Hector and the Secrets of Love

by Francois Lelord

  Hector told himself that, after all, Jean-Marcel already knew the country and he could be trusted.

  They walked into the middle of the ruined temple, taking care anyway to keep to the path.

  ‘Magnificent!’ said Jean-Marcel.

  And it was true. On the crumbling walls beautiful dancers sculpted in stone smiled mysteriously, no doubt because they knew that with those perfect curves they would never be short of lovers of art. Reading the guide to the region, Hector had understood why Professor Cormorant had wanted to come to this temple: it had been built by a prince who, after getting to know one of the dancers intimately, had dedicated it to love. For a moment, he envisaged Clara’s face on the bodies of all the stone dancers, and wondered whether if he built a temple like that just for her she would fall in love with him again. Well, she must still be in love with him a little, mustn’t she?

  ‘Over here is very beautiful,’ he heard Jean-Marcel’s voice say.

  Hector carried on along the path and found Jean-Marcel admiring a large doorway that had become a bit lopsided over time.

  The palace must have been magnificent when it was newly built, but now, in ruins, it had a still more poignant charm. A bit like a long-lost love, thought Hector.

  Jean-Marcel explained, ‘This temple was in use for a century then they fought and lost a few wars, and the jungle reclaimed it.’

  Hector noticed some more little red stakes amid the ruins.

  ‘Hmm,’ said Jean-Marcel, ‘it’s just for show – they can’t have gone to much trouble to clear mines in here; the mines were laid mainly around the temples.’

  Hector wondered whether the temple was going to teach him something or whether he had come here for nothing. Perhaps all he had done was discover the splendour of a lost civilisation, like his might be one day, and Martians might visit the ruins of his city and mistake the remains of traffic lights for icons.

  He was having difficulty keeping up with Jean-Marcel, who had begun climbing a big flight of steps the sides of which were collapsing, when, suddenly, they heard female voices.

  They saw two young Japanese women walking in one of the upper galleries.

  ‘They shouldn’t be up there,’ said Jean-Marcel.

  ‘Because of the mines?’

  ‘No, because this whole thing is liable to collapse. Even though those Japanese girls don’t look too heavy.’

  They gestured to them to come down. The young Japanese women jumped when they saw Hector and Jean-Marcel, then made their way back in their direction, taking very small steps in their Nike trainers, which looked bigger than they were, and their little white sunhats.

  The two men introduced themselves to Miko, who spoke very good English, and Chizourou, who spoke none at all.

  As Hector was a little hot and was beginning to feel quite tired, he stayed in the shade talking to the two young Japanese women, while Jean-Marcel climbed everything it was possible to climb in the temple.

  The two women were great friends. As previously mentioned, people found it quite easy to talk to Hector, and Miko explained she had brought Chizourou sightseeing to take her mind off things, because she had recently had her heart broken. Hector looked at young Chizourou, who did have a very sad expression on her pale face. She had almost married a young man whom she loved very much, but he had decided it wasn’t a good idea. Why? Because the two of them had done the things people in love do, and afterwards the fiancé thought that if Chizourou was able to do that before she got married she wasn’t a responsible girl and he couldn’t possibly marry her. And now Chizourou was thinking about him all the time, and this Hector understood.

  He tried to find something comforting to say to Chizourou. The first thing he thought of was that a boy who had ideas like that wasn’t right for a girl like Chizourou, who was visiting a temple recently cleared of mines in a region that wasn’t safe. So she wouldn’t have been happy with him anyway. Miko translated for Chizourou, who listened attentively and finally gave a little smile. In the end, her story made Hector think about his opinions on love: why do we go on being in love with someone who makes us suffer? And why do we fall out of love with someone who cares about us? Apparently, even Japanese women suffered from this problem. Thinking that reminded Hector of Professor Cormorant’s message about ‘silly cultural prejudices’.

  Miko and Chizourou started talking to each other, and then Miko told Hector they had found a strange sculpture – very different from the row of dancers with their mysterious smiles – in a hidden recess of the temple.

  Just then, Jean-Marcel came back, and he was also very interested in the strange sculpture. Miko and Chizourou showed them the way. They followed the two Japanese women through a series of passageways, where the sun filtered through huge sculpted windows, and suddenly they came out into the forest. Miko explained that they only needed to walk along the outer wall of the temple and they would come to the sculpture.

  ‘Hmm,’ said Jean-Marcel. ‘That will take us outside the temple.’

  ‘There are some little red stakes,’ said Hector.

  ‘I’m not sure that means much.’

  ‘Well, they’ve already been that way.’

  ‘Those girls don’t weigh much and the ground is soft,’ Jean-Marcel said, as though thinking out loud.

  They carried on walking. Jean-Marcel took the lead, followed by Hector, Miko and Chizourou. Hector was glad Chizourou hadn’t taken the lead, because he thought she might not mind stepping on a mine and wouldn’t have been careful enough.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ Hector asked Jean-Marcel.

  ‘Yes, yes, everything’s okay.’

  Even so, Hector noticed Jean-Marcel was looking down at his feet as he walked, and he said to himself that everything wasn’t as okay as all that, and maybe it was stupid to be blown up by a mine while sightseeing or even on a mission for a big pharmaceutical company.

  But Jean-Marcel began singing, which showed he wasn’t too worried. Hector could make out the words:

  ‘If you believe in your destiny

  Take your parachute and jump . . .’

  And he thought to himself that it wasn’t surprising Jean-Marcel had a military appearance.

  They reached a small opening in the temple wall and went through it. They came out into a tiny square courtyard, its walls sculpted with the same type of dancer, but one bas-relief was very different from the others.

  What amused Hector was that it looked like a very early psychoanalysis session – a woman patient was lying on a couch and the analyst, also a woman, was sitting next to her. Of course, she was sitting on the couch and not in an armchair, and she was also massaging the patient’s legs, but as this was the tenth century naturally the technique hadn’t yet had time to evolve. The couch resembled a dragon, which might symbolise the patient’s neurosis, which she would learn to control thanks to psychoanalysis. Underneath it were numerous fish, turtles and other aquatic animals clearly representing the impulses originating in the depths of the unconscious. On the far left you could see the secretary making appointments.

  Hector told himself that if the professor had seen this sculpture he must have found it very interesting.

  ‘Well, there’s more,’ said Jean-Marcel, ‘the tour isn’t over yet.’

  Hector said he’d prefer to continue contemplating the little courtyard and the early psychoanalysis session. Miko had a word with Chizourou and it was decided that Jean-Marcel and Miko would carry on exploring the temple while Hector and Chizourou sat quietly in the shade.

  They heard Jean-Marcel and Miko’s footsteps fade into the distance and then there was silence. Chizourou didn’t speak any English and Hector spoke no Japanese, and so they just exchanged occasional little smiles to show they appreciated each other’s company. Beneath the little white hat, Chizourou’s face had an unassuming, innocent beauty suggesting a pleasant nature, and Hector hoped her fiancé would have time to come to his senses, realise his mistake and go back to Chizourou before
she in turn stopped loving him. He wondered what Chizourou thought about him, and also whether it was obvious he had taken a shine to her.

  Just then, Chizourou puckered her lips and went ‘Ooooooh’ quite loudly, which made Hector jump. She pointed to a crack in the stone above the early psychoanalysis session. You could see a little piece of bamboo, like the tip of a cane, sticking out. Chizourou had only seen it thanks to a ray of sunlight which suddenly made it stand out against the stone.

  Hector wasn’t very good at climbing, but scrambling up the sculpted walls wasn’t very difficult. He grasped the little piece of bamboo and went back to Chizourou.

  She went ‘Ooooooh’ again when she saw Hector pull a roll of paper out of the bamboo. Hector immediately recognised Professor Cormorant’s handwriting.

  Dear friend,

  This note is a gamble, but then so is conducting a scientific experiment. I knew they would send you in search of me, and that you would learn of my visit to the temple. So I counted on your curiosity to lead you to this sculpture, and if you are reading this note then I was right. I received your message, but you are touchingly naïve if you believe you are the only one who knows that email address. They know everything there is to know about you, and probably a bit more besides.

  I am on the brink of making several important discoveries, along with my charming assistant, whom you already know about, and those rotten bastards want to come and spoil everything. To keep them at bay, I must completely cover my tracks, which means severing all communication with you, but I may suddenly need an intermediary like you. Keep sending me emails, but remember I am not the only one reading them, which could be an advantage. In the meantime,

  Make haste, my beloved!

  And be thou like to a roe or to a young hart upon the mountains of spices.

  Kind regards,

  Professor Cormorant

  HECTOR TAKES RISKS

  HECTOR had scarcely finished reading Professor Cormorant’s note under Chizourou’s inquisitive gaze when they heard Miko’s terrified screams coming from outside.

  They dashed out of the little courtyard and came to the edge of a grassy path overgrown by trees, which must have been an old moat. There they saw Miko, crying and screaming at the same time, and looking frightened.

  Crouched at her feet, Jean-Marcel appeared to be cautiously digging up the soil with his hands.

  ‘Stay where you are,’ he shouted to Hector. ‘Tell Miko to come over to you.’

  Chizourou and Miko had begun talking very fast in Japanese, and this time it was Chizourou who seemed to be comforting Miko.

  Hector insisted Miko come over to them but she appeared terror-struck, unable to move. She had seen that Jean-Marcel was dealing with a landmine and she could no longer trust the ground around her.

  Eventually, Hector, trying to walk in Miko and Jean-Marcel’s footsteps, went over and brought Miko back to Chizourou, whom he had left standing with her feet firmly planted in a big stone doorway.

  ‘That’s better,’ said Jean-Marcel. ‘I don’t like being watched while I work.’

  Eventually he stood up, holding a small greenish plastic saucer in his hand.

  ‘You can always spot them if you look closely, especially after rain, which brings them up to the surface. But it’s very difficult at night.’

  Hector wondered when Jean-Marcel would have had the opportunity of walking over a minefield at night – he must have led a very interesting life. But Jean-Marcel continued explaining.

  ‘We’re safe now,’ he said. ‘It takes about thirty kilos of pressure to make this n asty little thing blow up.’

  He began unscrewing a sort of stopper on top of the mine and pulled out a little tube and some other small objects and tossed them as far as he could into the forest, and he placed the defused mine on a rock where everyone could see it.

  ‘That’ll show them they might need to be a bit more thorough about clearing mines.’

  He walked back towards them looking rather pleased with himself. Hector remembered that one of the secrets of happiness was feeling you are doing something useful, and there was no doubt Jean-Marcel had just done something useful.

  Chizourou still had her arms round Miko, comforting her, and they were quite touching, the little Japanese girls, as Jean-Marcel called them.

  Finally, they decided it was time to go back to their car; the business with the mine had put a bit of a dampener on their excursion.

  Under the tree, their driver had fallen asleep behind the wheel with all the doors open because it was very hot.

  The young Japanese girls went ‘Ooooooh’ again. Miko explained they had also hired a car with a driver, but he wasn’t there any more – he must have left without them.

  ‘I don’t like the look of this,’ said Jean-Marcel.

  ‘Neither do I,’ said Hector.

  Having avoided the mines, they were now possibly going to be exposed to the other danger in that beautiful region: bad people. The crazy leaders who had nearly destroyed that country were no longer in power, but some of their troops had taken refuge in the forest where they still lived, growing rich from trafficking various things: drugs that were grown nearby, precious stones that almost flowed out of the earth, or young girls whom they treated as merchandise. From time to time, they kidnapped people passing through and demanded ransom money, and sometimes they killed them, although that didn’t happen very often as the new army in their country came down hard on them, which was bad for business. So the risk of death was very slight (as slight as stumbling on a mine in a temple cleared of mines). But Miko and Chizourou’s driver had left without them and this sudden flight might mean he knew something, unlike Hector and Jean-Marcel’s driver who woke up laughing because, as Jean-Marcel said, he was an idiot.

  HECTOR IS THOUGHTFUL

  IN the car, just to occupy his mind, Hector began to think about love again. He was in the back with Miko and Chizourou, while Jean-Marcel sat next to the driver and watched the road very attentively.

  Hector was thinking about his feelings towards the air hostess who had brought him champagne, and also about the fact that Jean-Marcel couldn’t manage to be a saint when he was travelling in that region. It was nothing to be proud of, but it was still part of love – feeling desire for someone you scarcely know and don’t necessarily want to get to know, except to do what people do when they are in love, although love didn’t come into it in this case.

  The countryside was as beautiful on the way back as it had been on the way there, but the thought that the region was unsafe made everything appear threatening. Even the cows seemed to be watching them slyly as they went past.

  Sexual desire was clearly part of love, but it wasn’t everything. What were the sure signs that you loved someone?

  Jean-Marcel took a small pair of binoculars out of his bag.

  Hector thought about Clara. He missed her. That was love, missing the other person when they were far away. But Hector also remembered that when he was a child and his parents left him at summer camp he missed them a lot to begin with. (He felt better after a couple of days because he made friends.) So missing people was also an element in non-sexual love.

  The car braked sharply, interrupting his thoughts – a cow had just crossed the road without looking, and Jean-Marcel shouted a stream of abuse at it, which luckily neither Miko nor Chizourou could understand.

  Sometimes, you could also miss someone you loved almost exclusively sexually. Hector remembered having both male and female patients who would say things like: ‘We have nothing to say to one another of any interest, but as soon as we’re in bed . . .’

  It was a bit like a drug you’d like to stop taking, but which you can’t live without and it creates a real need.

  He opened his little notebook and wrote:

  Seedling no. 8: Sexual desire is essential to love.

  He knew there were also couples who loved each other deeply and who hardly ever made love, even though it wasn’t at all fa
shionable to say so nowadays. He added: but not always.

  Seedling no. 9: Needing the other is a sign of love.

  Just then, he saw Jean-Marcel speaking into his portable phone, which looked bigger than an ordinary mobile, then he quickly put it back in his bag. Hector had time to glimpse a black metallic object in the bag as he did so.

  ‘Is everything all right?’ he asked.

  ‘There’s no signal here,’ said Jean-Marcel.

  And yet Hector had the impression Jean-Marcel had said a few words into the phone.

  A few seconds later, he saw a helicopter fly overhead before disappearing.

  He remembered the hotel offered it as a way of visiting the temple, but friends had always told him there were countries where you should never go in a helicopter, and this was one of them.

  He thought again of Clara and the jokes they had made about the crabs on the beach back on the island. At that moment, neither of them had felt desire, nor had they been missing each other because they were together. And yet it had been an intensely happy moment and they had laughed at the same things. How could you describe that kind of love?

  Miko asked him what he was writing in his notebook, and Hector explained he was writing down some thoughts about love. Miko explained this to Chizourou and they both looked intrigued. Hector had noticed that girls everywhere liked to talk about love, whereas boys didn’t always. Hector asked her what the clearest sign of being in love was in Japan.

  Chizourou and Miko talked for a moment and then said that the clearest sign of love is when you miss the other person and think about him or her all the time.

  Yet another argument against silly cultural prejudices, Professor Cormorant would have said.

  HECTOR SUFFERS