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‘It’s not serious, I’m used to it. Did Mathias tell you?’

‘Just a word or two-that’s a lot for Mathias, you know. What did Leguennec want to know?’

‘It’s not hard to guess. How come a famous singer finds time to talk to someone whose parents were provincial shopkeepers? So what? Sophia’s grandparents looked after goats, like everyone else back in Greece.’

Juliette stopped fussing about behind the counter.

‘To tell the truth,’ she said with a smile, ‘it’s my own fault. Because he was putting on his act of the policeman who doesn’t believe you, I started justifying myself like a child. I said that Sophia had these grand friends in circles I would never move in, but they weren’t the kind of people you could have a nice quiet conversation with. But he went on looking as if he didn’t believe a word.’

‘It’s just their policy.’

‘Perhaps it is, but it works. Because instead of thinking, I started saying really stupid things. I showed him my books, to prove I can read. To show him that all these years of being on my own, I’ve read and read, thousands of pages. So he looked at the bookshelves and he did begin to accept that I might have been a friend of Sophia’s. What a stupid bastard!’

‘Sophia said she hardly ever read anything,’ said Marc.

‘That’s right. And I didn’t know anything about opera. So we exchanged ideas and discussed things up in my study. Sophia was sorry she had missed the boat with reading. I told her that sometimes you read because you’ve missed some other boat. It sounds silly, I know, but there were some evenings when Sophia would sing while I played the piano and others when I would read while she smoked her cigarettes.’ Juliette sighed. ‘The worst thing was that Leguennec went straight off and asked my brother, to see whether by chance all those books belonged to him! As if. Georges only likes doing crosswords. He’s in publishing, but he never reads a word, he looks after distribution. Mind you, he’s pretty good at crosswords. Anyway, there it is: if you keep a café, you don’t have the right to be the friend of Sophia Siméonidis, unless you can prove to them that you’ve torn yourself away from your Normandy farm and brushed all the mud off your boots.’

‘Don’t get worked up,’ said Marc. ‘Leguennec’s getting up everyone’s nose. Can I have a glass of something?’

‘I’ll bring it to your table.’

‘No, on the counter please.’

‘What’s the matter, Marc? Are you upset too?’

‘Not exactly. I want to ask you a favour. You know the little house in your garden?’

‘Yes, the one you saw. It’s nineteenth-century, must have been built for the servants, I suppose.’

‘What’s it like inside? Is it in good condition? Could someone live in it?’

‘Why, d’you want to get away from the others?’

‘Tell me, Juliette, is it habitable?’

‘Yes, it’s properly maintained, it’s furnished. It’s got everything you need, electricity, water and so forth.’

‘Why did you kit it out?’

Juliette bit her lip.

‘Just in case, Marc, just in case. I may not be on my own for ever. You never know. And since my brother lives with me, a little place where one can be on one’s own if necessary… Does that seem silly? Are you laughing?’

‘Not at all,’ said Marc. ‘Have you got anyone in mind for it at the moment?’

‘No, you know I haven’t,’ said Juliette with a shrug. ‘So what is it you want?’

‘I’d like you to offer it to someone else. Tactfully. If you don’t mind. For a small rent.’

‘To you, or Mathias? Or Lucien? The old policeman? Aren’t you getting on with each other?’

‘No, no, it’s not that, we’re fine. It’s Alexandra. She says she can’t go on staying with us. She says she and her son are in our way, that she can’t settle in and I think, most of all, she wants a bit of peace and quiet. She’s started looking for places in the small ads, so I thought…’

‘You don’t want her to go too far away, is that it?’

Marc fiddled with his glass. ‘Mathias says we ought to keep an eye on her. Just until this business has been sorted out. If she could use your cabin, she could be on her own with her son, and at the same time she’d be quite close.’

‘That’s what I mean, close to you.’

‘No, Juliette, you’re wrong. Mathias really thinks it would be best if she’s not left alone.’

‘Well, it’s all the same to me,’ Juliette cut him off briskly. ‘I don’t mind at all if she moves in with the child. If it’s to help you, yes, that’s fine. Anyway she’s Sophia’s niece. It’s the least I could do.’

‘You’re very kind, Juliette.’

Marc kissed her on the forehead.

‘But she doesn’t know?’ asked Juliette.

‘No, of course not.’

‘So how do you know she’ll want to stay near you? Have you thought of that? How are you going to get her to accept?’

Marc looked gloomy. ‘Can I leave it to you? Don’t say it was my idea. You’ll find some good reason.’

‘You’re asking me to do your dirty work?’

‘I’m counting on you. Don’t let her go away somewhere else.’

Marc went back to the table where Lucien and Alexandra were stirring their coffee.

‘He kept on asking where I went last night,’ Alexandra was saying. ‘What’s the point of trying to explain to him that I didn’t even take in the names of the villages. He didn’t believe me, and I don’t care.’

‘Was your father’s father German too?’ Lucien interrupted.

‘Yes, but what has that got to do with anything?’

‘Was he in the Great War? Did he leave any papers or letters or anything?’

‘Lucien, for God’s sake, can’t you control yourself?’ asked Marc. ‘If you must talk, can’t you find some other subject? Try and you’ll see, you might find something else to talk about.’

‘OK,’ said Lucien. ‘Are you going driving again tonight?’ he asked after a pause.

‘No,’ said Alexandra smiling. ‘Leguennec confiscated my car this morning. Pity, because the wind is getting up. I love the wind. It would be a nice night for driving.’

‘I don’t get it,’ said Lucien. ‘Driving round for no reason and going nowhere. Frankly I don’t see the point. Could you keep going all night like that?’

‘All night, I don’t know. I’ve only been doing it for eleven months every now and then. Up to now, I’ve always given up at about three in the morning.’

‘Given up?’

‘Yes. So I come back. Then a week later I start again, I think it’s going to help. But it doesn’t.’

Alexandra shrugged, and pushed her hair back behind her ears. Marc would have liked to do it for her.

XXI

GOODNESS KNOWS HOW JULIETTE MANAGED IT, BUT THE FOLLOWING day, Alexandra moved into the garden house. Marc and Mathias helped to carry her luggage. With the help of this distraction, Alexandra relaxed a bit. Marc, who was knowledgeable about that kind of thing and could easily spot the signs, had been watching the shadows of some secret sorrow reflected in her face. He was glad to see them fade, even if he knew that the respite might only be temporary. During the respite, Alexandra proposed that they say ‘tu’ to each other and that they call her Lex.

Lucien, rolling up his floor rug, to take it back upstairs, muttered that the line-up of forces on the battleground was getting more and more complex. The Western Front had tragically lost one of its major players, leaving only a doubtful husband behind, while the Eastern Front, already reinforced by Mathias in Le Tonneau, was now being augmented by a new ally, accompanied by a child. The new ally had originally been marked out to occupy the Western Front, had temporarily stopped in no-man’s-land and was now deserting it for the eastern trenches.

‘Has the Great War really turned your brain?’ Marc asked, ‘or are you carrying on like this because you’re sorry Alexandra is leaving?’