The days passed — or more precisely the nights — with identical monotony: the scene as repeated, more or less, in the same terms. Every day, after the rehearsing of different ritual words, always with the same end in mind, in the room next door, I’d hear a pair of shoes of a different weight and shape drop on the floor. Unity doesn’t exist in the world of shoes: it’s a real shame. In the meantime, my friends introduced me to the mademoiselle. She was charming, with a very broad vision of the world, great energy and — at least on the surface — in wonderful health. In the short initial conversation, of polite niceties, I heard the word mentioned: twenty-ninth. I got it immediately. My friends Tàpies and Niubó — who were present at the exchange — tittered. A few days after, when I bumped into her in the small lounge by the dining room, I noted that she alluded once again to the aforementioned number. What did it all mean? I began to float on air. In any case, I should add, so that the state of play of my feelings is clear, that I was still in doubt to the very last minute. I should also say that, left to my own devices, I would still be in doubt. The ice was broken, when the day came, by the mademoiselle herself who knocked discreetly on the wall with her knuckles.
My shoes dropped as well.
The day after, I was rather weary. In keeping with local customs, I invited my compatriots to a whisky. It’s a splendid drink when one is tired. If one doesn’t drink in excess, it’s a positive tonic favoring the restoration of one’s mental lucidity. Brightened by the alcohol, I made a little — quite insignificant — speech for their benefit, a speech that didn’t lead to the outcome I was hoping for.
“Dear Niubó, dear Tàpies, there’s no denying that this is a most pleasant place to stay. It is certainly a puritanical establishment; nevertheless, if one keeps to specific rules in terms of tact, one soon discovers that the same spontaneous harmony reigns here that great minds have found in nature. There is a very reasonable ambience. The young lady you made out to be a terrible person seems to be generosity incarnate. She manages her female charms in a gentle, silent manner. She is admirably suited to the scope offered by the household. I reckon it would be all wrong to preserve its routines, and, if at all possible, perfect them. This establishment has pleasant ceilings … Not that I’m in favor of making reality over-perfect; I believe that one shouldn’t tamper with things that are working. What I mean, when I speak of perfecting things, is that perhaps it would be best not to touch anything, to leave everything as it is at the moment …”
When I reached this point, I stopped because I felt that neither Tàpies nor Niubó shared my moderate opinions. Niubó was nervously making balls with breadcrumbs with the tips of his fingers. Tàpies’s blank eyes were glancing absentmindedly at the ceiling. He was visibly most upset by my state of mind, even indignant. I have always admired young people when they are being cautious — although it’s only a surface reaction or even quite inauthentic. At the same time, I have always believed that caution can be compatible with good manners and civility.
I realized at once — for God’s sake! — that his aloofness didn’t reflect a rude, momentary, superficial state of mind that was happy to express itself in a gauche silence; on the contrary, I realized that his aloofness was for real and deeply felt.
What had made him like that?
I can only say one thing: things worsened as days went by.
I have never been one for not saying things straight. That’s hardly surprising, if reality is the only productive vein I can mine. Being next-door neighbors created a relationship of friendship between myself and that young lady — and it translated, as usually happens between friends, into copious dialogues. Unfortunately this situation upset my friends. Both Niubó and Tàpies stated that there had been an exchange of keys of the respective bedrooms; however, this was only true metaphorically speaking. It would have been contrary to the very essence of the country that was lodging us with such hospitality and so few hassles. There are countries — and this is one of them — where everything is forgiven, providing certain customs are maintained. Correct behavior is almost always about not transforming one’s woes into noise or fallout that jars on the ear or touch of others. To be true, our bedrooms weren’t in the center, were far from the to-ing and fro-ing, at the bottom of the passage. This situation would appear to strengthen all the hypotheses about clandestine activity. In any case, I don’t recall the boarding houses of London seething at night — something I couldn’t say of other countries — with ghosts in pajamas down passageways and in dark corners clutching a dying match — a match that would burn the tips of your fingers as soon as you made a silent effort to rekindle it. No, I don’t recall ever seeing anyone performing this ghostly role in England.
The friendship I established with the mademoiselle didn’t wreak havoc with the house’s set routines. Everything continued as before. Like the others, I shared in her generosity. The only difference was that, as I had more idle time by virtue of my work, I had more time to talk to her. I have always liked countries in the north, because they seem ready-made, given their climate, for the exercise of sociability, for talking to people in some sheltered spot. This dismayed my friends. Their brows knitted. When we met in the passage or on the stairs, they glared crossly at me. We still had lunch at the same table, but rarely spoke. One chewed reading the paper or staring at the ceiling. It was pathetic and ridiculous.
Mademoiselle Claudette told me that one day Tàpies told Niubó: “Niubó, I feel so nostalgic! I feel more nostalgic than at any other time in my life.”
“I do too, Tàpies! But what can you do?”
“I feel desperate when I hear you talk with such resignation about these things.”
“So how would you like me to talk? You say you feel nostalgic. I do too. In any case, you are at an advantage. You have some thing, you’ve got money … If I were in your position, I could do so much!”
“What do you mean, Niubó? What would you do?”
“When you’ve got money, you can do so many things! If you don’t understand that, it’s because you’re acting the fool.”
“Chapter and verse! Niubó, what would you do if you were in my position? And don’t wander off the point …”
Niubó wiped the back of his neck.
“I am sure that, if you were in my situation,” said Tàpies staring at him, “you would get married. What do you bet that was what you wanted to say?”
“That’s one solution, of course! We’re getting on in years now. At our age, if you have something stashed away, marriage is one thing to do.”
“Yes, we’re beginning to age, and every day we feel a little more nostalgic. But marriage, marriage … What does that mean? Who do you want to marry me off to? You must see it’s not that easy.”
“Obviously not! We’re no longer the age to chase after the young things! That would be laughable. They’d pull our legs. But even so, what would you do?”
Niubó plucked up his courage again and asked him, “Don’t you like the Belgian girl?”
“Good God, what a question! With the kind of life she leads! Have you got a screw loose?”
“I tell you that girl is really bright. I’ve heard excellent things of her. It’s a pity: she earns real money …”
“What does she do?”
“She works for Barclays! She’s the secretary of some plutocrat, if I’m not mistaken.”
“Ah! I see now …!” and, after a pause, “But, for God’s sake, Niubó. Just think for a moment. Given this lady’s, shall we say, track record, how on earth could I …?”
“Bah, bah …! You’re too touchy! You’re like a real country bumpkin. When you’ve traveled the world a bit, these things don’t matter so much … Can’t you see that? Forget it, my friend … We’ve been on this earth too long for you to start suggesting such child’s play …”