The Guard by Peter Terrin Page A

the size,” Harry says. “At least. More, I think. Anyway, it will be one of the most beautiful gardens you and Ihave ever walked around in. That’s what I mean. Just magnificent. And you know what it is? The owners, they just look at it. At most they sit in a chair out on the terrace and look at their garden. As if you just look at your stunning wife and never kiss her or pinch her on the butt, let alone do it with her. That’s what it’s like in those circles. A garden is something to look at.”
    Harry digs the dirt out from under his fingernails with his thumbnail. A garden is something to look at. It doesn’t sound like he’s made that up on the spot.
    “It’s a question of days.”
    “Days?”
    “It won’t take much longer. A few days. Maybe a week.”
    We’re standing left and right of the bunkroom door. We are both fully dressed. I’ve washed everything except our suits and caps, carefully soaking the ties, then letting them drip dry from the side of Harry’s bed. I’ve tied knots in both of them, because when Harry puts his on from scratch he ends up with a rock-hard lump halfway up his throat. The last sheet is hung to dry over the chair and the stool, which we have set up in front of the residents’ elevator on our left.
    “But we’ve just been resupplied.”
    “They could bring our replacements in between times too. There are three of them. That’s a lot of people for a full van. Instead they could be part of a special deployment, together with other new guards, in a truck that covers the whole city.”
    “Wouldn’t that be a little risky?”
    “Why?”
    “For the organization, I mean. A truck full of new guards. You could see that as precious cargo.”
    “They’ll scout out the route first, Michel. The truck will be armored and accompanied by elite troops.”
    “Do you think we’ll get to leave right away?”
    “What would we stay here for? There’s three of them.”
    “To clarify certain things. You know. The way things go here in the building.”
    “We jump on the truck and we don’t look back. You hear me? I had to work it out for myself too. There was nobody here.”
    “Nobody?”
    “No,” Harry says. “Nobody. I was the first. Two months later another guard joined me. The way it was actually meant to be from the start.”
    The question about the fate of my predecessor is on the tip of my tongue. I don’t know if the silence that follows means he’s waiting for my question or, inversely, that he doesn’t want to talk about it.
    “There’s three of them,” he says. “They’re better trained than we were. The training keeps getting better. We don’t owe them a thing, Michel, we’ve more than earned our promotion. We’ve served our time, so we shake hands politely, wish them luck and jump on the truck. Headed for a new life. You and me, in a fabulous garden somewhere. Trees, flowers, birds. Waking up to the chirping of sparrows, just like on the farm. But without the stench of pigs and cows, without the racket, without the drudgery. With any luck we’ll be able to pick peaches, oranges and soft sweet pears straight from the trees. What are the owners going to do with all that fruit? Just eat it, they say. The juice runs down our chins. We’re sitting out of the wind on a bench, having a little rest, turning our faces to the sun. Fresh air. Everything is green and blue. Enough to drive you crazy.”
    74
    “I think we’ll be requisitioned.”
    Harry takes another large bite of the piece of bread he’s holding. He keeps staring ahead into the dark corners of the basement, knowing he has my attention.
    “By a resident,” he says, nodding his head to swallow. “It goes against organization practice. The organization prefers animpersonal guard-client relationship. That’s proved more favorable for both parties. In the long term, definitely. But these residents are extremely wealthy. If clients like them have a preference, if they make an explicit request,