Read Online And Then Came Paulette by Barbara Constantine, Justin Phipps - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Barbara Constantine, Justin Phipps
Tags: Fiction / Literary
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ahead without saying a word.
But not for long. Mélie and Mine joined them, in a state of high anxiety.
“We’ve forgotten the Lumière sisters!”
The four men leaped to their feet.
“Oh shit!”
They raced through the house, put on their jackets, went out into the street and stopped by Ferdinand’s car, which was parked nearby. Guy took the keys. He was the only one of the four to have drunk just the one glass of wine. He set off. The other three followed on foot.
The house was barely fifty yards away. When they arrived, they hesitated, embarrassed, trying to work out what their excuses could be. But before they had time to knock the door opened. It was Hortense, who had at that very moment come to her senses.
“We thought the funeral was this morning. Can you imagine? Sometimes I think we’re not quite right in the head!”
The four men bent down to kiss them and Simone started to chuckle. Hortense glared at her, but that didn’t work, it only made her laugh even more.
Hortense was embarrassed and pushed her toward the door.
“Get in the car, Simone!”
And then a little more discreetly:
“Stop messing around. What on earth are they going to think? I’m ashamed of you.”
24
Visiting Guy
Ferdinand. The days following the funeral. Ferdinand went around to see Guy, turning up unexpectedly at his house. If he didn’t answer, Ferdinand would go around and enter by the kitchen, as that door was always open. He had noticed Guy was starting to let himself go, forgetting to eat and bathe, and even, on some days, get out of bed. The only times he made an effort was when Mireille dropped in with the children on Wednesdays and Saturdays. On those days he got dressed, tidied up, and opened the shutters. But the rest of the time he could just sit there, doing nothing. For days on end. It was clear he no longer had an appetite for anything.
Ferdinand was worried. He tried to think of reasons to make Guy go out. He suggested going to the café to see people, say hello to friends, or play a round of dominoes. But Guy wasn’t interested. Apart from Mireille and the children, the one thing that stirred him from his lethargy was talking about Gaby. Only then did he become animated. He needed to remember, to say the words. The idea that he might forget something about her threw him into a panic. Ferdinandlistened. He knew Guy would need time to get used to living without her. It could take months or years. Perhaps the wounds would never heal. Quite possible. One thing was certain: he wouldn’t neglect him. He had given his word. Besides, it would never occur to him to drop a friend.
Marceline. Saturday, after market.
After stacking her crates in the cart, Marceline went to see Guy. She knocked at the door, but there was no answer. No sound from the house, nothing. She went around via the garden and tapped on the window, as she used to do when she came to fetch Gaby to go to the library. Pressing against the pane she could make out a silhouette. Guy was sitting motionless at the kitchen table, staring straight ahead. She opened the door and went in to sit down beside him. Patiently she waited for him to turn and look at her. His eyes were sunk deep in their sockets, as though looking inwards. His voice barely audible.
“Nothing makes sense anymore.”
He wasn’t ashamed to say that to Marceline, she knew how he felt. Gaby had once told him about the sadness in her life.
She stroked the back of his hand. Talked in a low voice:
“I think she’d have wanted you to keep on trying.”
He didn’t want to cry in front of her. Quickly he got up and left the kitchen.
“Would you mind putting on some water to boil, Marceline? I’ll only be a minute. Will you stay and have a cup of tea?”
Mireille. Sunday evening.
The children were in bed, but it was still early and she didn’t feel sleepy. She decided to sweep behind the bar. Roland had alreadygone up to bed. She heard him talking on the telephone, saying:
But not for long. Mélie and Mine joined them, in a state of high anxiety.
“We’ve forgotten the Lumière sisters!”
The four men leaped to their feet.
“Oh shit!”
They raced through the house, put on their jackets, went out into the street and stopped by Ferdinand’s car, which was parked nearby. Guy took the keys. He was the only one of the four to have drunk just the one glass of wine. He set off. The other three followed on foot.
The house was barely fifty yards away. When they arrived, they hesitated, embarrassed, trying to work out what their excuses could be. But before they had time to knock the door opened. It was Hortense, who had at that very moment come to her senses.
“We thought the funeral was this morning. Can you imagine? Sometimes I think we’re not quite right in the head!”
The four men bent down to kiss them and Simone started to chuckle. Hortense glared at her, but that didn’t work, it only made her laugh even more.
Hortense was embarrassed and pushed her toward the door.
“Get in the car, Simone!”
And then a little more discreetly:
“Stop messing around. What on earth are they going to think? I’m ashamed of you.”
24
Visiting Guy
Ferdinand. The days following the funeral. Ferdinand went around to see Guy, turning up unexpectedly at his house. If he didn’t answer, Ferdinand would go around and enter by the kitchen, as that door was always open. He had noticed Guy was starting to let himself go, forgetting to eat and bathe, and even, on some days, get out of bed. The only times he made an effort was when Mireille dropped in with the children on Wednesdays and Saturdays. On those days he got dressed, tidied up, and opened the shutters. But the rest of the time he could just sit there, doing nothing. For days on end. It was clear he no longer had an appetite for anything.
Ferdinand was worried. He tried to think of reasons to make Guy go out. He suggested going to the café to see people, say hello to friends, or play a round of dominoes. But Guy wasn’t interested. Apart from Mireille and the children, the one thing that stirred him from his lethargy was talking about Gaby. Only then did he become animated. He needed to remember, to say the words. The idea that he might forget something about her threw him into a panic. Ferdinandlistened. He knew Guy would need time to get used to living without her. It could take months or years. Perhaps the wounds would never heal. Quite possible. One thing was certain: he wouldn’t neglect him. He had given his word. Besides, it would never occur to him to drop a friend.
Marceline. Saturday, after market.
After stacking her crates in the cart, Marceline went to see Guy. She knocked at the door, but there was no answer. No sound from the house, nothing. She went around via the garden and tapped on the window, as she used to do when she came to fetch Gaby to go to the library. Pressing against the pane she could make out a silhouette. Guy was sitting motionless at the kitchen table, staring straight ahead. She opened the door and went in to sit down beside him. Patiently she waited for him to turn and look at her. His eyes were sunk deep in their sockets, as though looking inwards. His voice barely audible.
“Nothing makes sense anymore.”
He wasn’t ashamed to say that to Marceline, she knew how he felt. Gaby had once told him about the sadness in her life.
She stroked the back of his hand. Talked in a low voice:
“I think she’d have wanted you to keep on trying.”
He didn’t want to cry in front of her. Quickly he got up and left the kitchen.
“Would you mind putting on some water to boil, Marceline? I’ll only be a minute. Will you stay and have a cup of tea?”
Mireille. Sunday evening.
The children were in bed, but it was still early and she didn’t feel sleepy. She decided to sweep behind the bar. Roland had alreadygone up to bed. She heard him talking on the telephone, saying:
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