Double Room by Anne Sénès (t. Alice Banks) BLOG TOUR #AnneSenes #DoubleRoom @OrendaBooks #BookExtract

 

A grief-stricken composer slips into a world where sound and colour blur, and the present collides with a devastating past..

London, late 1990s. Stan, a young and promising French composer, is invited to arrange the music for a theatrical adaptation of The Picture of Dorian Gray. The play will never be staged, but Stan meets Liv, the love of his life, and their harmonious duo soon becomes a trio with the birth of their beloved daughter, Lisa. Stan’s world is filled with vibrant colour and melodic music, and under his wife and daughter’s gaze, his piano comes to life.

Paris, today. After Liv’s fatal accident, Stan returns to France surrounded by darkness, no longer able to compose, and living in the Rabbit Hole, a home left to him by an aunt. He shares his life with Babette, a lifeguard and mother of a boy of Lisa’s age, and Laïvely, an AI machine of his own invention endowed with Liv’s voice, which he spent entire nights building after her death.

But Stan remains haunted by his past. As the silence gradually gives way to noises, whistles and sighs – sometimes even a burst of laughter – and Laïvely seems to take on a life of its own, memories and reality fade and blur...

And Stan’s new family implodes...

Double Room by Anne Sénès was published by Orenda Books on 19 June 2025 and is translated from the French by Alice Banks. As part of this Blog Tour, I am delighted to share an extract from the book with you today. 

Extract from Double Room by Anne Sénès (translated by Alice Banks) 

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‘Téo, get a move on, you’re going to be late!’ A grunt, heavy footsteps on the stairs and Téo appears in the kitchen, unkempt, hunched over as if he were carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, sporting a T-shirt from the day before, and the day before that.

I open my mouth, then close it again. It’s not worthcommenting on. The kid couldn’t care less.

This T-shirt, made in Bangladesh, 100% cotton,machine wash at 40°C recommended, has been wornfor three consecutive days and nights. According to theWorld Health Organisation, it would be suitable to...

I hold back a smile that is inevitably erased when Téo strikes out at Laïvely, shutting her up. Bab, half in earnest, half in jest, pipes up, ‘Since when did that thing have eyes?’

It’s true. Since when has Laïvely been able to see us? In fact, can she see us? Or is she simply able to smell the odour that is emanating from Téo as he settles down in front of his cereal and mug of fair- trade coffee? Because, yes, he stinks. As soon as he lifts his mug to carry it to his lips, all the while stooping his neck to avoid too big a movement that would be detrimental to his hunched back, a sweet- and-sour aroma wafts towards my nose. But there’s no reason Laïvely should have a sense of smell. That’s not what I was aiming for when I created her.

I scrunch up my nose and avoid responding to Bab, who has already moved on to something else. She’s preparing her lunch box to take to the swimming pool with her. A few months ago, when she and Téo had just moved in, she would come back to have lunch with me. She had the time. Then, little by little, she started to take up this new habit, always with a good excuse: a break cut short due to a colleague being off sick, a private lesson that had been added to her schedule, the need to run an errand. Without me ever really realising, our lunches for two have become an exception. Now, she doesn’t return to the house until her day has come to an end. And for my part, I don’t offer to meet her for a picnic at Buttes-Chaumont, or at a brasserie in the neighbourhood so we can spend a romantic couple of hours together. I have neither the desire nor the courage.

Lisa has already left for school. I finish my coffee pensively. Two little notes have been obsessing me for days, yet I still haven’t been able to extract a melody from them. Maybe I would if I went for a walk? No, I’ll be better off in my studio, with my instruments. What’s more, the weather is unpredictable. There’s a risk of rain. I don’t feel like getting soaked.

Téo finishes and leaves everything spread across the table, his place adorned with varying and diverse stains. Before I can venture even the smallest criticism, his mother has already piled the dirty dishes in the sink, wiped a sponge across the table and put the milk back in the fridge.

I sigh. Is she just on autopilot, or is it a tactic to avoid yet another argument about the kids? Laïvely flickers softly. It’s like she’s winking. Having made sure that Bab’s back is truly turned, I wink back at her. On top of everything else, there’s no need to provoke a fit of jealously that a tube stuffed with electronics doesn’t merit being the object of.

Anne Sénès was born in Paris and studied at the Sorbonne, where she obtained a PhD in English studies. 

Her passion for Anglo-Saxon literature and culture has taken her all over the world, from London to Miami, passing through the south of France. 

She is currently based on the Mediterranean coast, where she works as a journalist and translator. 

Chambre Double (Double Room) is her first literary novel.