The Disappearance of Adèle Bedeau Read Online Free

became impossible to conceal. That was when Gottwald asked her to marry him.
    Anaïs finally died when Manfred was fifteen. She had not left the house for two years and had grown as thin and papery as an old woman. Manfred’s grandfather came to talk to him one evening shortly after the funeral. At a certain age, he explained, a man had to make his own way in the world. Two years later, after Manfred had failed his
baccalauréat
, his grandfather summoned him to his study. This was a room on the first floor of the house which Manfred was normally forbidden to enter. The walls were lined from floor to ceiling with legal volumes and in the centre of the floor was a large antique desk. There was a fireplace, but M. Paliard did not approve of unnecessary heating and even in the depths of winter he refused, as an example to the other members of the household, to light a fire, preferring to sit over his papers bundled in a hat and scarf in a fug of frosted breath and pipe smoke. Manfred was summoned to the study only to discuss matters of grave import.
    Upon entering, Manfred remained standing in the centre of the room for a good five minutes while his grandfather reached the end of the document he was reading. This did not trouble Manfred. It was a matter of indifference to him how his grandfather treated him. M. Paliard removed his reading glasses and indicated with a gesture of his hand that Manfred should sit. He had a long, craggy face, with narrow pale blue eyes set under a heavy forehead. He was almost completely bald and had a wiry grey beard. Manfred had difficulty recalling an occasion on which he had seen him smile.
    â€˜I have spoken to an associate of mine, a Monsieur Jeantet,’ he began without preamble. ‘Jeantet is the manager of SociétéGénérale on Rue de Mulhouse. He has agreed to take you on, which, under the circumstances, is most charitable of him. You begin on Monday and will be paid after two weeks. I suggest you begin looking for an apartment right away. I will loan you the first month’s rent and deposit.’
    At the end of his little speech, M. Paliard did something he had never done before. He rose from his seat and poured two small glasses of sherry from a decanter sitting on a silver tray in the window recess. Manfred had never noticed the decanter there before and wondered if his grandfather had had it brought in specially for the occasion. Not only had Manfred never been invited to share a drink with his grandfather, he had never seen him pour a drink for himself. Normally the maid would be summoned for such tasks. Nevertheless, M. Paliard not only poured the drinks, but handed Manfred’s to him, before resuming his seat. The two men (for the gesture was clearly intended to mark Manfred’s passing into manhood) sipped their sherry in silence. Ten minutes later, M. Paliard stood up to, somewhat awkwardly, indicate that the audience was over.
    The following day, Manfred’s grandmother took him to Mulhouse to be fitted for a suit. As the tailor fussed around with his measuring tape, Mme Paliard insisted, to Manfred’s embarrassment, that the suit should leave some room for growth. Nevertheless, Manfred took some pleasure in the experience. Wearing a suit bestowed gravitas. The image that looked back at him from the tailor’s mirror was not the gauche schoolboy he so despised. Afterwards they went for lunch in a smart bistro. Mme Paliard chatted cheerfully through the meal about what a splendid opportunity his new job was. Manfred knew that in reality she was disappointed in him, but he said nothing to contradict her. They shared a bottle of wine, something they would never have done if Manfred’s grandfather had been present, and at the end of the meal Mme Paliard burst into tears and told Manfred that he must still come to the house for his meals whenever he wished and that his room would always bethere for him. Manfred was fond of his