog. He didn’t have to make too many arguments. Daisy’s joyous barks and frantic jumping as soon as she heard her old master’s voice were sufficient.
Ferdinand takes new plates out from under their protective cloths. He doesn’t even have three matching plates. This will do for today, but he’ll have to invest in new dishes. He’ll ask Madeleine to help him, it being a given that Juliette eats over at his house as often as his daughter and grandson. Oh, Madeleine . . . Ferdinand can’t wait to see her again. Even if their relationship is platonic, just being with her, laughing with her, holding her hand, sitting side by side on a bench, does him a world of good.
The caramelized aroma emanating from the oven brings Ferdinand back to reality. He checks on his gratin dauphinois and finds it’s crusty on top and well browned, ready for the table. In the kitchen, they’re a little cramped. The three occupants are more tired than hungry, and the conversation barely follows any kind of logic. Each is lost in his or her own thoughts: you could hear a fly buzz if Sherlock weren’t teasing Daisy.
Alexandre, staring off into space, sees the little beagle nibbling at the big dog’s dangling ear. His eyelids are drooping; it’s time for him to go to bed. Marion is looking over every nook and cranny in the room. This kitchen, now dated, was her favorite room, always perfumed with the fragrance of flan, warm French toast, or rice pudding. She even surprises herself by noticing the place’s undeniable cleanliness.
As for Ferdinand, he’s thinking about the long day waiting for him tomorrow. The compatibility test. Even though for him there’s nothing worse than medical tests, he’s not afraid. He’s even serene. He’d really like to do this for his grandson, not out of competition or jealousy. Just because his family needs him, and because, for the first time in his life, he can be useful—he, Ferdinand Brun. He can do something good. For someone else.
Acknowledgments
Although Out of Sorts ends here on these pages, the adventure began a little over a year ago, in a café in Milan.
The journey was unusual for a first novel, since it followed the path of self-publication. On a whim, I placed the fate of my manuscript in the hands of unknown readers, to get an honest opinion, but also out of fear—fear of a negative response from established publishers. And that was the book’s first step out into the world. All of a sudden, Ferdinand met his audience. Some, touched by the story, wrote to me; they’d laughed, been moved, or had changed their lives somehow after reading, by reaching out to a grumpy loved one, for example. These messages turned my life upside-down more than I’d ever imagined.
Therefore, I’d like to start by addressing my sincerest thanks to the first, anonymous readers of Out of Sorts. Without you, these pages could have remained nothing but forgotten sheets covered with inconsequential black lines. I can’t mention each person by name, because Ferdinand charmed thousands of readers, but each message I received brought me immense joy and drove me to finish my second novel.
This incredible buzz surrounding a self-published novel attracted the attention of major publishing houses, the same ones I hadn’t dared send my manuscript to. With the unwavering support of Anne-Laure Vial and Eric Bergaglia from Amazon KDP France, whose coaching for young self-published authors is invaluable, Out of Sorts encountered a fantastic editor, Gabriella Page-Fort, from Amazon Publishing. My thanks to her for her enthusiasm from the very first read-through, for her confidence, and for giving me this magnificent opportunity to achieve a childhood dream. Thanks to Wendeline Hardenberg for her faithful translation—not easy to do with all those “Frenchy” idioms—which will allow the novel to be read in all four corners of the globe, far beyond what I could have imagined. And an enormous thank-you to the whole Amazon Publishing team for their expertise and immeasurable support. You’ve given another life to our crotchety old Ferdinand.
Finally, the following people have accompanied me throughout this incredible adventure, reading the first drafts full of typos, searching for resemblance to their loved ones, fretting with me over the first few weeks of self-publication as well as at every launch in a new country. Their support means everything to me, and I would be nothing without them: my incredible husband, Olivier; my adorable son, Jules; my best friend and first reader, Chinda; my parents, Corinne and Michel; my family and friends! From the bottom of my heart, merci.
About the Author
Aurélie Valognes was born and raised close to Paris, France. After business school studies, she began working for American companies and spent the early part of her career as a brand manager, working and traveling across Europe. Only when she and her husband had the opportunity to move from their home country for an international assignment in Italy did Aurélie rekindle her love for writing. Out of Sorts (originally published as Mémé dans les orties) became a bestseller in France. It has been translated into many languages. She lives in Milan with her husband and three-year-old son and is working on her second novel.
For more information, visit:
Website: www.aurelie-valognes.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/aurelievalognesauteur
Twitter: @ValognesAurelie
About the Translator
Wendeline A. Hardenberg first became curious about translation as an undergrad at Smith College, where she ultimately translated part of a novel from French as a portion of her honors thesis in comparative literature. After receiving a dual master’s degree in comparative literature (with a focus on translation) and library science at Indiana University Bloomington, she has gone on to a dual career as a translator and a librarian. Her first translation for AmazonCrossing, Jacques Vandroux’s Heart Collector, was published in February 2015. Learning new languages and trying to translate from them is one of her favorite hobbies. She lives in New Haven, Connecticut.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
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br /> Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
About the Translator
Out of Sorts Page 14