Honeymoon Read Online Free Page B

the alleyways in the old town. I went back to that place in the course of the following years, and walked along the port and the same little streets with Annette, Wetzel and Cavanaugh. I couldn't help it, I couldn't entirely share their lightheartedness and joie de vivre . I was somewhere else, in another summer, more and more distant, and with time the light of that summer underwent a curious transformation: far from fading, like old, over-exposed photos, the contrasts of sun and shade became so accentuated that I recall everything in black and white.
    We walked down the Rue de la Ponche, and when we'd passed the arch we stopped in the square overlooking the Port des Pêcheurs. She pointed to the terrace of a derelict house.
    "My husband and I used to live up there, a very long time ago … You weren't even born …"
    Her pale eyes were still fixed on me, with their absent expression which intimidated me. But she was frowning in the way I had already noticed, which made her look as if she was gently mocking me.
    "How about a little stroll?"
    In the sloping garden at the foot of the Citadelle, we sat down on a bench.
    "Have you parents?"
    "I don't see them any more," I told her.
    "Why not?"
    That frown again. What could I answer? Strange sort of parents, who had always tried to find a boarding school or reformatory where they could get rid of me.
    "When I saw you by the side of the road this morning, I wondered whether you had parents."
    We went back to the port down the Rue de la Citadelle.
    She took my arm because of the sloping road. The contact of her arm and shoulder gave me an impression I had never yet had, that of finding myself under someone's protection. She would be the first person who could help me. I felt lightheaded. All those waves of tenderness that she communicated to me through the simple contact of her arm, and the pale blue look she gave me from time to time – I didn't know that such things could happen, in life.
    •
    We had come back to the bungalow along the beach. We were sitting in the deck chairs. Night had fallen, and the light from the bungalow was shining on us through one of the glass doors.
    "A game of cards?" he said. "But you don't seem all that keen on such activities …"
    "Did we play cards at his age?"
    She called him to witness, and he smiled.
    "We didn't have time to play cards."
    He had said this in a low voice, for himself alone, and I would have been curious to know what they had done for a living at that time.
    "You can stay the night here, if you have nowhere else to go," she said.
    I was ashamed at the idea that they took me for a tramp.
    "Thank you … I'd like to, if it's not too much of an imposition …"
    It was difficult to say, and I dug my nails into the palms of my hands to give myself courage. But the worst thing still remained to be confessed:
    "I've got to go back to Paris tomorrow. Unfortunately, all my remaining money was stolen."
    Rather than hang my head, I looked her straight in the eyes, waiting for her verdict. Once again, she frowned.
    "And that bothers you?"
    "Don't worry," he said. "We'll find you a seat on the train tomorrow."
    Above us, behind the pines, the villa and its swimming pool were lit up, and I could see silhouettes gliding over the blue mosaic.
    "They have parties every night," he said. "They stop us sleeping. That's why we're looking for another house."
    He suddenly looked worn out.
    "At the beginning, they were always inviting us to their parties," she said. "So we used to turn out all the lights in the bungalow and pretend we weren't there."
    "We'd sit in the dark. One evening they came down to fetch us. We took refuge under the pines, over there …"
    Why were they adopting this confidential, or even confessional tone with me, as if they were trying to justify themselves?
    "Do you know them?" I asked.
    "Yes, yes, a little," he said. "But we don't want to see them …"
    "We've become savages," she said.
    Voices were approaching. A little