Originally Posted by Ludens
I actually have a quite decent part of monologue-reflexion but I wrote it after I posted chapter 0 and I didnt want to disturb the flow so I'll stick that in whenever the occasion presents itself.
The dialogue. Well, I don't know. It seems like every author does it differently, I'ver read a lot of people that use hyphens and probably just as many who use quotation marks...
See, at first my idea was to use quotation marks for inner "thinking" or internal monologues, but as the story is told from a very subjective point of view, I thought that would be unnecessary....
Thanks all for the comments and the kind words.
Well, luckily I've had a bit of free time tonight, so I've finished Chapter 4 and here it is for you:
Chapter 4
Ismael’s office was big and well illuminated with expensive furniture and leather armchairs for guests and a small coffee table made of black marble. There was a computer on his table, a telephone with a lot of buttons and a bronze head that served for decoration and as a paperweight.
- So she refused, then? – Ismael de Clare towered over his desk. I thought it was probably the same position he used to intimidate his employees. My partner looked unimpressed as he was sitting in the comfortable armchair covered in black leather.
- That is correct. We can provide you with the contact details if you want them. – he said in a voice that sounded as if he was giving de Clare a lesson in etiquette.
- But you expect full payment…- de Clare added in a quieter tone as he walked towards the window.
- Of course. We found the people you asked us to find and we are now giving up the information you provided us with. – I put a few folders on the table and sat back again.
Ismael considered us for a moment. You could tell he was trying to decide if he should try and push us further. For what though? We were giving him the information he was entitled to have, and we did the job he asked us to do. Maybe he was thinking if we have been digging in his legal affairs.
Finally he took a chequebook from a drawer in a table, looked at me and then my partner again and then at my partner’s hat on the table, and then filled in the cheque. And I was far from imagining that that is where all our problems would start. I mean, a cheque was a very promising beginning for a business relationship.
My partner was silent, for a change, for a very long time as we made our way down to the Spui and sat in the Luxembourg. His hands were playing with the hat on the table and he seemed to ignore the beer completely.
- What is wrong? – I asked. I didn’t feel the best with myself either and I was irritated although I tried to convince myself that we were just being professional and that it was ok for a father to know the whereabouts of his daughter.
- I don’t know. - he barked. – I just don’t think this is right. He didn’t look concerned about them. Did he ever ask about what did she look like? No he didn’t. – That wasn’t of much importance, but I think my partner just wanted something to hang on to.
Surprisingly although I was arguing against him, I wanted something to hang on to as well. Maybe I was expecting him to give me some argument that would convince me to do something about it. I don’t know.
- He is the father, though. – I was giving him the same stuff I was giving my brain, with the same result.
- He is a gambler. – Apparently my partner didn’t believe in redemption.
- Well, then you are a gambler too on your scale. – It was a bit harsh, but I was irritated and we knew each other for a long time. Time gives you certain privileges.
- Sarah didn’t leave, did she? – there was bitterness there. And anger. And something fragile as well.
He remained silent. Then sipped his beer and left.
I didn’t stop him.
I stayed there. Finished my beer. Then I finished my partner's. And then ordered another one.
Finally I was able to take a deep breath in and look around me leaving the worries of the day somewhere in the back of my head, to be dealt with tomorrow.
My partner’s hat was still on the table.
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