Her Lover (Belle de Seigneur)

by Albert Cohen

  CHAPTER 57

  In the wondrously lurching taxi which bore her along, she reread the telegram, lingered over the best parts, smiled at them, made approving noises in a voice that was now exalted, now sublime. 'Yes, my love,' she told the telegram, and she bit her hand to stifle the cries of joy which clamoured for release. Then she began again and read it over with all her soul, scarcely looking at it so well did she know what it said. She held it away from her to see it better, she brought it close, breathed it in, pressed it to her cheek, her eyes glazed with ecstasy, and she crooned senseless words to herself, lordy and phew and tra-la-la, and pip-pip and oompah and diddle-de-dum.

  When the taxi stopped outside the post office, she gave the driver a hundred-franc note, fled before he had a chance to thank her, and went up the steps three at a time. Inside the main hall, she stopped and turned round several times on the spot. Which window dealt with telegrams? She located it and made a dash for it. One of her stockings had parted from her suspender and hung down her leg in creases.

  Standing before a sheaf of blank forms, she opened her handbag. One thousand three hundred francs. Should be enough. She unscrewed the top of her pen, smiled at a small dog which looked cross and bored, rumpled her hair to put herself in the mood, and, already into her stride, began writing:

  'Solal c/o Thomas Cook, Place de la Madeleine, Paris

  'Thank you so much exclamation marks my love I have been so unhappy but I won't have any word of reproach from me to you since I know now that I'll be seeing you soon stop I accept all I've had to go through I accept that you not due back till 25th I accept that you didn't tell me what prevented you returning on 9th as promised I accept that you didn't inform me of what you are doing and where you're going since you told me that you'll only be in Paris till this evening I suppose job makes all these secrets necessary stop I only ask one thing of you which is take train since too many accidents by aeroplane wire what time train arrives Geneva 25 th and what time you will come by after all you should drop by the minute you get to Geneva even before going to Ritz but you will probably want to shave and make yourself handsome which is ludicrous you always look handsome too handsome stop I withdraw the too stop I'd like you to be at my house at 9 oh oh oh stop those ohs are for happiness stop I was so miserable between 9 Aug evening and 14 Aug morning stop the first night I phoned Ritz every hour and every time they said you weren't back stop the next days all that awful waiting for postman and awful phonecalls to Ritz and L. of N. stop just now in taxi blissfully sang stupid songs like on radio you know there's never been a love like ours stop thank you for not being able to live without me but in your telegram there is a very before beautiful but not before elegant should I conclude you do not think I'm really elegant stop during all that time when I didn't know what was happening and whether or not you had left me I couldn't bear to reread your letters but soon when I get home I'll spread your letters all over my bed and read them again lying down with nothing on because it's very hot stop when you come you shall do what you like with me I'm embarrassed because the telegram clerk will read this but no matter I won't look at him when he's counting the words stop please will you look at the polestar every night at 9 exactly for three minutes and I'll look at it too for three minutes at 9 that way our eyes will meet way up there and we'll be together stop the polestar only if there are no clouds of course stop if too cloudy try next night same time same place stop but remember that's 9 Swiss time so if in a country where time different look at polestar at time corresponding to 9 o'clock Switzerland stop my darling boy I'm afraid all of a sudden you might not know where it is in the sky stop the polestar is situated in Ursa Minor which is like a kite and the polestar is right at the end of the tail stop you can also locate it via Ursa Major also known as the Wagon which is close to Ursa Minor stop the polestar is on the continuation of a line that goes through the two stars which represent the back wheels of Wagon stop sorry for telling you all this but I've noticed you don't always know much about nature and I don't want to miss our nightly communing stop darling I beseech you if you can't find the polestar by yourself please do think of getting someone who does know to help you stop if you go to America in the next few days you'll find the polestar there too I found out I phoned the Observatory before leaving stop sometimes I realize it's quite true that part of me must be backward I've still got a fontanelle like babies do stop please don't smoke too much not more than twenty a day and if it's cold at night don't go out without a coat stop sorry for being so interfering stop I've never worn a wedding ring but I'm going to buy one and I'll put it on when I'm by myself and be your wife before God stop cannot for life of me think why you're in Paris for such short stays and why you won't give me the address of a hotel where I could phone you or even come and see you because after all you do stay in hotels even if you are in a different town every day stop so it will be ten days from tomorrow and on 24 Aug I'll be in bed telling myself I'll be seeing him tomorrow and then we'll do this and that stop I am yours I am whatever you want your child your friend your brother and on 25 Aug your wife with lots of dots stop I was so unhappy I cried I didn't get up I wasn't hungry but now I'm hungry especially for your arms around me holding me so tight I'd be most wonderfully black and blue stop on 25 Aug there'll be tea the best but I shan't spill a drop even if I'm kneeling down like the evening I knelt before my Prince of Night stop send me another telegram and tell me you love me and what time you arrive on 25 Aug darling stop every time you think of me over the next 11 days tell yourself at this very moment she's loving you and waiting for you it'll be true every time Ariane her Lord's own.'

  The really ghastly part was having to deal with the telegrams clerk who, being old, would read her completed forms resentfully. How appalling to have to stand in front of him like a defendant in the dock while he counted the words and criticized them silently. Still, nothing for it. Do it quickly. Catching her foot in her left stocking, which had now come down around her ankle, she fell forward, got up, checked her teeth. Nothing broken. Thank you, God. Closing her eyes to make herself invisible, she hitched up her skirt, fixed her stocking, and then made quickly for the clerk's window, where she directed a ravishing smile at the grog-blossomed nose of the disgusting old man in the hope of buying his indulgence.

  When she had paid, still blushing red with embarrassment, she broke free at a run, tore down the steps her face twitching with shame, entered a grocer's shop across the street, emerged with a packet of biscuits, hailed a taxi, and gave the driver her address. The moment she got home, she opened the packet and told the biscuits they were about to be eaten. Best get accustomed to the idea, turn adversity to good account. Use the eleven days to ensure she would be the height of elegance, especially given the fact that in his telegram he had said elegant not very elegant. So look through her clothes, get rid of anything that was below par, and order one or two new things from that new dressmaker everyone was saying was ever so good. That way the time would pass more quickly. 'August the twenty-fifth,' she whispered to the first biscuit.

  CHAPTER 58

  Mariette was in her kitchen fiddling with her kiss-curl as she read Chaste and Blighted, a novel loaned to her by next-door's maid, who looked like a long black grasshopper, flatulent in tendency and ceremonious in manner. She had got to the proud reply of the heroine, who was poor but honest, and turned the page with such eagerness that she knocked her coffee bowl on to the floor. Boil up some glue, she told herself in an even tone of voice designed to proclaim her independence and show that she was not a woman to be upset like that for a mere trifle.

  Armed with brush and pan, she swept up the debris and tipped the lot into a bucket, said lordy it was better than a broken leg, sat down again, and went on with her book. She had just got to the bit where the wicked marquis gets his comeuppance when the creaking of the front door made her shut her book, which she pushed hurriedly into her work-basket under some half-finished knitting. 'Miss Slyboots is back, you just wait to hear what I go
t to say to her, she's not going to get away with it,' she muttered, and she reached for a broom so that she would look busy.

  'Oh, so you're back, Madame Ariane, I didn't hear you. I hope the terry gram wasn't bad news?'

  'No, not bad news. (A pause.) It says we're going to have a visitor in the next couple of days.'

  'Well now, that's all right then, because there was me thinking something had happened to Monsieur Adrien and that you was upset seeing as how you shot off like that in such a great hurry. I expect your visitor is a lady?'

  'No.'

  'Perhaps a gentleman then?'

  'A friend of my husband's. And of mine too, of course.'

  'Oh yes, I'm sure,' said Mariette, carrying on sweeping studiously. 'It's a real shame, though, Monsieur Adrien being away on his trip. He'd have been so pleased to see this friend of his. A friend of your husband, that's nice, very nice. Anyhow, I can see you're over the moon about it. It's written all over your face.'

  'Yes I am. I haven't seen him in ages, and of course I'll be happy to see him again, very happy I should say. I do like him most terribly.'

  'In this life, you got to like people. It's nature's way. Liking people is what makes life worth living. And anyway it'll be something for you to do. Having a bit of a chat will be a lot better for you than lounging about in bed by yourself, thinking. Pity Monsieur Adrien's away. Still, I'll give this whole place a good going over, just you see if I don't.'

  'Thank you, Mariette. As a matter of fact, I would like everything to be impeccable. Oh, by the way, I called in to see Gentet on my way home. His men will be coming to paint the ceilings and the woodwork.'

  'What, the whole lot?'

  'No, just the hall and my little sitting-room.'

  'Which is to say the main bits. But while you're on, you ought to make the most of it and do out your bedroom too. It could do with it, don't you think?'

  'Perhaps. I'll see.'

  'Them painters will leave mess all over the floor. Never mind, after they've been and gone I'll make everything as clean as a new pin so it'll be as implacable as you could wish for. Is this gentleman good-looking?'

  'Why do you ask?'

  'Dunno, just curious, I'll be glad to have a visitor round the place, it'll make a change, so I'd be more pleased than not if he was good-looking. I like men with looks.'

  'He's not bad,' smiled Ariane. 'It's rather that he's intelligent and well-read. I like talking to him.'

  'That's right, there's nothing like a bit of a chin-wag, specially if you take a shine to the other person. I always say you got to make the most of life, because when you get old it's too late. When I get past it I'm going to tell the sister in the hospital to give us a good thump on the head with the water-jug and get it over and done with, and it won't bother me none if they don't plant me six feet under. They can throw me out with the sweepings if they want! I'd rather spend my money now and have a bit of fun, go to the pictures or treat meself to one of them pistachio cakes with kirsch in, rather than have other people spending it on a coffin for me that I'll never know I'm in anyway. (She put in a few vigorous strokes with her broom.) Oh dearie me yes, they can sweep me away when I'm dead, chuck ole Mariette down the stairs, dump ole Mariette in the gutter! And what would this visitor of yours do? He wouldn't do writing, would he?'

  'He's one of the most important men in the League of Nations,' said Ariane, who immediately produced a diversionary yawn.

  'Of course he is,' said Mariette. 'One of their high-ups. Must be ever so clever. He'll be Monsieur Adrien's boss, then. All the more reason for brightening the place up with a lick of paint so that it all looks nice for when he comes. Monsieur Adrien will be ever so pleased that you'll be rolling out the red carpet for his boss. Always pays to get in good with the bosses. Oh, there's twelve striking. Shall I do the lunch for one o'clock?'

  'No, start it now, I'm hungry.'

  'It's the fresh air, it's done you good to go out. And what'll you be wearing to impress the gentleman when he comes calling, seeing as how he's so important and all?'

  'Haven't a clue. I'm going to have a quick bath. While I'm doing that, you can set the table, I'm ravenous,' said Ariane with a pirouette which sent her dress whirling, and she went. On the stairs, she gave a quick burst of the air of the Whitsun hymn at the top of her voice.

  Whereupon, lifting her skirts with the pockets fastened by safety-pins where she kept her modest savings, the little old woman danced a wild, improvised cancan and sang: 'You need sy-hympathy, sy-hympathy, just sympathee.' Punctuating her jig with the words, tossing her head back and raising her stumpy fat legs like a circus horse, she continued galloping on the spot while upstairs the lovesick maiden in her bath rent the air again with Bach's glorious notes and announced the coming of a heavenly king.

  CHAPTER 59

  Wearily, moronically, exuding an aura of sexuality, the regally strutting, belly-thrusting, eyes-on-the-prize models paraded one last time under the strict eye of the diminutive dressmaker, who executed an elegant half-turn and beamed at the customer.

  'Well, dear lady, I think we are agreed on all points. (She looked away, appalled by the "dear lady".) Today is the fourteenth. So we shall arrange a first fitting for Friday the seventeenth and a second on Wednesday the twenty-second, since everything must be finished and delivered on Saturday the twenty-fifth by eleven o'clock at the very latest. We shall have our work cut out but we shall not fail you, our sole aim being always to please. The styles you have chosen are absolutely you, terrifically chic, and will look stunning on. And now, Madame, if you will forgive me .. .'

  Primped and perfumed and highly pleased with himself, Volkmaar bowed then went on his hip-rolling way, leaving his chief sales assistant to bring up the matter of the account. This Mademoiselle Chloé, a platinum blonde with a fearsome chin, did with consummate discretion. Ariane coloured, murmured that she had not given the matter a thought, adding that her bank was very likely closed by now.

  'Oh yes, Madame, banks shut at five,' said the sales assistant in a tone of sententious gloom shot through with the imperceptible hint of a rebuke.

  'It really is too annoying, but what can I do?' said the customer guiltily, while Chloé looked away questioningly towards the podgy purveyor of high fashion, who blinked to signal acquiescence, for the client in question was of the naive-but-honest variety.

  'No rush, Madame,' said Chloé. Tomorrow morning will do fine,' she crooned, as if she were talking to a baby. 'We open at nine. Good-day, Madame. No, please allow me, I'll close it behind you.'

  When she got out into the street, Ariane stared at the ground and ran through her purchases in her mind. First, the two evening dresses, the white crêpe, very simple, and the gold lamé, the 'Juno' model, Volkmaar had called it, rather grand, awfully elegant. And the two rustic linen suits, one white with the spencer and the blue one with the roomy cardigan-style jacket, mother-of-pearl buttons, three-quarter sleeves and fob pockets. The cardigan was a darling, she had quite fallen in love with it. (She smiled at the darling cardigan.) And the light-grey flannel two-piece was divine too, very classic, boxy, flap pockets and tailored collar. She'd feel good in it. The 'Cambridge', it had been called by the moronic creature who had modelled it and, incidentally, worn it rather well.

  'Yes, my lord, I shall wear the "Cambridge" and shall be pleasing in your sight.'

  She halted, with the sudden feeling that the neckline on the gold lamé was cut too low. The red-haired girl who had worn it had shown a good three-quarters of her bosom, and one breast had all but jumped out when she did that quick turn. Slowly she walked on, pensive, head down. When she reached the lake she stopped again, riven by two other blunders which were far worse. Just two fittings was madness! No dress was ever right at the second fitting!

  'It was also crazy to agree to wait until the twenty-fifth, the day Sol gets back, to have everything delivered. There are bound to be things that aren't right, and there won't be enough time for the alterations. Even sup
posing I take them back before twelve on the Saturday, they'll only have the afternoon to put right whatever's gone horribly wrong, and that's assuming they are open on Saturday afternoons, in any case they'll do it in a rush and they'll send me back a horribly botched job and I won't have anything to wear when he arrives, well nothing except for my old rags. And all because Piglet and Chloé were such bullies. But there you are, vulgar people always intimidate me. And the way they kept talking all the time got me all mixed up, in the end I was saying yes to everything just to get it over with and leave and not have to listen to any more dear-ladying. Basically I'm a coward, that's it, not equipped for life. No, but just a minute, you've got to do something about it, you've got to go back and see Piglet. No backing down, put up a fight. That's it, fight for his sake, so he thinks I look elegant. O my love, I've suffered agonies, I had no idea what was going on. Why did he take so long before wiring? Yes, fight! But first let's work out what I'll say to Piglet, stating my reasons. Draw up a battle-plan, write a summary so you're not left high and dry, there's a cafe, you can write it there, yes, come along.'