by Albert Cohen
Leaning his brow against the glass, he closed his eyes and pictured her lying with her head on a large, smooth chest. There it was: on her perfumed isle, she had forgotten him completely, was giving her new man the same kisses she had lavished on him during their first days together! Perhaps, given the climate, her kisses were even more abandoned, kisses with snaking, probing tongue, all quite exceptionally obscene! He was beginning to feel a surge of desire for her when, turning round, he saw that the unhappy girl was lying on the carpet, face down, body convulsed with sobs.
He took her in his arms, picked her up, laid her on the bed, and threw a fur coat over her, for her teeth were chattering with cold. He tiptoed into the bathroom and came back with a hot-water bottle, which he put under the fur coat. He turned out the ceiling light, switched on her bedside lamp, knelt but did not dare kiss her hand, whispered that she was to call if she needed him, and then, feeling none too proud of himself, he tiptoed out.
In the sitting-room, he stood in the darkness by the door he had quietly closed, pacing, listening for sounds, thinking about the wretched life they led, smoking and touching his chest at intervals with the glowing end of his cigarette. Finally he made up his mind, opened the door carefully, padded across to the bed, leaned over the innocent girl who in sleep was released from her misery, his woman whom he had hurt, she who had given him her heart, she who had danced in wonderment at the Ritz, she who had wanted nothing more than to go away and live with him for ever, his trusting girl who believed her happiness would have no end, who had grown thin believing. Kneeling, his cheeks lit by tears, he watched over his blameless girl who slept like a child, his woman whom he had hurt. 'I will never, ever hurt you again,' he told her to himself, 'and I will love you with all my might and you shall be happy, you'll see.'
CHAPTER 89
Next morning, after a melancholy shave, he lit a cigarette to get himself back into an optimistic frame of mind, and forced a smile to convince himself that he had found the answer. Of course! They must sever all social links, because constantly rubbing shoulders with other people reminded them that they were outcasts and therefore alone, walled up inside their love. If they had a house of their own, they would have no contact with others and wouldn't be troubled by the contrast, by reminders of the life which went on outside. They would live in their own world and, seeing nobody, would not need other people. And he would do all he could to make their house a temple where he could set before her a life of perfect love.
It was all quite absurd, but he had gone too far down the road to turn back now. The major task ahead was to make her happy, he told himself as he strode breezily into her room, twirling his beads to make himself look keen, like a man whose mind was made up. He kissed her at once on her forehead, her eyes, her hands, to infect her with hope.
'Hello, my angel, my only love! It's all over, finis, I'm cured: no more scenes ever again! All things are new made! Glory to God in the Highest! And there's something else,' he announced, with well-feigned exhilaration, and he took both her hands in his. 'Listen. How would you like to have a house of our very own? The one you looked at the other day and said was sweet?'
'Near La Baumette? The one that's to let?'
'Yes, my love.'
She nuzzled up close to him and laughed in the elusive, tremulous way she had that night at the Ritz. A house of their own! And one with such a pretty name: Belle de Mai! (She could already picture herself as Queen of the May.) He looked at her, touched by her resilience, by her youthful capacity for hope! She leaped out of bed.
'I want to see it at once! Let me have my bath! Off you go, darling! Order the taxi while you're waiting! It won't take me long to dress!'
The moment the taxi drew up outside Belle de Mai she fell head over heels in love with the house, which backed on to a modest pine-grove and boasted a lawn which ran down to the sea edge. Oh, those four cypresses! After a tour, punctuated by much excited whooping, of this gem of a house, she came running back to him, covered his hand with kisses, complained that he wasn't admiring it enough, that he wasn't saying with sufficient enthusiasm that Belle de. Mai was fairyland, declared that she already felt utterly at home and read out what was written on the notice fixed to the gate. 'House to Let. All enquiries to Maitre Simiand, Solicitor, Cannes.' She dragged him by the hand to make him hurry up, threw herself into the taxi, and kissed his silk cuffs. Imitating the doll-woman at the Royal, she sang out that what she wanted was Belle de Mai, so there, Belle de Mai, yah-boo-sucks!
Still dragging him by the hand, she went up the steps leading to the solicitor's office two at a time. Oh, it was the only house worthy of them! She burst through the door and spoke to the oldest of the clerks. 'We'd like to rent Belle de Mai.' The elderly chief clerk, a tall smoked eel in a celluloid wing-collar, asked what this Belle de Mai was. She explained, said that she and her husband had decided that the house was just what they wanted and that they would like to take it. The way the chief clerk shook his head filled her with panic. Was it already let? 'I couldn't rightly say.'
They sat down. 'Perhaps we could buy it?' she said, prompting him. He did not have time to reply, because at that moment Maitre Simiand himself suddenly appeared at the door of his office, perfectly groomed and exuding clouds of royal fern. He made way for them with the courteous deference which earned him the lasting respect of his fellow citizens until the day when, several years later, he was charged with misappropriation and fraud. She sat facing him across his Empire desk and, shaking slightly, spoke her little speech, giving a delightful description of the house, to which the young solicitor listened appreciatively.
'I felt immediately at home there,' the poor girl repeated. (She's happy now she's having dealings with someone other than myself, thought Solal.) 'The two cypresses on either side are absolutely marvellous,' she said with a social smile. (A whiff of adultery there, thought Solal.) 'I hope it isn't let already?'
'Well, negotiations are under way with a second party.'
Solal saw through his little game but said nothing. The rent would be put up, but what did it matter? It wasn't much of a sacrifice to pay slightly over the odds so that she could have the pleasure of a sham conversation with someone other than the hotel waiter or her hairdresser, someone almost of her own sort. Go ahead, make the most of it, my darling.
'But nothing's been signed yet?' she asked.
'No, but the party concerned are personal friends of the owner.'
She wanted to say something bold along the lines of business is business, but didn't dare. Instead, she made do with remarking that she would be prepared to offer more than these other people, well just a little more. He watched his innocent girl, who was born to be swindled. Who would look after her later on, when he was no longer there to do it?
'Such is not our practice,' said the solicitor with impressive coolness. 'The figure quoted to the other party is forty-eight thousand francs per annum. In all honesty, we cannot ask you to pay more. That is the price. (He normally asks for half that and gets no takers, thought Solal.) But the other party are having second thoughts, hedging, haggling.'
'I see,' she said with a smile. 'But don't you think it's rather expensive?'
'Not at all.'
'And you're quite sure that the house is satisfactory from all points of view?' asked the woman of business. 'Because we haven't seen round inside yet.'
'Quite sure.' (She inhaled contentedly, sensing that here was a bargain not to be missed.)
'We'll take it.'
The solicitor yielded with a nod, and she told herself that really it wasn't expensive at all. In fact everything was cheap in France, since all you had to do was divide by six. Eight thousand Swiss francs wasn't dear. Excellent, a snip. The solicitor concluded their business by saying that the key was with the estate agent, who was located just a few doors up the street, at number twenty. He would draw up a tenancy agreement for them to sign, it being understood, of course, that a full year's rental was to be paid in advance.r />
The agent was a vast, verbose shark on whose desk were a three-inch shell, a picture of Marshal Foch and a statuette of the Virgin, all designed to inspire confidence. The solicitor had just phoned and he knew what sort of people he was dealing with. While his mute, myopic assistant sat at his desk opposite, beavering away with a quill beneath the low, smoke-begrimed ceiling, he spent a quarter of an hour drawing freely on a copious stock of platitudes, expatiating on divers complex matters concerning the leasing and sale of property which had absolutely nothing to do with Belle de Mai. In the end he declared that, unfortunately for them, the other party had telephoned him that very morning to say that they were prepared to accept the figure of forty-eight thousand, a development of which Maitre Simiand was unaware. And naturally, given that they were friends of the owner. 'Oh no,' she murmured. There might just be a way round it, added the agent. Yes, their rivals were baulking at the prospect of having to pay the land tax, though it came to a mere six thousand francs. The estate shark would have quoted a somewhat higher figure had it not been for the impenetrable attitude of the husband. He was wondering whether he was really as stupid as he seemed, or whether he would put his oar in at the last moment.
'Done,' she said.
The agent inserted his little finger into one ear and asked Ariane if the fifty-four thousand francs could be paid then and there. She turned to Solal, who reached for his cheque-book.
'And naturally, there are the costs of drawing up the tenancy agreement, the registration fee and sundry other expenses to be considered.'
Naturally,' she said, 'I quite see that. So can we sign the contract at once? Because we'd like the key so that we can see inside.'
She jumped out of the taxi, opened the gate, unlocked the front door, and stopped dead in her tracks, bowled over by the spacious hall and the high gallery which circled it. Oh, she would turn Belle de Mai into such a delightful home that it would be a pleasure to live there. And it was such a fine day too! The first of December and the sun so hot! She took both his hands and, leaning her head back, made him wheel round and round with her until the two of them were quite dizzy. She stopped suddenly, overwhelmed by a feeling of tender compassion for him. He had whirled round clumsily, like a child being taught a marvellous new game, and it struck her that he could not have played much when he was a boy.
They wandered from room to room. Forcefully, her voice ringing loudly through the empty, echoing rooms, she pointed out where their bedrooms would be, and the drawing-room and the dining-room. When she realized that there were two bathrooms, she gave a delighted little shriek. Really, fifty-four thousand francs, which was nine thousand francs in real money, wasn't a lot. After a quick inspection of the cellar and the attic, she decided they must go back to Cannes to choose furniture and carpets, or at least get some ideas.
'We'll spend the whole afternoon at it, all right?' she said in the taxi. 'That won't be too long, because there are so many things that need to be decided. But first we'll have lunch. I'm absolutely ravenous! Look, darling, let's not go to the Moscow this time. We'll go to some little restaurant, if that's all right with you. To start, I'll order a huge omelette aux fines herbes, or maybe one with ham in it, but only if you promise you won't think too badly of me. Happy? Me too! Ecstatic!'
That evening at the Royal they talked endlessly about their very own Belle de Mai, sang its praises, discussed the furniture they'd already bought, drew up plans, and kissed a great deal. At midnight they separated. But shortly afterwards he heard a shy knock, saw a sheet of paper which had been slipped under his door, picked it up, and read: 'Doth it please my Lord to share the bed of his servant?'
An hour later, as he slept pressed up against her, she was busily thinking in the dark. It would have to look very grand, very attractive inside, because they'd be spending the rest of their lives there. Two bathrooms was perfect, and Sol's room connected with one of them. It was annoying that there was only one lavatory, which would be awkward. That's it, have a lavatory installed in each of the bathrooms while Sol was away. Yes, get him out of the way while the house was being done out, so that she would have peace to get on with various not very romantic improvements. Oh yes, an absolute must, a lavatory in each bathroom, that was the answer. That way there'd be no embarrassing moments.
At eight next morning, already bathed and dressed, they went downstairs. After having breakfast in the dining-room, much to the surprise of the hotel staff, they set off. Taking his arm, she reverted to her brisk, social voice.
'Darling, I have something serious to say, which is that I'd rather you left everything to me and didn't see the work on the house being done in bits and pieces. You see, I want it to be like a wave of a magic wand for you, I don't want you back here until everything is good and ready. I'll wire Mariette and ask her to come at once. She'll come all right. She does everything I want her to. But you mustn't stay in Agay, because if you do we'll be tempted to see each other.'
And besides, though this she did not mention to him, there was the crucial issue of the two lavatories which were to be put in, and she must make absolutely sure that he didn't get wind of the scheme nor the briefest glimpse, even a distant peek, of the two china pedestals being delivered. And, furthermore, she also wanted to feel free to be a bit hoydenish and wind-blown while everything was being got ready, to feel she could gossip with Mariette without anyone peering over her shoulder, and polish and scrub to her heart's content: it would be such fun.
'So, darling, you'll shoot off to Cannes tonight, won't you? You'll stay at the best hotel, of course: you can let me know which. I'll give you a ring as soon as everything is ready here. I reckon it'll all be done and dusted in a couple of weeks. We won't write, and it will be heavenly when you get back! But now I've got something rather important to say, darling. I've made up my mind to be your Chancellor of the Exchequer. I don't want you to have to bother with money matters. Now that we have our very own house, I shall be the one who looks after the accounts.'
It was agreed that he would give her a cheque each month and that she would take care of everything. But she did not tell him that she intended to write to her bank in Geneva and ask them to send a hundred thousand French francs after they'd sold the requisite number of shares. In this way, by using the Chancellor of the Exchequer subterfuge, she would be able to contribute to their expenses without his being any the wiser. Was a hundred thousand French francs too much? No, not when it was divided by six. Oh yes, she'd turn the house into a temple where they would lead a life devoted entirely to love. She took his hand in hers and looked at him with all her soul.
'Darling, this is the beginning of a new life, our real life, isn't it?'
CHAPTER 90
'How time flies, fourth of Febbry today, and Febbry hath only twenty eight, like it says in the rhyme, and is the bad-temperedest month of the lot, two months I been here already at this Agay place, they don't give poor ole Mariette a second thought unless they need her, and she was lucky to catch me before I left Geneva, if she'd sent that terrygram a week later she'd have found me gone seeing as how I had this fancy to pop up to see my sister and have a look round Paris 'cos I'm very strong on Family, why on the very morning the terrygram come I was only saying just before the terrygram was delivered I was saying to meself Mariette you got to enjoy yourself a bit 'cos you're not getting any younger it'll soon be time you started thinking of getting measured for your box there are times when I'm right down in the dumps you'd never believe how low I get, anyroad I was ready for the off seeing as how I'd already handed ole Face-Ache my notice what with Monsieur Adrien being over his upset and just about to go off to Africa on his political travels it was mainly on his account that I'd stayed so long but to have to put up with ole Face-Ache going on all hours of the day saying how Madame Ariane had no morals calling her a tart was the bally limit, of course it upset me to go on account of Monsieur Hippolyte never a word from him against Madame Ariane, but that's how things go love's got a mind of its own
love's a bird that grows up wild like the song says, but anyroad as soon as Monsieur Adrien went off to Africa I felt easy in my mind that I could go for a bit of a look round Paris and have a chance to get over the turn I had what a shock seeing him there with his head covered in blood, 'cos late that night I thought to meself it's no good I just gotter go and find out how things stand, it's what they call a premonitition 'cos when I'd been as usual that morning not suspecting anything was up not even knowing he was back he said he didn't need me 'cos Madame Ariane had gone away and was never coming back then he shut the door in my face but in a sad way not an angry way, all day long I kept asking meself shall I go back or shan't I but I didn't dare go on account of the look on his face and then about eleven at night I thought it's no good I'm going, so I get dressed quickly put my hat on the black one that's so pretty and I fetch the key she gave me a key so as I wouldn't go ringing the doorbell of a morning, in I go everything quiet as the grave nobody downstairs so I go upstairs, nobody in his room, I go into his washroom, there he was, poor lad, on his knees on the floor looking like a corpse with his head covered in blood on the stool poor lamb, it fair knocked the stuffing out of me, the gun on the floor and me not knowing what to do for the best, I thought get the police so I tried to call the police straight away on the terryphone but terryphones are awkward beggars the receiver thing shook in my hand something terrible so quick I run round to get my friend who works as a maid for the neighbours next door, no oil-painting but ever so nice and well-spoken, she throws a coat over her nightie and runs back with me to the scene of the tragedy to phone for the police, she's ejucated knows how to put things, then for the doctor as a matter of fact it was the one from Cologny just up the road which was handy, Dr Saladin, nice-looking man, anyway to cut a long story short the doctor just took one look at him and saw he wasn't a goner but he needed treating pretty sharpish, so quick send for the ambulance, in fact it was my idea to call round that saved his bacon, You saved his life, my dear, Dr Saladin says to me, his very words, now just picture the sort of tizz I was in being caught up in the tragical middle of a love story gone wrong but you gotter hand it to me I was quick off the mark with the right ideas such as telling my friend the maid to send a terrygram straight away to ole Face-Ache to say she was to come back spit-spot on the double, she was away in Belgium looking after some rich ole biddy prob'ly to get her name put down in her will she don't miss a trick that one take it from me, but anyroad she comes rushing back 'cos give her her due she thinks the sun shines out of her Didi, you should have heard her going on something chronic about Madame Ariane to Monsieur Hippolyte, a tigress wasn't in it, of course I had to tell Madame Ariane all about it 'cos she hadn't heard a thing seeing as how nobody knew her address, so the minute I got here I'd hardly got my coat off before she was asking me how Monsieur Adrien was, meaning how he'd taken her going off like that, 'cos she didn't know anything about the tragedy of love at the end of its tether, asking after his health looking a bit shamefaced but caring too, so then I just had to tell her everything 'cos she had no idea, his head covered in blood, the whole lot, the bullet in his temple, just think, but it hadn't gone in very deep, she wept buckets, eyes all puffy and red as if they'd had paprika put in them, the strong sort, blowing her nose all the time blaming herself, you see her conscience was telling her it was all her fault, the wages of sin as they say, anyroad I calmed her down, he's fine now I said, I even told a lie by making out he'd put on weight, she said that Monsieur Solal mustn't know, that I wasn't to mention the tragedy, so as I was saying her terrygram upset all my plans seeing as how after Paris at my sister's I was counting on finding meself a new position got to I need the money and besides I get so down when I don't keep on the go, oh I wouldn't have liked being a princess, I think I'll make meself a nice little cup of coffee, so I was thinking that when I got back from my sister's, she's got a very nice job, caretaker for the Aga Khan, I'd look around for another position I was thinking that even before I went off to Paris to see my sister, we're very fond of each other closer than twins we are and besides there was the business of the Spaniard and I wanted to see her to talk it through with her 'cos my niece has been put in the family way by a Spaniard he's a waiter in a cafe very dark-skinned seems he's got a bit of the Arab in the background and now that he's got her into trouble he don't want to marry her they're all the same so I says to meself I'd better go and sort it out, give the dago a piece of my mind seems he's an ugly devil got hair all over him even got hairs sprouting in his ears, that's how they like them these days, that's modern girls for you, now if you'd have seen my hubby, but anyway as I was saying even before I went off to Paris to sort out this business of my niece I was thinking of going over and telling Monsieur Agrippa that when I got back from seeing my sister and her daughter who's been left in the lurch by a rotter, my niece that is, that I'd be free to do for him but only on condition that he gives that Euphrosine the elbow because I just won't be bossed around by a jumped-up nobody, but just then Madame Ariane's terrygram arrives and when it comes to choosing she'll always come first 'cos I powdered her little botty when she was a baby, I'd hardly got the terrygram when I thought quick get yourself round to Monsieur Agrippa's and tell him his niece's address but then I says to meself hold your horses my girl in the first place it's delicate seeing as how Monsieur Agrippa is so very proper and in the second maybe she don't want anybody to know where she's gone to not even her uncle but later on she told me she'd written to him and put him in the picture, it must have been a shock to the poor man what with him being so proper and religious to find out that his darling niece had been carrying on something chronic, anyway to get back to the beginning and what I was saying about how quick off the mark I am, speedy is my middle name, the day after I got the terrygram I was already settled in here helping Madame Ariane in all sorts of ways, chipping in with advice about furniture fittings and carpets, she had to have the finest sheets, I daren't think of the cost, and all this time he didn't show his face seeing as how she'd told him he was to stay in Cannes, his lordship was above such things, couldn't bear to see all the scrubbing and that, but she did go to Cannes twice, no I tell a lie, three times she went, for a bit of slap and tickle of course though she reckoned it was to talk about furniture, but not more than three times seeing as how she was so set on getting everything good and ready here for her fancy man, everything had to look very grand, just like on the stage, what took most time was the two extra lavs, no shut up don't make me larf, I'll tell you all about it, I don't like it here, all that sea water in wintertime is ever so gloomy, good job they got the central heating 'cos though it's supposed to be hot all the time on your Riviera it's not true, with the wind they get here take it from me hot it isn't, and besides it's too near the sea, I just can't get used to the noise of the sea, at night it's like dead men singing, I came here for her sake, good job the hotel I'm staying in said I could have a room without board, oh it's quite small, a sort of working man's hotel, it's just got six rooms and a cafe downstairs, good job it's a fair way from the sea, you don't get the noise of the waves yowling like souls in torment, it was her that didn't want me here at night, said there wasn't enough room, oh there's plenty of room but I know the real reason, she wants her big romance with tall dark Mr Handsome to be a secret, with nobody to see them at night when they're spooning and lovey-doveying, you know love's old dream love's sweet dream, I'll tell you all about it, there's heaps of time 'cos I got everything ready and besides Romeo and Juliet are out for a stroll, but there's stacks of work to do here I even worked Xmas Day just like it was an ordinary day, I even come in on Sundays, 'cos everything has to be just so for his nibs the Prince of Passion, just like on the films, poor Didi nobody ever did as much for you, though come to think of it if I didn't come in on a Sunday I'd only get bored all by meself in my room, 'cos I haven't got to know a soul in the hotel don't want to they're a common lot, but as I was saying every day it's temple-of-love stuff with the pair of them priesting and prieste
ssing nineteen to the dozen, and the way she runs round tending him hand and foot, always telling me mind he don't see that, mind he don't find out, watch out for this, watch out for that, he don't like this and he don't like that, oh no nobody ever got so soppy over poor ole Didi though he was always nice to me always had a kind word for me, but Prince Charming don't talk to me much don't even look at me, mark my words her uncle, I mean Monsieur Agrippa, will leave her everything house the lot in his will, the house at Champel that is, and she'll sell it see if she don't, 'cos she won't dare go back to Geneva to live, she'll get thousands and thousands for it seeing as how it's the old style of house very grand and all them grounds and in the poshest part of town land don't come cheap, not that she'll get all it fetches seeing as how the bank and lawyers and the rest have sticky fingers and eyes that's bigger than their bellies, to my mind Monsieur Agrippa hasn't got long to go, he's as thin as I don't know thin as a stick of wild asparagus the spindly green sort that's got more flavour than the cultivated kind, to my mind going by how he behaves he can't ever have touched a woman, oh no he's not got long for this world, so when it comes down to it even doctors snuff it for all the knowing airs they put on, 'cos when your time is up it's up, ah poor ole Mariette your turn will come, you didn't make the most of your chances when you were young and now you've got big swelled-up legs like a elephant in the circus, but as I was saying she'd hardly sent the terrygram before I was here, that was on the fourth of December, the pair of us set to and by the eighteenth everything was shipshape mind you she was handing out the tips right left and centre I just shut my eyes so I wouldn't know how much she was giving away, both of us slaved harder than darky women, everything looks fine now all except the kitchen which is too white makes the place look like a horspital, I don't care for it meself, and another thing, that electric stove isn't much cop for frying on, and you can't turn the heat down low low like you can with gas, and it takes ages to get hot, and then the hotplate stays hot as anything after you've finished with it, no I can't get on with it, but I didn't say anything, he who pays the piper calls the tune like Monsieur Pasteur used to say, the drawing-room the dining-room all very tasty in a plain sort of way, but no ornaments and suchlike, knick-knacks do cheer a place up make it cosy, now his bedroom is all white carpet and white velvet I don't care for that, and the lighting is the kind where you can't see where the bulbs are, and as for that bed of hers it's so low I get backache with bending over when I make it, it's a proper musolino-leum, very showy you could get a couple of camels in it and still have room left, it beats me, the best thing about this place is that everything's on the ground floor, no stairs and that suits my various veins, anyway on the eighteenth, an hour before he was due back Are you comfy in your room at the hotel Mariette she says to me, no shut up now it was her way of leading up to getting me out of the way, Yes says I but being one to speak my mind I says I'd have rather been staying here 'specially 'cos me being there means you've got the hotel bill to pay, Yes but there's no room here she says, I didn't say anything to that but it's not true that there isn't room here, in the first place there's the box-room, and in the second there's the attic which could have been done out very nice except that to get there it's ladder not stairs, Get away with you you two-faced little monkey says I to meself, that's all flummery the truth of the matter is that you don't want me around spying on your secret kissing and canoodling when he gets back, Look Mariette says she he'll be here in half an hour so I'm giving you the rest of the day off, But I don't mind staying says I, so then she says It's a special day we haven't seen each other for two weeks, I could have said And what about the three times you went to see him then but I didn't lower meself, Very well says I, all dignified like, You can have your dinner at the hotel says she, I can't stand throwing money down the drain says I politely, you know how nose-in-the-air I can be, I'll have a bit of cheese on my way out says I, my pride was hurt you see, being turned out like that as if I was some stranger, 'cos in my mind's eye lying in bed at night, as good as the flicks is my bed, I'd been seeing the two of us there on the welcome mat together, me being part of the family in a way, wearing my best, saying Pleased to meet you I'm sure 'cos in fact I had yet to set eyes on her handsome caballero, anyway without more ado I put my hat on the pretty one black with shiny spangles on and tied the string so tight I all but throttled meself, she was taking it all in, then I took my black-pearl handbag with A Present from the Exhibition picked out in white pearl on it, Good-night says I and she must have known what I was getting at 'cos I was that vexed I rushed here all the way from Geneva almost the minute she wired for me to come, quick hat on catch the train which I almost missed, 'cos to my mind you were Family, I bathed and dried her when she was a baby, patting her little baby's botty even giving her a kiss on her little botty-bum-bum which isn't so little any more well you see she didn't treat me like one of the family now, turning me out like a African slave, special day indeed seeing as how they hadn't clapped eyes on each other for a fortnight, you could have seen Sir Gorgeous every day, but oh no Madame had to put on a show, Sir Sensitive mustn't see this, mustn't see that before everything's hunky and dory, and me having brought from Geneva specially for her the best piece I made during my time at the factory, even the boss complimented me on it, an ashtray made out of ceramic paste, very artistic, with a snake coiled all round it looked almost alive and a frog with its mouth open for the ash from the cigarettes, yes dried her and put talcum powder on her morning and night, so to get my own back that night I had dinner in the hotel cafe, a real slap-up do to pay her out, sardines in oil and garlic sausage for first course, and then pig's trotters in breadcrumbs, they had some as it happened, there was cold chicken too but I didn't fancy any, chicken's got no taste, the only nice part of the chicken is the parson's nose, but now that's all blown over I've forgiven her, she gets such la-di-da ideas, you'd never believe, take them two washrooms, she says you gotter call them bathrooms, I always say washrooms 'cos it's where you get washed though you don't always have a bath, that's my story and I'm sticking to it so there, anyway one washroom for him with a connecting door to his bedroom and the other washroom for her done out with all mod cons as they say, but her washroom didn't have a connecting door to her bedroom, and then there was a separate lav, a convenience is what they call it, all white with luxury fittings and tiled so you could almost eat off the floor, but oh no that wasn't good enough for her she must have a special convenience for each of them, so she had one put into each washroom, so if you count the separate one that was there already that nobody uses and the servants' one in the cellar which is for me that makes four conveniences in all, no stop don't make me larf, of course I cottoned on straight away, the lavs in the two washrooms are to make sure the one don't know when the other has gone to spend a penny, or even tuppence, they can think that they've just gone to rinse their hands in the basin or take a dip in the bath seeing as how the noise of the taps drowns out everything else, but that's not all, she had an opening made in the wall and a door put in to connect her room with her washroom where she's got her convenience, it's so she can be even more secret about going to spend a penny 'cos no one will even see her going into her washroom, nobody any the wiser, I'll fox you I can spend a penny behind your back is the idea, now the way I see it there's nothing to be ashamed about in spending a penny, that's how the good Lord made us, even kings and queens go the same as me, my hubby always knew when I was going and it didn't stop us loving each other believe you me, but not her, she keeps it all a state secret and on top of that you know the flush on conveniences well she's had a special de-luxe one fitted that's silent, it's so he can't hear anything, so the romance is kept up, while she was about it she should have had a musical box thing put in singing Star of love and love's sweet light which came on when you pulled the chain, that would have been even more romantic, you've no idea all the work it made, there was three men came all the way from Nice, even worked Sundays, just think how much that cost, I looked the other w
ay so I wouldn't see the tips she gave them to keep them sweet, of course it all took time, making the opening in Madame's wall to put in a door to the washroom, and then the conveniences to install, great big pipes to lay under the tiles on the floor of both washrooms, the Swiss say mosaics but that don't mean the same they don't speak proper French, except my friend the maid I was telling you about, she's ejucated, when she talks it's like music in your ears, and also under the beautiful parky in the hall, and then it all had to be put back straight again, and all that trouble so that his nibs wouldn't know when she's spending a penny, as I was saying every blessed day they put on a beauty parade like they was on the stage or in the pictures, you know paradise-of-love stuff, Your heart stole mine that day of rapture divine, like Monsieur Victor Hugo says in one of his pomes, they say that even when he was eighty he didn't turn his nose up at a bit of the other white whiskers or no white whiskers kept a slip of a girl locked up all to himself, had a weakness for it all his life forever chasing skirts he was, mind you his wife wasn't best pleased she got her own back she played him fast and loose, it's in a book they lent me when I was in the horspital, she knocked about with this other one who did writing too, Monsieur Sainte-Beuve he was called, funny-looking sort, and then they stay in bed all afternoon Having Relations all very hush-hush in that great big bed it's miles wide it's the size of the Place de la Concorde, and they're ever so proper with each other when they talk it's like a bishop having a natter with a cardinal, and they have baths all bally day long, and that's not counting dips in the sea, if the sun's shining they go swimming even though it's wintertime, now speaking for myself I don't care much for the sea, you can't drink it you can't wash in it 'cos you can't get a lather going with it, it don't make suds, oh I don't like it round here, it's all rocks and stones, if it was me I'd call it the Dustiera not the Riviera, and there's mosquitoes everywhere, what's the use of mosquitoes, they were put on this earth to bother folks that's what, and then this wind hear it? it just goes on moaning all the blessed time, it's just like the proverb says when Febbry's calm, there'll be gusts in May, proverbs are always right, it's the wisdom of the ages, I know 'em all, one swallow don't make a summer, north winds do blow and we shall have snow, March in like a lion out like a lamb, red sky at night shepherd's delight red sky in morning shepherd's warning, winter breezes bring coughs and sneezes, if Febbry don't March then April May, ne'er cast a clout till May is out, Christmas warm Easter storm, April showers bring forth the flowers, I know all the other ones as well, I'll tell them to you some other time, haven't the heart for it today 'cos I feel down in the dumps like they say, and then the way them bells keep ringing is getting on my wick, drives me up the wall, I'm going potty in this house they carry on like lovey-dovey dolls, like as if they was acting in a play, only see each other when they're all spruced up, she wrote down all the different rings on the card you see there pinned up over that beggar of an electric stove, three shorts and one long, three longs and one short, two longs, one long, two shorts, if she thinks it's easy telling the difference when you're getting on a bit, there are rings for me and rings for them and sometimes when it's for them I think it's for me and I rush off to see what she wants and then it turns out it wasn't for me after all, there are rings for when Sir Adorable Prince wants her to come and talk but only through the door, there are rings for when she asks if she can move around the place without him seeing her 'cos she's not finished titivating yet, rings for when he answers yes, rings for when he tells her to go to her room 'cos he's got to fetch a book from the drawing-room and isn't what they call presentable seeing as how he hasn't shaved, so then she rings in reply to say yes she'll go to her room, rings for when he wants to let her know he's back in his room and now she can move about even if she does look a fright seeing as how he won't catch sight of her, and every time it rings I jump out of my boots, at first there were times when I had to put my hand in my mouth I got such a fright, what the dickens is going on I thought, the house is full of electric ghosts, but now I'm used to it, it makes me larf, I dance the polka in my kitchen when they start their ringing, you'd think you were in a bell-factory and all the bells were being tested to see if they're working proper, they have rings for when he gets back from his walks, he's a good-looking man no question a real good-looking man, he rings the front doorbell four times so she can scoot off and hide if she hasn't powdered her nose enough, then there's a ring for when she asks if she can come and talk through the door, I mean the door to his room, but without him seeing her 'cos she's not finished making herself beautiful enough, there's a ring for when he says yes, and that means he has to stay shut up a prisoner of love in his cage and keep out of the way sometimes until lunch-time while Madame goes round giving orders in a white overall you'd think she was a nurse in a horspital, oh I'd hate to die in horspital, they're so unfeeling don't care about folk they think they're better than you are 'cos they aren't ill but just you wait your turn will come, and then sometimes she clarts her face up with what they call a mask, to make her look pretty, it scares me when I see her walking around with that stuff on her face not talking, looks like mud the same colour as the battleships you can see from here, I'm against war, all it does is make a lot of folk unhappy on both sides, and the big noises just stay put and shout to the young ones Come on lads show 'em what you're made of you gotter lay down your lives for your country that's the spirit, you gotter be heroes and fight for your country we'll give you a lovely grave with a bit of a flambo on top from a gas ring that never goes out not that it'll do you much good but us big noises will just snuggle down here in our comfy billets, and then there's three longs for when she calls me to do her room, but she stays in it in case she's seen by Sir Charlie Darling 'cos he's all shaved and ready and has let her know that he's ready and presentable but she's not presentable seeing as how she's not tarted her face up enough, so three longs, oh and a lot of others that I can never remember, and then if she's got a bit of a cold she won't come out at all if you please so that he won't see her looking a fright and she won't see him again until her cold's passed off, which means me taking her food to her room on a tray so she's a prisoner of love too, and sometimes when the bells aren't working on account of the electricity being off it's Go and ask if it's all right for me to come out, 'cos she won't let herself be seen unless she's properly dolled up, and it's the same thing with him, so then I have to rush around from one to the other like a racehorse skidding and sliding about in my slippers and sometimes I shout gee-up horsey to keep myself going, quick now off you go and tell Madame not to show her face seeing as how Sir Gorgeous has to come out for something, now and then a bit of tripping and sliding does me good, bucks me up no end, but then poor ole Mariette's got to go scurrying off to tell Sir Handsome righty-oh Madame won't come out now but would Sir Handsome let her know when she can 'cos Madame has got to go to Cannes to do some shopping and mind you tell him she's very sorry it's urgent and don't forget to say very sorry, 'cos that's how it is with them polite as kings at court they are, in the mornings it's all toing and froing, like in the animal house at the circus where they raise the cage doors to let the wild creatures in and out, 'cos the lion must never be with the tiger, no hobnobbing between lions and tigers allowed, they're born enemies, oh but sometimes I just gotter larf, one time she had something special to say urgent couldn't wait but neither of them was presentable enough yet seeing as how it was so early in the morning, so she slips on her fetchingest dress and goes into his room backwards to have a hush-hush palaver with him, I don't miss a trick of course I don't let on oh yes I have a squint through the keyhole now and then just to keep abreast, anyway in she reverses and talks with her back to him, that way get it she didn't see him looking a fright and he didn't see her looking a fright, or put it this way he could see her all right but from the back and the back view don't matter like the view from the front, specially the face, but they don't carry on like that very often, only the twice, what it all adds up to you see is that they don't
like it when one of them knows that the other one isn't looking what they call implacable, that means not a hair out of place from head to foot, another time I saw her, through the keyhole again it was, nothing else for it I'm entitled I'm duty-bound to keep an eye open so she don't come to no harm if they was ever to have a tiff besides it's not much fun being here, there's times when I get really low, I feel all alone forgotten by the whole yuman race as they say, well anyway I seen her with this blindfold over her eyes, 'cos she had to talk to him but wasn't allowed to see him, and he was guiding her like she was blind so she could sit down on a chair, she had a blindfold on 'cos this time she was presentable and it was him that wasn't presentable as they call it, so there she was on her chair with this blindfold on looking like a sleepwalker or one of them gyppos you meet in the street and they tell your fortune sometimes what they tell you really happens especially Madame Petroska she's got the gift, but the sight of her there talking so po-faced with a blindfold over her eyes well it was so daft I couldn't stand it no more and had to take myself off to my pantry I was nearly splitting my sides I opened the chute for the kitchen-waste wide and stuck my head in it so I could let it all out in peace without them hearing, p'raps one of these days I'll put a blindfold over my eyes like Madame Petroska so I can't see his nibs, but then how on earth could I see to wax the floor and polish the parky, but that time he was away on his travels she really let her hair down with me in the kitchen, had a good ole plateful of sauerkraut with smoked cutlets sausage salt bacon the lot enjoyed it licked her chops afterwards but said on no account was his lordship to know she'd been eating sauerkraut, and they're always going at it like fighting lobsters in that great bed, I can hear them, a little of what you fancy does you good but you can have too much of a good thing, and the sheets on the big bed I've got to change them two three times a week on washing days there's three of us on with it me and two women who come in, but mark you when it's just the two of us together of a morning she's ever so sweet, we have a laugh real good pals thick as thieves, and with her chattering nineteen to the dozen so you'd think she'd been inoculated with a grammyphone needle, no side with her, but when I wait on the pair of them at table she looks down her nose at me like a princess as if I was just a potato peeling, oh mark my words she's not easy when Mr Tall-and-Curly's about, the other day she went red as a beetroot got up on her high hobby-horse 'cos I'd said while they was having dinner that the plumber had made a rattling good job of her lav, she could have strangled me, and now I haven't to speak when they're having their dinners, not even to tell her we're out of onions, and when I'm serving out I gotter be careful not to cough, and I'm not allowed to wait at table in my slippers, not allowed to say anything about the meat, even if it's overcooked and it's not my fault they was late prob'ly on account of overdoing it in that king-size bed, the upshot being that I gotter have a face like the waiters you see in posh hotels, I put my poker face on before I go into the dining-room I start by closing my mouth tight as if I'm going to a funeral though sometimes I want to laugh fit to bust I get red as a beetroot just as I'm going in through the door and there they are, sat at the table although not five minutes before they were giving the bed-springs a good going-over, at table they're so la-di-da it makes me see red, saying yes please no thank you, talking just like they was two presidents of France, and with her just taking little mouthfuls that are hardly worth bothering with, but in the mornings if we're having our breakfast coffee together she tucks into enough bread and butter and jam to sink a hippopotamouse, and she takes good care to keep the kitchen door shut when she's having her coffee with me 'cos she's dead scared he might see her simpling herself by having breakfast with her ole Mariette who changed her nappies when she was little, and sometimes all of a sudden she rushes in panic-stricken, quick I gotter drop everything and iron one of her silk dresses 'cos them nights-of-passion dresses of hers mustn't be creased they're a bit like blouses but also like tailor-made evening gowns, I'll have to show you, then it's on with the music on the grammyphone it gives me the willies when they shut themselves away in their room to worship love in the temple, but there won't be any kiddies, no fear of that, I know what I'm talking about I keep my eyes skinned, and then when they've finished their goings-on they go to sleep, then they wake up again, and they have baths, they go out for walks and they always wear their best, and then for ole Mariette it's off with you and get that master bedroom tidied up, and sometimes when I collect her dirty smalls I've gotter hide them in my apron for fear the king of kings might come out of his room at the wrong moment and catch sight of her dirty smalls though her smalls are always clean, poor Didi you had your good points after all, and if I go for his nibs's underthings she mustn't ever see any of them before they go into the washing-machine, I can't get on with these newfangled washers you know I liked the old ones better they were straightforward, his nibs's things aren't ever dirty either, mind you I'm not allowed to say dirty underwear to her if he's about or might hear, I mustn't say dirty either, If you must mention the linen she tells me say soiled, and if now and again she gives me a hand about the house, folding sheets or whatever, it's always got to be done on the sly, and when it's not bed it's bath and titivating and the rest of it, and they only use words like you find in books, always so polite and smiling you'd think there was something the matter with them, never a tiff never a pet name, p'raps they'll go on play-acting Great Love Scenes and the rest of the tommy-rot until the pair of them grow white whiskers, now I say it isn't right, it's no sort of life, and for a man it's not healthy, a man's not got a woman's stamina, it's a medical fact, and what I can't forgive is the way she's so nice to me when it's just the two of us, talking about the housework saying how well I cope, how I'm ever so good at keeping the dust down, dust's something you gotter do battle with every blessed day, anyway taking an interest in everything like a lady should, but once Sir Priceless shows his face it's goodbye to all that she looks down her nose at me and puts on her face like a statue, I don't exist, and what really gets me is how they never kiss each other if I'm there, it's as if they was saying You don't count, now I'd thought everything would be quite different, if I wasn't so fond of her I wouldn't stay here another minute, why on earth don't they ever say nice things to each other when I'm there, instead of which they go off serious as bishops for their carryings-on in their musolinoleum, and me forever stuck in the kitchen like in prison while they're playing riddles upstairs in ole Charlemagne's bedroom, and all the time they're in there the grammyphone's blaring so if they do ever have a kiddy he'll be a big opera singer you can take my word for it, and all that blindman's buff carry-on Come in but close your eyes I'm not presentable turn round, if that's love then I want no part of it, why me and my hubby would have rather had to spend a penny together than be parted and that's what real love is say I. Watch out, they're coming.'