A quiet life, Saint-Nazaire during the week, Noirmoutier at the weekend. Marc Dumont, his wife Hélène and their twins, have a taste for simple pleasures. On this bleak plain, comes galloping Paul Delacroix, a new colleague of Marc, a computer engineer. Tennis brought them together to the point that at the club, they were soon nicknamed Marc & Paul; their duet is said to be “a form of dance”. Paul has for him charm, presence, “an imperturbable tranquility”, “Marc Dumont would never have dared to say that he found Paul very handsome”, this is nevertheless the case without there ever being any question of desire , but rather of admiration. Then there are dinners for four, their wives appreciate each other, joyful reunions every weekend. This new friendship creates a void around them, it is exclusive and complete, voracious. Marc radiates when Paul appears but he also seems to fade away, he goes along with his tastes, submits to his opinions. “As if Paul’s existence had this ability, to nourish his own, to complete it.” Marc never stops quoting his friend, 45 times a day on average according to his children, with a peak at 58! A perfect friendship, an unexpected and magnificent alignment, before the tocsin sounds, “a form of withering. A weakening of bonds, of feelings”. Paul simply got tired, “the bather is too docile, he doesn’t resist enough. So the child breaks him to relieve boredom.” Marc endures his friendship sorrow before plotting pale revenge… Stéphanie (…)
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