Gaëlle smiles. A man who wants her, who’d do anything to have her, even betray his best friend: it’s music to her ears.
“Just calm down now,” she insists, affectionately, reassuringly. “I want you as much as you want me, but here and now it’s crazy… You should have come without him, I told you. You knew this was going to happen…”
However unacceptable all this might be, I have no intention of walking away, or of intervening. I need to know.
“What would I have told Svevo? That I was going to Paris without him? To do what?”
“To be with me, if that isn’t too ridiculous.”
“Do you think I wouldn’t like that, don’t be absurd, it’s just that I’m afraid he suspects… Ever since we arrived he’s been very strange.”
“It’s impossible, trust me. Let me go, he could come in at any moment.”
“You’re killing me, don’t you realize that?”
From Gaëlle’s sighs, I deduce that they’re rubbing themselves against each other again, and that Federico is at the stage when you start to lose control. Anger now gives way to pain.
“You’re going to sleep with me tonight. That’s not up for discussion.” There’s an authority in his voice I hardly recognize.
“I’ll make up an excuse… Tell me your room number, and I’ll come to you.”
Now he’s the one who’s smiling. Just the thought of it makes him as excited as a little boy. There’s no woman as good at exciting men as Gaëlle.
“I’m in Room 510, don’t forget it. Five, like the happiest months of my life, the months I’ve known you. One, because I want to be the only man for you, and zero, because that’s the number of seconds I’m prepared to wait.”
Gaëlle laughs, and the sound echoes in my head like the laughter of witches in fairy stories when you’re a child. I’d like to warn Federico, I’d like to tell him just how pathetic she is, and then kick him in the balls, so I leap forward and grab the doorpost with all the strength left in me, but when I thrust myself outside the toilet, there’s nobody in the washroom. Gaëlle and Federico have vanished.
Again that feeling that my chest is in a vice, the ever more alarming sensation that I can’t control what’s happening. Time is crushing me like an insect. Maybe I’m the only ant in this crowd, the only one who doesn’t know where he’s going.
The entrance, where people were crowding in earlier, has suddenly emptied. The lights come on again, the music is over. Once again I refuse to look at my watch.
“Svevo!”
Gaëlle’s voice surprises me. She’s behind me.
“Where have you been?” Federico asks me as he helps her on with her coat. “We’ve been looking for you all evening. We thought you’d left.”
How different it all seems now, the way they talk to me and look at each other.
“Where did you get to? Do you think it’s right to behave the way you have?”
Gaëlle is in an argumentative mood, she’s even more aggressive now than she was at dinner. She takes me aside. “Answer me, don’t stand there like an idiot! Do you know it was Federico who paid the bill? I hope you’ll pay him back. I don’t understand you, you’re a different person tonight. You should take a look in the mirror, you’re behaving like a moron. Not to mention the way you made me look at dinner… I really don’t know what’s going through your head.”
Her tone is unpleasant, to say the least. I look at her, and for the first time I’m indifferent to her beauty. I’ve never seen her looking so drawn, she doesn’t even seem like the same person any more. She’s a talking, moving shadow, a nasty thought that’s best forgotten. Like the fear of time, of death, and of this night that’s so fast and yet never seems to end.
I want to go back to the hotel, I don’t care if she sleeps in the room next to mine or goes to bed with my best friend. I only want to get out of this hell.
Before getting in the car, I look Federico straight in the eyes. How dare he smile at me? But when I hear him ask me yet again, in that apprehensive, suspicious tone of his, if I’m sure I’m feeling all right, I realize I’m completely indifferent. Let him fuck her, I don’t care. “You’d tell me, wouldn’t you, if something was really wrong?” He comes even closer, as if he’s about to rugby-tackle me, I think he’s asking me to confirm his suspicions.
“Of course I’d tell you, I’m much better now. What about you, though?” I give him a sidelong glance. “What’s the matter? You look tired. I imagine you can’t wait to get back to the hotel, can you?”
He can’t sustain my gaze any more, he doesn’t have the balls. But I don’t say anything more.
Gaëlle is more irritable than ever. “Well? Are we going?”
In this final lightning ride, all I have time to do is ruin the rest of the night for her. “Gaëlle, I’m tired. I hope you don’t mind if we see you home, then take the car.”
“Svevo, what’s got into you tonight?”
I know her, she’s on the verge of a scene.
“I’m sorry, I have a bad headache.”
This certainly wasn’t how she’d imagined our farewell. She was expecting to complain of a headache when we got to the door of my room, and to say something like, “Don’t worry, it’s all right, I’ll call a taxi.” Instead of which, I’m saying loud and clear that I don’t want her tonight. She wasn’t expecting anything as outrageous as that.
“Svevo, I swear I don’t understand you! Do you want to take me home? Do you want my car? What is it you want?”
She’s making an effort to keep calm.
“I’ve just explained, I’m very tired and I’d like to sleep alone. Let’s not make a big song and dance about it, we’ll see you home and for the sake of convenience we’ll keep the car. Tomorrow morning I’ll come and pick you up as soon as I’m awake.”
She doesn’t reply. I know her, she’s angry and she feels humiliated by the thoughtless way I’m treating her. Even supposing she did decide to come back to our hotel, I think I’ve taken away any desire she may have had to sleep with another man. What was that ridiculous business with the room numbers? I’d like to see you knock at his door now, Gaëlle, in the mood you’re in. When a woman like her is rejected, she can’t just shrug it off straight away. I’m not exactly consoled by this, but it was all I could do. When we pull up outside her building, her dismayed expression as she watches us drive away and the image of Federico angrily pressing his foot on the accelerator have a liberating effect on me, and for a moment all my anguish seems to fade.
Once I’m alone in my room, though, it comes back, more insistent than ever, and won’t leave me in peace. I take off my shirt and shoes, then collapse on the bed still wearing my jeans. I try to let my head sink into the pillow, but now that there are no more voices and noises around me, the thoughts come rushing into my mind. All I can do is start counting again: those five words I still have a little trust in.
One, two—
I’m interrupted by a loud knock at the door that makes me jump. Then another one, and yet another, like a violent hammering on my temples.
“Svevo, it’s Federico!”
What does he want at this hour of the night? I don’t have time for belated confessions or requests for forgiveness, I only want to try and relax.
“What’s the matter, Federico?”
The door is flung open and daylight floods the room.
Federico is standing there in front of me, washed and dressed and rested. Once again he stares at me, he wasn’t expecting to find me like this, a soaking wet rag drenched in tiredness.
“I’ve been knocking at your door for ages,” he says. “I was about to call the bellboy. I came to tell you we’re ready to go to lunch.”
It’s day. The light proves it.
I’m mad. The light proves it.