Her Lover (Belle de Seigneur)

by Albert Cohen

  'Of the Kingdom of Gweece,' said that lover of detail Monsieur Deume, who proceeded to persuade the wings of his moustache to swell the ranks of his goatee.

  'It's extremely fortunate they were able to come tomorrow at such short notice, and accept what must have seemed a rather point-blank invitation, don't you think?'

  'It's worked out quite splendidly, Madame.'

  'But you really should have seen how perfectly at his ease Didi was when he was speaking to Madame Kanakis, he called her "dear lady", I mean the manner, all the graces of a man of the world. And I must say it's a load off my mind, my dinner is saved, it would have grieved me if we'd had to eat up all that expensive food ourselves, especially the caviare. And we'll be able to use the printed menus too. When he'd done that, Adrien also phoned the Rassets but, aha!, most mysterious, he got no answer! He rang me just now from the Palais, because he tells his Mummy everything, he does, he rang to say he'd tried to phone the Rassets several times but kept getting no reply, I think they must be away, probably off on their travels, it's a pity, Madame Rasset is the daughter of the Vice-President of the Red Cross.'

  'International Committee of the Wed Cwoss,' corrected Monsieur Deume.

  'Oh, that's a real shame,' said Ariane.

  'Especially since it would have been a right royal occasion, seeing as how we have rather a lot of everything. We'll just have to keep plying the Kanakises with caviare, that's all. It doesn't keep.'

  'That's a good idea,' said Ariane.

  'From one point of view, it's a pity, caviare is so expensive. But it's better than throwing it away, because at least we'll be giving someone pleasure, don't you agree, Ariane?'

  'I do indeed, you're quite right. Isn't there anything else I can do for you, Madame?'

  'Well you could get me a pound of tea, English broken-leaf, nine francs twenty-five, oh and a pound of coffee, Colombian.'

  'It's got more body than Bwazilian,' said Monsieur Deume.

  'Only too delighted,' said Ariane.

  'Thank you very much, Ariane,' said Madame Deume, who, on an impulse, reached out and took both her wondrously transmogrified daughter-in-law's hands in hers. She gazed at her with a strongly spiritual expression on her face. 'You can also get me a pound of Palmina margarine. It's a lot cheaper than butter for cooking.'

  When Ariane enquired if she was absolutely sure there wasn't anything else she could do for her, Madame Deume asked her, if it wasn't too much of a bother, to call at lost property and hand in a bunch of safety-pins which she'd found on a tram the day before yesterday, there must be a couple of dozen all told, brand new, probably been dropped by some unfortunate working-class woman, and the thought of it was preying on her mind. Ariane said it was no bother at all, because as it happened she was going to the Place du Bourg-de-Four in any case to ask about a cookery class she was thinking of putting her name down for. Madame Deume made a mental note and gave an angelic smile.

  'If you're going in that direction, perhaps you'd be very kind and call on Madame Replat who is someone I met at the ladies' sewing-guild, as it happens she lives at number six, Place du Bourg-de-Four, it won't take you much out of your way, and tell her I told her a lie, I'm sorry to say, though not on purpose of course, but I feel very bad about it, and I'd rather get it off my chest, perhaps it's part of the reason why I haven't been sleeping well. I told her that Saint-Jean d'Aulph was nine hundred and forty metres above sea level. And when I went to check last night I was a hundred metres out! Saint-Jean d'Aulph is only eight hundred and forty metres above sea level! Would you mind telling her that?'

  'Not at all.'

  Thank you, my dear, thank you very much. You see, I cannot live with a lie. For instance, when I write to friends I could never say "best wishes from Hippolyte" without asking him first! And if he was out I wouldn't dream of sending his regards, not even if I was writing to his oldest friends! Honesty is the best policy is what I say, in littel things as well as in big things. Thank you once again, dear,' smiled Madame Deume, and the lenses in her spectacles glinted with love.

  When her daughter-in-law had gone, she looked at her husband, who looked back at her with an expression of neutrality, neither for nor against, on his face. Inwardly he was aquiver with delight, so proud was he of Ariane, the darling girl. But you never knew, and prudence was the best policy.

  'What do you reckon?' she asked.

  'Well, I weckon

  'Let's hope it lasts. To my mind she's been thinking about religion. You'll have noticed that she got that recipe for her fruit cake out of some religious magazine, I wonder which, but anyway it's a good sign. Do you remember she asked me if she could have the small room downstairs and turn it into a sitting-room where she could put her piano and so on? I said no, because that room is a godsend to me for keeping all sorts of bits and pieces in. But no matter, she can have it. I'll tell her at lunching that it's hers. Oh, it'll be a hardship for me, a great trial, but I do believe that once it's done I shan't regret the sacrifice.'

  CHAPTER 24

  Feeling remiss for not yet having said his morning prayers, Uncle Saltiel hurriedly washed his hands, sang the three praises, and then, draping the ceremonial shawl over his head, intoned the prescribed verses of Psalm thirty-six. He was about to put on the phylacteries when the door suddenly burst open to reveal, skimming on his crampons, Naileater.

  'Comrade and cousin,' quoth he, 'behold I am come into your august presence to speak, in confidence, plain words of good sense intended for your ears only. Here beginneth the nub. Loyal friend and companion of my vicissitudes, how long shall the present torment last?'

  'What torment?' asked Saltiel calmly, and he proceeded to fold his prayer-shawl.

  'Give ear to the utterance of my tongue and you shall be enlightened. I summarize: travelling from London by aerial conveyance, we made land here in Geneva as dawn's rosy fingers reached out on the thirty-first day of May, and today is Tuesday the fifth of June. Am I correct? Do you hold another view? Then the motion is carried. Therefore have we been five days in Geneva and I have yet to set eyes upon your lord and nephew! But you, with vested egotism, have met with him every day and yet you have not made me privy to the secret of your conversation, doubtless finding in this procedure some paltry pleasure which flatters your sense of superiority. All you deigned to do was to come with mysterious intent last night and wake me, thus disturbing my innocent sleep, with the aim of informing me with satanic glee that you had just spent several delightful hours in the company of the aforementioned lord, and of announcing in an aside, the brevity of which cut me to the quick, that he is to call on us this morning at ten, here in our auberge, a word of German origin. Eschewing all animosity, forgiving those who trespass against me, and strangling in my bosom the lion of indignation and the hyena of envy, I made shift to smile with blameless heart and pure, filled to the brim with the disinterested joy of at last seeing your nephew who, after all, is also linked to me by the bond of blood. With my heart ablaze with impatience, I have awaited his coming since the break of day.'

  'Why since the break of day if he said ten o'clock?'

  'Because I have a temperament of fire! And now it is ten thirty and I have not seen as much as this nephew's little finger! And so the days pass, dismal and unproductive! It cannot go on! I cannot go on, kicking my heels like this in my Slough of Despond! Since I have been in Geneva's fair city, what have I accomplished that is sufficiently grandiose and pungent to warrant transmission to future generations? Nothing, my friend, nothing, except for one prettily handwritten visiting-card left at the home of the unmannerly Vice-Chancellor of the University of Geneva, a man of no refinement, who did not even return a word of thanks! To put it in a nutshell, I languish, my life is trickling away in this city of interminable waiting where stupid gulls shriek their spite! For five days, my friend, I have been leading a life which has no meaning, no poetry, no noble aspiration! I direct my steps through a Slough of Despond, I peer through shop windows, I eat and I sleep!
In short, I lead a purely animal existence, devoid of creativity, repercussions, adventure, bereft of unexpected advantages, stripped bare of even one illustrious action! And so, when evening falls, having nothing to do or achieve, pale-cheeked and hollow-eyed, I take myself off to my bed at a dismally early hour, at dusk, when night begins to descend, trailing its wake of widow's weeds! Now what sort of life is that, I ask you? I will say it bluntly: your nephew has neglected us, and it sets my fingertips atingle. He gave a promise, he has not kept that promise and I judge him severely! He is deficient in family feeling: that is my verdict! How do you say?'

  'What impudence! And who are you to judge him? Where are your diplomas? What high office do you hold?'

  'Sometime Vice-Chancellor!'

  'And foot doctor! Can you not understand that he has doubtless been faced with some last-minute world-shattering issue this morning? Deficient in family feeling, my foot and my elbow! And what of the three hundred gold napoleons of inconceivable weight which he forced on me last night, to be divided equally between the five of us, as I informed you the moment I returned to our hotel? And of course you insisted on having your share, sixty napoleons, then and there, did you not, O grasping man, O devouring lion!'

  'It was done in all innocence. I merely wished to slide them under my pillow and fill my ears with their sensuous tinkling as I slept.'

  'Deficient in family feeling, eh? And the sixty napoleons? The coinage is current in Switzerland.'

  'Current coinage and also legal tender, I agree. But what good to me are napoleons and their gladness if I lack the joy of creating, acting and being admired? What I need is a life of excitement filled with argument and schemes! I need to live a little before I die! Be reasonable, Saltiel, and try to understand my anguish. We are in Geneva, city of grand receptions, and I am invited to none of them! Tell me, is it your nephew's intention to keep me in a gilded cage and drive me to pernicious anaemia? I can stand it no longer, I am buffeted by clouds of inertia and my life of solitude is turning me into a skein of dried seaweed.'

  'And what conclusion, O man of words, do you draw therefrom?'

  'I conclude that we are idiots, myself excepted. And that since your nephew has not come to us, we should go to him, in his castle of the nations!'

  'No. He would be most aggrieved were we to arrive unannounced. I shall have parlance with him via the electrical circuit and shall remind him that we are waiting.'

  'But if he comes here, where's the pleasure?' groaned Naileater, revealing his true thoughts. 'Surrounded by ministers and ambassadors, that's how we should see him, our hearts swelling with pride, because our hearts thirst for ministers and ambassadors, that is, for important persons! They cry out for animated conversation with the aforementioned eminences! Come now, Saltiel, let us live dangerously! Let us go forth and pay him a visit in his enchanted palace of influence! Let boldness be our friend! Let us set a fait accompli before him! Was not my grandfather cousin to his grandfather? Moreover, dear friend, there are rich employments for the asking in this League of Nations, golden opportunities! Who knows what Fate might have in store for us if we repair thither today? Perhaps I might strike up a friendship with Lord Balfour! I have read in this city's public print that the Count of Paris, scion of the forty kings who created France in twenty centuries, is currently in residence in Geneva! He may at this very moment be at the castle of nations and I would like to meet him and earn his good opinion with a few well-chosen royalist remarks, for I am ever mindful to take all requisite precautions just in case the monarchy of France be one day restored! Believe me, Saltiel, your nephew would be delighted to see us arrive unannounced and his tongue would explode with joy, you have my word on it! Let us sally forth, Saltiel, come, feast your eyes on your nephew, observe him enthroned in his all-importance, that your chest may swell and mine too!'

  He spoke on, spoke at length, and in the end poor Saltiel allowed himself to be persuaded, because he was an old, enfeebled man in the seventy-fifth year of his age and because he loved his nephew. And so he got up on trembling legs and immediately a beaming Naileater flung open the door and bawled to Solomon and Michael who had been loitering in the corridor awaiting the outcome of the negotiations.

  'Time, gentlemen, to show a ceremonial leg!' he bellowed. 'Order of the day: we are to pay a call on His Excellency! Solemn accoutrements and evening dress shall be worn! Let us do honour to our beloved island and let us by our appearance dazzle all those Gentiles, like small suns! To this end, my dears, spend freely of the napoleons which our uncle has in his keeping for you from the liberal hands of Solal the Munificent! He who is not awesome in his habiliments shall not be permitted to gaze upon ministers and ambassadors! I have spoken! For my part, armed with my sixty pocket napoleons, and before the best shops shut their expensive doors, I shall hie me to town, there to procure new apparel, tasteful accessories and ditto fripperies, disbursing freely, sparing no expense, counting not, gladly paying up whatever the price, the sky being the limit! Go forth, apples of my eye, and do likewise!'

  At two o'clock that same afternoon, Naileater stood hand on hip admiring himself in the small mirror in his hotel room. New frock-coat with silky lapels. Starched shirt. A spotted lavallière adding a touch of dash. Panama hat, given the heat. Sand-shoes, for he had tender toes. Tennis-racket and golf club in the manner of English diplomats. Gardenia in his buttonhole. Intellectual pince-nez solemnized by a black ribbon on which his long teeth chewed with gay abandon. And to complete the outfit, the crowning surprise, kept in reserve in the pocket of his coat to be produced at the right moment, which was immediately before he was presented to Lord Solal. Yes, prudence required that good Saltiel, who was inclined to be pernickety, be confronted by a fait accompli.

  Enter, moments later, Mattathias and Michael. The latter had opted to retain his uniform of synagogue usher: waistcoat gilded with small buttons and braid, fluted Greek kilt, Turkish slippers with turned-up toes and red pompoms, and tucked into the wide belt the damascened butts of a pair of antic pistols. Naileater nodded approvingly. Excellent, Michael would pass muster as his aide-de-camp! On the other hand, Mattathias had done no more than remove the piping from his undertaker's suit (which he had acquired in Cephalonia from one of his debtors who had been the beneficiary of the will of a relative who had worked for an undertaker) and had furthermore stuck on his head a Havana hat which he had found on the London—Geneva flight. Rather lacklustre was Mattathias, thought Naileater, but it was no bad thing, the contrast would make him to shine the more brightly. The two cousins were amazed by the jet-black glint of his forked beard, so he explained that not having been able to put his hand on his brilliantine, he had instead used a spot of boot polish, which was every bit as good.

  Meanwhile, Solomon put in an appearance, blushing in the outfit which he had just bought from a shop called 'The Prodigal Son'. Not having found anything small enough for his size, he had decided on the first-communion suit which an assistant, who was either very astute or a wag, had warmly advised. He was particularly proud of the white armband with the silk fringe of whose religious significance, like the other three Valiants, he was sublimely ignorant. He also took inordinate pride from the little Eton jacket, which had no tails and stopped short at his waist, and which Naileater immediately dubbed a 'bum-freezer'.

  Finally Saltiel appeared, and Naileater was delighted to observe that he had kept to his nut-brown frock-coat. Perfect. He would shine brightest, he would appear superior, Western: everyone would assume that he was the leader of the delegation. Saltiel inspected the cousins with a Napoleonic eye in which Michael alone found favour.

  'Solomon, take off that armband, it's meaningless. Mattathias, don't wear a hat at all if that's the best you can do. And you, Naileater, why the fancy dress? The frock-coat is fine, you can keep that. But get rid of the rest of the abominations. Otherwise I shall take steps and you won't be allowed in.'

  His tone was such that Naileater had no choice but to obey. The tennis-r
acket, the golf club, the Panama and the sand-shoes were exchanged, respectively, for a morocco briefcase, a walking-stick with a gold handle, a grey topper and patent-leather pumps, and these accessories he was obliged to rush out and purchase without further ado, Saltiel being adamant. But in the matter of the lavallière, the gardenia and the pince-nez, Naileater stood firm, spoke bitterly of despotism, and complained that the intention was to impugn his honour. For the sake of peace, Saltiel gave in.

  'Full steam ahead for the palace of delights and seat of greatness!' cried Naileater.

  The cab drew up outside the front door of the Palais des Nations. Naileater got out first. Casually tossing a gold louis to the driver and showing the way to the rest of the Valiants, he strode into the entrance hall, empty now in early afternoon, and headed immediately for the lavatory. To the stupefaction of his cousins, he emerged moments later with the sash (First Class) of the Legion of Honour slung diagonally across his chest. To silence possible protests, he immediately set about neutralizing Saltiel.

  'Behold! A fait accompli! No good losing your temper, it's too late now! You can't make a scene here, so you can't spoil my royal little game! Anyhow, my decoration is not only thoroughly deserved but is actually authentic, for it was bought in Paris, and a pretty penny it cost too, from a specialist outfitter's whither I secretly repaired before we left for Marseilles. So hold your peace, gentlemen, and put your best foot forward. Let he who is with me follow where I lead! Fall in behind the sash, red, First Class!'

  On the first floor, Saulnier shot to his feet, dazzled by the sheer calibre of the sash, though he was well used to the strange fauna of exotic delegations. A head of state, President of some small South American republic, he thought, slightly taken aback however by the blue lavallière with white dots and the peculiar garb worn by members of the retinue. But the sash and the fear that he might put his foot in it outweighed all other considerations. So he forced a chilly smile and waited.