Monet's Angels

by Jennifer Pulling

  Suddenly he pulled away from her and was busy with his trousers. She watched him pull out a great erect penis, it seemed dark and huge and shining and she stared at it, fascinated.

  ‘Lie down,’ he said again, ‘lie down.’

  ‘No, Michel.’

  ‘Come on,’ he said and his voice was harsh, ‘come on, Judith.’

  ‘I’m frightened.’

  ‘Shh no, I will be gentle… please.’

  She let drop her hand and he knelt up above her, pushing this great thing inside her, slowly at first but then as he lost control, harder, much harder. She caught her breath on a stab of pain, heard his strange cry and then he fell against her, holding her breast and murmuring French words in her ears.

  Judith lay with her eyes closed, smiling to herself. My God, I’ve done it, she told herself. She raised her head and they kissed, then she felt him stiffen.

  ‘Shh, there’s somebody coming.’

  ‘No, it’s just a bird or something.’ She didn’t want to move but continue to lie there and for him to kiss her again.

  Now he was nervous. ‘Come on, we’d better go.’

  They dressed in silence and stealthily made their way down to the garden’s lower level. Here Michel paused and put his hands on her shoulders so that she saw the gleam of his eyes.

  ‘You were a virgin?’

  She nodded.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry at all.’

  He held her close and she leaned her face against his shoulder. I’ve done it, she thought again.

  ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said. ‘And the next day and the next…’

  She remembered something. ‘Not Sunday.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I am going to Rouen.’

  ‘Who are you going with?’

  ‘Oh Michel, are you jealous?’

  ‘Of course I am jealous.’

  ‘There’s no need. It’s just the old man.’

  – THIRTY –

  ROBERT

  M

  adame Baudy asked Robert if she could have a quiet word with him. Her expression was solemn. Puzzled, he followed her into the dining room where the tables had already been cleared after breakfast.

  She glanced around as if afraid of being overheard, then spoke in a low voice, ‘I am sure it is all quite innocent, the young lady is educated and well behaved but…’ she broke off, seeming embarrassed.

  Robert felt a stab of apprehension. ‘You’re speaking of Mademoiselle Judith, I suppose?’

  ‘Yes, M’sieur Harrison, the thing is this, she has fallen into the habit of entertaining a young man here at the hotel. They walk in the garden until sometimes quite late.’ She clasped her hands. ‘I understand what it is to be young, God knows I do and I am a broad minded woman but tell me, m’sieur, do you think it correct that a young lady should be alone in the garden with this young man? You see, the staff has begun to gossip. I would not want anything to mar our reputation. They say he works at Le Pressoir, as a gardener.’ She shrugged. ‘Not really the kind of companion for a young lady of her class, I would say.’

  Damn, thought Robert, I knew I should have kept a closer eye on her, whatever Harry said. I warned her and she hasn’t taken the slightest notice. Now it’s all round the hotel. Soon the whole of Giverny will be talking about it. Silly little girl, can’t she see what’s she‘s doing?

  He tried to make light of it. ‘I’m certain you are right, Madame Baudy, that they are just enjoying each other’s company. But as you say, you don’t want gossip. I’ll have a word with Mademoiselle Judith and explain you would rather they did not continue so.’

  ‘Oh would you, m’sieur? It’s very kind of you.’

  Robert saw there was something else on her mind; a sly expression had crept into her eyes.

  ‘I am sure you will not offend the young lady. She is a good customer, m’sieur, you understand? I have been serving her some of my finest champagne.’

  Robert nodded. ‘I understand, madame. I shall be diplomatic.’

  ‘Good.’ She rose. ‘Can I offer you coffee?’

  Robert shook his head, he needed to speak to Harry. He found him in the studio working on a canvas. It was a picture of the market in Vernon, full of gesticulating figures and the brilliance of a flower and fruit stall. Robert paused in the doorway and admired his friend’s powerful shoulders, the curve of his neck. Sensing his presence, Harry sighed, laid down his brush and turned to him.

  Robert smiled. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt you but this is important. Listen, I know we discussed cancelling my trip to Rouen but something has happened which means I need to talk to Judith.’

  ‘I thought you said you had had enough of that girl.’

  ‘I’m anxious about her, not as much about her but the effect she is having on people here. I want to persuade her to go back home.’

  Harry grunted. ‘If you can do that, I’m right behind you.’

  ‘I think it is time she went. I really believe that if she stays in Giverny much longer she is going to do real damage.’

  ‘Aren’t you being a little over dramatic? She is only a silly, spoilt girl.’

  But Robert was serious. From the moment he first saw her, he said, he had had this feeling she might stop at nothing to achieve what she wanted. It seemed he had been right. It wouldn’t be long before the entire focus of Giverny would be upon her and, by extension, the other Americans at Hotel Baudy. ‘We’ve had such a happy life here, I don’t want it to change.’

  ‘It already has,’ remarked Harry. ‘She’s poisonous, in my opinion.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s quite that. I sense something unknown about her, almost as if when she acts it is with a kind of blindness, as if something drives her. I don’t know how to explain it.’ He hesitated, trying to grasp what he meant to say. ‘A kind of force, I suppose. Somehow you can’t even blame her because I don’t think she understands the effect of what she does.’

  Harry gave a short laugh. ‘Now you are letting your imagination run away with you. All she does is drink cocktails and wheedle her way in to seeing Monet. Annoying but hardly dangerous.’

  He decided not to tell Harry about his conversation with Madame Baudy, his friend would immediately jump to conclusions. He had had enough of the judgements on his own life, criticism of the way he wished to live. He felt he wanted to give the girl the opportunity of explaining herself. ‘You must see I need to have this time with her away from Giverny.’

  Harry was growing impatient; he kept glancing at his painting, obviously longing to get back to it. ‘Okay, go, but get rid of her, that’s all. I’m sick and tired of seeing her lounging about the place and of you wasting your time.’

  ‘Harry, don’t be angry.’

  He had already turned back to the canvas. ‘Go, I said. At least she’ll be out of the way and I can do a good day’s work.’

  Robert left him and took out his annoyance on the De Dion-Bouton, cleaning and polishing his precious automobile until it glowed in the afternoon sunshine. Judith remarked on it when they came out of the hotel the following morning.

  Robert paused for a moment to gaze about him. Weeks had passed since the day he had brought her here and she had exclaimed on the hollyhocks. Now they were going past their best, sagging a little on their tall stems. The roses bloomed on, but all too soon there would come the autumn flare of golds and scarlets, the dahlias and zinnias. Fallen leaves would mat the paths on country walks. The seasons moved inexorably from one to the next. He was struck by the brevity and fragility of his life in the face of nature and felt an irrational fear that, for some reason, he would have to leave this place he loved so much.

  Judith, looking very young in her sailor blouse, was unconcernedly enjoying the morning. She held her face up to the sun and closed her eyes. ‘What a heavenly day to go junketing in your beautiful car.’

  They sped
along the road and soon reached Vernon, Judith humming a ragtime tune then breaking off to urge him to go faster. ‘You’re crawling along, Robert, everyone is passing you.’

  ‘Okay, young lady, if you really want to see what my beauty can do.’

  He put down his foot and they careered along the road, she laughing with delight. But soon Robert slowed down.

  ‘That’s enough.’

  ‘Oh don’t be a killjoy.’

  ‘I’m not, I just want to get us to Rouen in one piece.’

  By the time they arrived and found a place to park the car, it was eleven and Judith said she was hungry. They made their way to the Place du Vieux-Marché and sat outside at a pavement café table. Robert ordered.

  Judith appeared ravenous, biting into her croissant and sipping her coffee.

  ‘How good it tastes,’ she exclaimed. ‘So good. I don’t think I’ve ever had such coffee or felt so happy.’

  He wondered at the sheer exhilaration about her, she seemed to be hugging a delicious secret, gazing about her with a smile on her face. He saw through her eyes the play of the fountain, heard the cries from the market stalls and smelled the scent of roses, carnations and jasmine. It seemed heartless to broach the subject of her departure from Giverny. He would leave it until later, when they had visited the city.

  ‘More of those wood-framed houses,’ she commented, catching his eye. ‘Aren’t they cute?’

  Cute? That gnarled wood, dark, rough-hewn, thick and heavy. Those houses were built to last for centuries. They seemed to symbolise continuity and permanence amid the impermanence of life until it struck one that their essence was the link between you, past generations, and generations to come. Man might be fragile but his creations left his footprint long after he had disappeared.

  ‘Think of it,’ Judith was saying. ‘Emma Bovary saw these when she came to town to meet her lover. And these streets were the ones where she rode round and round with him in the carriage.’

  Robert came out of his dream. Judith’s perspective of Rouen was obviously different to his. ‘You know the book very well.’

  ‘Yes, I do. I have read it so many times.’

  The plate of croissants was empty, their coffee finished. Judith suggested impatiently they paid the bill and moved on.

  ‘I want to see all the places she went to.’

  They walked under the great astrological clock and along the street named after it. They came to Cathedral Square where they stopped to gaze at the soaring building covered in lacy Gothic stonework, dominated by its three towers. Inside, the light streamed through the glass windows, carpeting the flagstones with their colours. A silver lamp burned in the choir and there was the sweet smell of incense in the air. They walked round the walls.

  ‘This is where Leon waited for Emma,’ Judith murmured.

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Leon, he was her lover. Oh look, there is the blue window with the boatmen carrying baskets. He was staring at that when she arrived. She had brought a letter for him, saying she couldn’t carry on with the affair and then… oh yes, I see it over there, she went into that chapel and prayed.’

  Robert, who had been inside the cathedral many times, thought that he had never had such a tour as this one. Judith seemed to be finding her way around by memory or at least memory of the book she had read.

  ‘So what did they do after that?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, a man came up to them, he was the beadle, and suggested he give them a tour of the church. Leon wanted to drag Emma away but she insisted on being shown round. It’s a marvellous scene, he is bursting to get her on her own and she is trying to resist him.’

  Robert glanced at his watch. Time was moving on and he was determined to speak to her before they left Rouen. They left the cathedral and continued along the cobbled streets. They visited the Musée des Beaux Arts and wandered happily among the paintings and sculptures. They moved through the fifteenth century, gazing at Perugino and then on to the sixteenth, where they admired Rubens, Velázquez and Poussin. Then it was the turn of the eighteenth century, a temple to art. Finally they came to an impressionist collection and there was Rouen cathedral, seen by Monet at all times of the day.

  Robert still hadn’t spoken to Judith. He glanced at his watch once more. ‘Time for some lunch, I think.’

  Over the sole, which they were told had come from Dieppe, Judith began to speak of Emma Bovary again.

  ‘Once he had got her into that carriage, they made the driver go all over the city, all day. Can you guess what they were doing?’ She laughed and took a gulp of cider. ‘All day!’

  Robert grunted. ‘I bet that book was a scandal when it came out.’

  ‘Oh, it was but then Flaubert led a very exotic life.’

  The sole was delicious, it had arrived with prawns and mussels in a rich creamy sauce. He noticed that Judith was once again eating with appetite. There was something different about her, he thought. She appeared less conscious of herself, more dreamy.

  He helped himself to more potatoes and decided it was time to speak.

  ‘Judith?’

  She was sipping her cider and gazing around, again with that secret smile.

  ‘There is something we have to talk about.’

  ‘How serious you sound, Robert.’

  ‘Well yes, this is rather serious, I’m afraid.’ He sighed. ‘There is no easy way of saying this so I’ll be blunt. I think it is time for you to plan to go home.’

  ‘What?’ She set down her glass and stared at him.

  ‘That is what I think.’

  ‘But why? I am having such a wonderful time here. Why do you want to spoil it?’

  ‘That is the problem,’ he continued. ‘You may be enjoying yourself but you’re causing problems for the people here with your behaviour. Don’t deny it, Judith, you have been seen entertaining a young man in the hotel garden. I’ve told you before, things like this are not done here, but you have taken no notice.’

  She laughed at him then. ‘Oh, always so prim, Robert, prim and proper. This is done, that is not done.’

  ‘I am not prim and proper,’ he protested. ‘Far from it, but I do have some respect for the society I am living in. Here, young women of your class are chaperoned. It would bring shame on their families if they played fast and loose as you are doing.’

  ‘Fast and loose!’ Judith smiled. ‘Is that what you think I am? Come on, Robert, you’re a Yank, too. Everyone does it in the States.’

  ‘Well this is not the States, Judith,’ he insisted.

  There was a pause. Judith took out her compact and inspected her face. He felt annoyance rising inside him.

  ‘Have you always been middle-aged, Robert?’ She closed the compact with a snap. ‘I can’t believe that. Surely there must have been a time when you went around with young ladies?’

  ‘No, Judith.’ The conversation had taken a different turn but he decided to continue on it.

  ‘What?’ her eyes widened. ‘Never?’

  ‘Never.’ He drew a breath. ‘I have never gone around, as you put it, with young ladies because… well, because I am the reverse side of the medal, you see.’

  She doesn’t understand, he thought. Mademoiselle Judith is not as worldly as she tries to make out.

  ‘Queer,’ he said. ‘I am queer, Judith.’

  A series of expressions passed over her face, not surprise as much as understanding, followed by slight amusement, and then slyness crept into her gaze. ‘I see,’ was all she said.

  In that moment, Robert realised too late he had played into her hands. He who had held the power felt it shift. The longing to bring things out in the open, to say those words out loud had overwhelmed him. For that instant, it had felt such a wonderful release but now she had that knowledge, would she keep it to herself. ‘This is between us, you understand?’ he murmured.

  ’Well naturally, but I’m glad you told me. I have to say I did wonder. You and
Harry seemed to be such good friends. Does anyone else know you’re queer?’

  ‘No,’ Robert said quickly and again regretted it.

  The sly look returned. ‘Don’t you fret. Your secret’s safe with me.’

  But was it? He asked himself as finally they made their way to the parked automobile. Would she find it irresistible to expose the secret he had kept all these years?

  On the drive back, Judith asked if she could take the wheel and he refused.

  ‘I can’t have you knocking up my prized possession.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Robert. I drive Charlie’s motor all over New York. It’s a piece of cake on this little road.’

  He longed to be back in Giverny, away from her wheedling voice. She really believed she should have anything she wanted. ‘I said no.’

  Judith paused, then she said, ‘You shouldn’t be so nasty to me, Robert, you know.’

  He was startled by the menace in her voice. With a sigh, he drew up by the side of the road, got out and they exchanged seats. She was a confident, able driver and for a while he settled back, even glanced out of the window. All of sudden, Judith accelerated and they shot forward, rushing along the road.

  ‘Careful,’ he cried out. ‘Careful, Judith.’

  ‘I am being careful,’ she shouted back. ‘I’m used to speed.’

  ‘Slow down, do you hear what I say? Slow down.’

  ‘Why should I?’ she crowed.

  ‘Because we’re coming to several bends in the road and it’s dangerous. Do you want to kill us both?’

  At that she obeyed.

  ‘I’ll drive from now on.’

  ‘Okay, okay.’ With a flourish, she brought the car to a halt but remained for a moment sitting there, giving him a scornful smile. ‘My, my, how you panic. What is it you’re afraid of, Robert? Living?’

  The remark was so perceptive, he was taken aback. This young woman had got his number, all right. As he took the wheel and they covered the remaining miles to Giverny, he began to wonder what he would say when Harry asked how the day had gone.

  He longed to be alone, to sit on the terrace, smoke a cigarette and absorb their conversation, the fact that he had told her he was queer. As they arrived in Giverny, Judith slid out of the car and paused,