I'm Still Here (Je Suis Là) Read Online Free Page B

alone which finger.
    â€œAren’t you going to tell her what it looks like?” My stranger’s interruption seems to surprise everyone. “I mean, I don’t know,” he continues. “But if you’re going to speak to her, you might as well tell her everything, don’t you think?”
    The silence lasts for several moments.
    â€œYou can do the honors,” Steve mumbles, as though he wishes he had thought of it himself.
    â€œUh…”
    â€œGo on. You’re right!”
    â€œWell… OK.”
    My visitor comes closer. “Well, it’s silver.”
    â€œIt’s white gold,” Steve corrects him.
    â€œOh, sorry. I don’t know the difference.”
    â€œIt’s more durable.”
    â€œOK. So, it’s white gold. They chose it because it’s more durable, so if you bash it with your… ice axe, it’ll still be fine.”
    I’d like to laugh, or at least smile at his little climbing reference.
    â€œThere are two intertwining strands, which go all the way around. Sort of like vines. Or maybe like the stalk of a flower. Ah! Or like a jasmine flower, because you seem to like the smell.”
    I’m amazed. How on earth does he know that?
    â€œHow do you know that?”
    Thanks, Steve.
    â€œIt smells of jasmine all over this room. And it comes from her.”
    â€œAre you a perfume expert or something?”
    â€œNo, I’m an ecologist—no connection. Shall I carry on?”
    â€œSure.”
    I realize that I’m impatient to hear what’s coming next.
    â€œIt shines. And it looks very pretty. And it’s on your right ring finger.”
    I’m a bit disappointed. I almost want Steve to interrupt him again.
    â€œApart from that, the cake is pear,” he continues, “and Rebecca was lying, she put thirty-one candles on it, just to annoy you, and I can tell that you’ve got some true friends here, for coming to celebrate your birthday with you even after you’ve abandoned them for almost five months.”
    At this, the silence turns heavy. For a minute I’m frightened that my hearing has gone. But the sound of the raindrops tapping on the window reassures me. I hear someone blow their nose. I think it’s Rebecca. I imagine Alex putting his arms around her. Everyone is looking for something to do to dissipate the sadness which must have invaded the room. Pieces of cake circulate, spoons hit against the paper plates.
    â€œCan you tell us more about you?” asks Rebecca after a moment.
    â€œWhat do you want to know?” replies my visitor.
    â€œYou could start by introducing yourself, perhaps. We only know how you got here. I’m curious to know more about a person who can learn so much about someone they don’t know in less than five minutes.”
    â€œMy name is Thibault. I’m thirty-four. And I’m supposed to be with my brother who’s had a car accident.”
    â€œOh gosh, I hope it wasn’t too serious,” says Rebecca.
    â€œIt was. He’ll get better, but I’d prefer it if he didn’t, to be honest. He killed two teenagers in the accident, because he was drunk. I don’t really ever want to see him again.”
    â€œAh.”
    The silence returns. I reflect on what I’ve just heard. I’m getting more of an idea about my stranger, but there are still some vital details missing. Unfortunately I doubt that any of my friends will ask him to describe himself to me.
    Thibault. I must remember that name.
    â€œHow did she get here?” he asks suddenly. “Aside from the ‘glacial mountaineering,’ I mean.”
    Steve gets up. He paces up and down the room and tells the part of the story that I already know. I listen carefully to what follows, from the moment they found me. I learn an important new detail: I was helicoptered out. What a shame—I’ve always dreamed of a helicopter ride over that glacier and