by Albert Cohen
'No, dear. What did it say?'
'I absolutely must tell you all about it, a lervely story. Well now, she's a littel girl, just twelve years old, and her father's a plain, honest mason, and yet she has such sensitivity of feeling, as you'll see. Now when the King of Greece and his gracious Queen landed in Geneva in their superb aeroplane, there standing in the front row of the important dignitaries who had turned out to give them a right royal welcome was littel Laurette wearing a simple dress and holding a bouquet of roses in her hand! Now I'll tell you how it came about that she was given such a high honour. Littel Laurette, who of course positively dotes on the young Queen of Greece, was so happy when she heard that a young prince had been born who would continue the dynasty, she was so overjoyed that she plucked up the courage to write to Her Majesty saying ever so sweetly how happy she was and how much she admired her! Whereupon Her Majesty promised littel Laurette that she would see her for sure when she came to Switzerland! And that's how littel Laurette had the honour of giving flowers to a queen! Isn't that quite lervely? That littel girl might be from a humble home but she has a fine soul! And she'll grow up to be a fine person too! And what a memory for her to treasure for the rest of her life, to have been kissed by a queen!'
After this the two ladies aired their views on the romance between Edward VIII and Mrs Simpson. It was odious, a commoner setting her cap at the throne! exclaimed Madame Deume. She should know her place and stay in it! If a princess became a queen, that was only right and proper, she was of blood royal, it was the prerogative of rank, but for a person of the middle class to . . . er . . . to, well, the barefaced nerve! And what was one supposed to think of a king who let himself be trapped? The poor Queen Mother must have really been through the mill, and she so very proper, such a noble heart! Oh the tears she must have shed in secret! And what of poor Princess Eulalie with her democratic principles who had married a commoner? She wouldn't be happy for long, oh no, it was quite unthinkable! A princess could not possibly be happy with someone who was not of royal blood! An interior decorator too, it was appalling! Someone who had mixed with artists and other such bohemian riff-raff! Really, what on earth was the matter with all these princesses to make them so keen to marry commoners? Couldn't they see that their behaviour was a betrayal of dynasty, and a betrayal of the people too, which was to say of all the subjects in the realm? Their duty was to keep their place, stay in the rank where God had set them! Really, she preferred not to think about these ill-advised marriages, it was too painful. And so, turning to a more comforting topic, she asked dear Emmeline if she had happened to see the article about the wonderful gesture made by a princess who was next in line to a throne?
'You didn't? Then I'll have to tell you all about it, because it's too too sweet. Well now, Princess Mathilda, she's the one who's next in line to the throne, was in the aeroplane that was taking her to the United States, or was it Canada, I can't remember which, anyhow she was flying off on a state visit. As was only right and proper, a special cabin had been fitted out for her, no expense spared, it had a real bed, it was a proper bedroom in fact, with adjoining private bathroom of course. Well, anyhow, all of a sudden she comes out of her de-luxe cabin, calls to the air-hostess who of course had been assigned to wait exclusively on Her Royal Highness, and says to her: "Would you like me to show you my gowns and my jewels?" Naturally the air-hostess said yes and stepped ever so shyly into the de-luxe cabin, crimson with excitement and delight! So Her Royal Highness showed her all her evening gowns embroidered with precious stones, her ropes of pearls, her diamond necklaces, and her magnificent emerald diadem which of course has been in the royal family for generations, showed her the whole lot, simply, without affectation, woman to woman. By the finish, apparently, the air-hostess was positively sobbing with gratitude. I must say that as I read the article I had tears in my eyes myself. I think it's so beautiful! A royal princess showing all her marvellous things to that poor girl, not much better than a maid really, who'd never seen anything like it, but she'll always be able to say that for once in her life, if only for just a few moments, she knew the joy of being surrounded by all the trappings of high society, taste and wealth! Oh, it's wonderful! Only a person who is a princess and next in line to a throne could ever imagine doing anything so spiritually beautiful! Now that truly is what loving your neighbour means!'
She would have continued with her eulogy of princessly souls and hearts next in line to thrones had not Monsieur Deume appeared, panting with the effort of lugging heavy suitcases down the stairs, and announced that the taxi had arrived.
CHAPTER 32
Entering her room after doing up his new dinner-jacket, he found her standing in front of her long swing-mirror looking ravishing in her evening gown. He gave a jokey bow.
'I prostrate myself at your feet, noble lady. Right then, everything's all in order. My bags have been booked on to the twelve fifty. Don't you think it was clever of me to go down to the station? Now I can be easy in my mind. I wouldn't have fancied checking them in at the last moment. The man in the luggage office tried to make difficulties, said I was too early and so on. I said League of Nations, and that shut him up. They didn't open anything in customs, I just showed them my official identity card: stopped them dead in their tracks. Oh, I forgot to tell you. I've insured my luggage. I think I did right. After all, two francs per thousand isn't exactly going to break the bank. Actually, it came to fifteen francs all told, but now I can be easy in my mind. I hung on to the taxi, of course, it's waiting downstairs, I told the driver we'd be off directly. Oddly enough, it's the same driver who came for Mummy and Dada. It's a fact. Just as I was coming out of the station they were getting out of their taxi, which I of course commandeered, very fortunate really, because there weren't any others about, and the same porter who had carried my luggage took theirs too! Terrific coincidence, really! But look here, darling, I'm not too happy that after tonight you'll be here in the house all by yourself for months. There'll be nobody except for the daily woman, and she'll only be coming in mornings. What worries me most, though, is the night-time. Darling, tell me you'll take good care to see that the shutters are properly secured at night, you really will, won't you? And bolt the front door as well as locking it? Say you really promise!'
'Yes, I promise.' (Really, she murmured to herself.)
'I say, it's twenty-five to eight already! Still, we're not far behind schedule really. Shall we go? Better to be early than late. If we are a bit early we can always hang about in the lobby for a few minutes. Oh, you won't forget your new cigarette-case, will you? It's jolly nice, isn't it? Solid gold, you know, the best they had in the shop. Happy with it?'
'Yes, very happy, thanks,' she said, arranging a lock of hair over her forehead.
'Shall we go down, then?'
'Yes, just a moment,' she said, still staring at herself in the mirror.
'You are quite perfect,' he said, in the hope of cutting this last-minute inspection short. 'To my mind, the only thing that wouldn't come amiss would be a little wipe of lipstick.'
'Don't like lipstick,' she said without turning round. 'I never use it.'
'But couldn't you just this once, darling? I mean, we are going out. Just a touch?'
'Anyway, I haven't got any.'
'I thought of that, darling. I bought you a selection so you could choose the one you liked best. Here.'
'No thank you. This dress is too tight on the hips.'
'Nonsense, darling.'
'Besides, it's a ball-gown. It's not right for a dinner party.'
'That doesn't matter, it looks really nice. You've never worn it before. Such a shame, it suits you to a T.'
'It makes me feel uncomfortable.'
'In what way?'
'The neck's too low. It's indecent.'
'Absolute rot, take it from me, your neckline is no lower than the ones they have on other low-necked dresses, it's very, er, dressy, that's all.'
'Very well, I'll keep it on and look
indecent, since that is your command.'
'I think you look terrific in that dress,' he said, to jolly her along.
She did not hear, for she was busy running through the silent routine of feminine artifice in her mirror, taking a few steps back, a few steps forward, pointlessly smoothing her smooth hips with her hands, sticking out one shoe, hitching up the hem of her skirt to see, with eyebrows knit and lips pursed, if it might have been an idea, if it might have been better to have had it not quite so long, the silent, frowning answer being all things considered no, the length was exactly right the way it was. He noticed that her legs were bare, but thought it wisest to say nothing about this. Top of the agenda was not to get to the Ritz late. Anyway, her legs were so smooth that his boss wouldn't notice. In any case, she looked stunning in that dress and, the main thing, was ready to leave. A new turn of phrase came into his mind, and he made immediate use of it.
'You look as pretty as a princess, you know.'
'My breasts are half bare,' she said, still with her back to him but looking directly at her husband in the mirror. 'Only the nipples are hidden. Doesn't that bother you?'
'But darling, they're not half bare. It's more like a third.'
'If I lean forward, it's half.'
'Then don't lean forward. Anyway, plunging necklines are considered perfectly suitable for evening wear.'
'And would you mind if it was considered perfectly suitable to show the whole lot?' she asked, and in the mirror she gave him another direct, masculine look.
'What on earth are you getting at, for goodness sake?'
'The truth. Do you want me to make them pop out when I meet this man?'
'Ariane!' he exclaimed, appalled. 'Why are you saying such horrible things?'
'Very well, I'll only show him the top half,' she said coolly. 'The bit that's suitable and seemly.'
There was a silence and he looked at the carpet. Why did she go on looking, staring, glaring at him like this? For God's sake, at the smartest balls the most fashionable women wore low necklines. So what? The best plan would be to change the subject, especially since it was now seven forty-two.
'Shall we go, darling? We've just enough time.'
'I'll go, and I'll bring my half-moons with me.'
'Look, you will be nice to him?' he asked, after forcing a little cough.
'What am I supposed to do for him?'
'Just be a little bit nice, that's all, join in the conversation, be pleasant.'
'It's no good, I've made up my mind. I shan't be coming,' she said with a smile to her mirror.
She turned round quickly. Her dress flared. He stared at her open-mouthed and he felt the flesh on his cheek crawl. Two thousand francs, two thousand francs for the cigarette-case, and this was the thanks he got!
'But why, in hell's name? Why?'
'Because I don't feel like being just a little bit nice.'
'Darling, I beg you! Look, don't spoil this dinner party for me! What sort of fool will I look like if I turn up by myself? Darling, my whole career is on the line here! It's now fourteen minutes to eight, you can't do this to me at the last minute! For heaven's sake, have pity! See some sense!'
She looked at him, at his wispy beard, at the dinner-jacket which fitted too well, as he begged and pleaded with a hint of a sob, probably manufactured, in his voice, wringing his hands, his lower lip pendulous and trembling, just like a baby about to burst into tears.
'I won't go,' she repeated, and with the same twirling flare of her dress she turned back to her mirror. 'Come along, look sharp, otherwise you'll be late and he'll tell you off. Come on, go and make some more personal contacts, get yourself another pat on the back, a nice hefty pat, that's how you like them isn't it, a real personal contact! Go on, tell him you're stuck at the top of your grade! Give him your doe-eyed look!'
'You're horrible, absolutely horrible!' he shouted, and he saw her watching him in the mirror, eyes gleaming with savage glee. 'Damn you!' he shouted and left, slamming the door behind him.
She smiled at her reflection and stepped back so that she could see herself full-length. The neck of her dress was so daringly low that waggling her shoulders to the right and then to the left was enough to make her breasts spill out, one after the other. Through half-closed eyes she examined them: they were resolute and primed. 'In doe-eyed ecstasy,' she murmured.
CHAPTER 33
'It's nice like this stretched out on the floor no cushion under my head it relaxes me better than bed, can't really imagine dying, funny me being so fond of lying on the floor staring up at the ceiling with my mouth open and then letting my crazy thoughts wander well pretending to, I love it, just as the rising tide seeps into the dry crumbly sand and then recedes leaving it grey and heavy and damp, so a tide of tears rises inside me and floods into my eyes and makes them all red and then the tide recedes sinks down inside me leaving my heart as heavy as the wet sand, that's not bad I must write it down, I think it would be really smart to have a white crêpe evening dress with cape effect framing a deep neckline and the hem arranged in such a way that the whole thing swings and sways with me as I walk, delicious sleeping together with our arms around each other, I'll never stop loving my Varvara if you've loved someone you'll go on loving them forever semel semper, oh yes clever-clogs I know a bit of Latin I doubt if you can say as much you probably know Arabic and Turkish, I really let him have it, he begged and begged the poor boy was almost in tears I was quite beastly all the things I said the pat on the back the personal contacts, I can't very well let him go away for three months remembering me sneering at him, I'll have to put it right, so best go to this Ritz thing since he so set his heart on it he'll be so pleased to see me when I get there I'll say my migraine's better I'll be nice to him I'll sit down beside him, I'll be polite to the man for Adrien's sake darling do you really promise terrific coincidence really, according to old Ventradour God is an ever-present help to her in all things so why doesn't He send her a better class of maid why does He go on bombarding her with cheeky little chits actually she thanks God for the nice things He does for her and is too polite to mention any of the unpleasant things from which He fails to preserve her in His capricious unfathomable ways, instead of saying seeing that Antoinette always says seeing as how for which I would gladly throttle her, yes with that foul man I'll be polite on account of Adrien his career and the rest of it, it will be a sacrifice a chance to redeem myself, polite but frosty, the brute will understand that Adrien was my only reason for coming, I'll go with him to the station, I'll say thank you for the gold cigarette-case it's far too heavy but naturally not a word on that score kiss him several times on the platform just before he gets on to the train, stay on the platform until the train starts moving, smile and wave my hand, in short do the necessary so that he goes away bearing fond memories, right then go and have a bath but I'm so comfy like this on the floor not dressed talking to myself I love talking to myself, in any case I larrupped horsewhipped him all over his bare back it bleeds it raises welts good thing whack I didn't say anything about the brute otherwise awful wedded husband would have been forced to challenge brute to duel result poor Didi dead, that wouldn't have been fair at all, turn up with just a dab of powder and nothing else, how can they bear to put red varnish on their nails it's disgusting, say headache's better but be frosty to the man, what a moron dressing up in that stupid disguise, hey don't put your legs in the air like that, it's not ladylike, poor sweet he'd have been devastated if he'd had to go off on his travels without seeing his wifey again the younger Madame Deume, Madame Deume junior, I don't even know my registers, that's what they say for it in Switzerland, I talk Swiss sometimes, in France they say multiplication tables which is better, I know the easy ones like twice three and three times four, I have these crazy urges to say rude words it's because I was brought up properly, the ones I don't know are the horrible ones seven eights and nine sevens, with them I have to do adding up, when I get there dinner will be over, because I refuse to be th
e guest of Ali Rum Baba out of the question, it's enough that I should turn up for the sake, of my awful wedded to make amends, I'm glad I nearly knocked his eye out, old Mother Deume trying to make an impression at the Kanakises' dinner party but unable to think of anything to say to the said Kanakises who were so snooty and clubby and the literary conversation was entirely over her head too, so bending over her plate she pecked away with a smile on her face smiling with a knowing look on her face a look that implied she was thinking of something highly amusing, a knowing delicate little smile suggesting the height of sophistication, the smile of a countess lost in her own thoughts which were so fascinating so perky-bright that she had no time for other people's chatter, suggesting the height of self-sufficiency, but in reality utterly humiliated and suffering torments at the thought of not being able to contribute to the lively conversation which was in fact quite quite inane, her breasts must be awful can't stop thinking about them, always go for soft materials plain colours not patterns, stick to black anthracite grey white avoid brown and beige at all costs, come along have a quick bath then get ready look my best so that he, to please him, so that he carries away a pleasant memory of me on his train, poor boy he deserves it, quick your bath, the thoroughbred mares beloved of the winds in remotest Scythia are not more sad or more untamed than you on evenings when northerly breezes die away, I love those words, yes leave him with a pleasant memory, a bath with sweet-smelling bath salts, the white silk dress, do hair carefully, and then ring for taxi, Aix-en-Provence remember the hot-water springs with mossy green beards, the caryatids, the carved oak doors, the little grinning figures on the roofs at the ends of the fluted bronze gutterings, me and Éliane when we were little we dug a hole in Tantlérie's garden, a secret hidey-hole, we wrote down the instructions showing its location in a Bible, so many centimetres longitude north of the japonica, in it we put bits of glass chocolate paper an old key photos of both of us some coins a peacock feather what we called 'sea-biscuits' in case of famine a chocolate bear a curtain ring we said was a wedding ring for when I grew up, and when we'd filled the hole in we quarrelled and I hit Éliane and then we made up we kissed and made up and we used the blood from her nose to write a tragic letter about the sinking of the three-masted schooner The Shark, we collected the drips from her nose in a spoon then we dipped a pen in it and took turns to write, I wrote I'll dig up the buried treasure on our desert island the day I get married and I'll put the ring on my loving husband's finger, and then we wrote resolutions, we wrote the words backwards so that they were secret, resolutions about going in for spiritual uplift, that was an expression we knew because Tantlérie used it a lot, and afterwards we reopened the hidey-hole to put the tragic letter in, I'm bored, once upon a time in Arabia there was once really it's true there was a great big huge elephant and it's quite true a tiny little midget ant, and Nastrine the Ant said hello great big huge elephant and the elephant who had a short tail and big ears William I think he was called and the elephant said O tiny little weary midget climb up on my back I won't get tired honest and I'll carry you home and Nastrine said oh thank you nice great big huge elephant you are very kind you know and then the ant said oh I haven't a clue what the ant said down with Jews perhaps oh the whip lashing and the back flinching, the head sinking into shoulders and the nails sinking into palms, the blood dripping thickly and the hate feeding on itself which might be love and the foot that loses its footing and the endless falling falling whatever am I saying now for that bath don't go in a hat wear the white dress white goddess sort of yes it's long and full and long and full is altogether much more elegant than tight and narrow also much more stylish neckline not too low quite severe really except for the bare arms of course my thrilling golden arms and my very long white gloves setting off the gold of my arms delicious white satin slippers in a word tasteful and perfect shan't wear tight and narrow ever again only long and full in satin or crêpe oh the poor boy will be so pleased to see me again I was utterly bitchy to him bitchy bitchy very witchy but stay by his side until his train goes blow him kisses with my hand as the train starts good-evening how are you I just wanted to say hello I haven't got much time I've got to join my husband at a do given by some horrible man from the L of N come come you're not being very sensible.'