‘Slim, handsome, with an interesting face. He’s called Armand Duplessis.’
‘It would be a sin not to nickname him “Richelieu”.’
She laughed.
‘A name that’s stick to him all through the school, you wicked Claudine!
But what a savage!
He doesn’t say a word except Yes and No.’
My English mistress seemed adorable that night under the library lamp.
Her cat’s eyes shone pure gold, at once malicious and caressing, and I admired them, not without reminding myself that they were neither kind nor frank nor trustworthy.
But they sparkled so brilliantly in her fresh face and she seemed so utterly at ease in this warm, softly-lit room that I already felt ready to love her so much, so very much, with all my irrational heart.
Yes, I’ve known perfectly well, for a long time, that I have an irrational heart. But knowing it doesn’t stop me in the least.
‘And she, the Redhead – doesn’t she say anything to you these days?’
‘No. She’s even being quite amiable.
I don’t think she’s as annoyed as you think to see us getting on so well together.’
‘Pooh!
You don’t see her eyes.
They’re not as lovely as yours, but they’re more wicked … Pretty little Mademoiselle, what a darling you are!’
She blushed deeply and said, with complete lack of conviction:
‘You’re a little mad, Claudine.
I’m beginning to believe it, I’ve been told so so often!’
‘Yes, I’m quite aware that other people say so, but who cares?
I like being with you. Tell me about your lovers.’
‘I haven’t any!
You know, I think we shall see plenty of the two assistant-masters.
Rabastens strikes me as very “man of the world” and Duplessis will follow in his footsteps.
By the way, did you know that I shall probably get my little sister to come here as a boarder?’
‘I don’t care a fig about your sister.
How old is she?’
‘Your age. A few months younger, just on fifteen.’
‘Is she nice?’
‘Not pretty, as you’ll see.
A bit shy and wild.’
‘Sucks to your sister!
I say, I saw Rabastens in the loft. He came up on purpose.
He’s got a Marseilles accent you could cut with a knife, that hulking Antonin!’
‘Yes, but he’s not too ugly … Come along, Claudine, let’s get down to work.
Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?
Read that and translate it.’
But it was no good her being indignant: work made no progress at all.
I kissed her when we said good-bye.
The next day, during recreation, Anais was in the act of dancing like a maniac in front of me, hoping to reduce me to pulp and keeping a perfectly straight face all the while, when suddenly Rabastens and Duplessis appeared at the playground gate.
As we were there – Marie Belhomme, the lanky Anais, and myself – their lordships bowed and we replied with icy correctness.
They went into the big room where the mistresses were correcting exercise-books and we saw them talking and laughing with them.
At that, I discovered a sudden and urgent need to fetch my hood, which I had left behind on my desk. I burst into the classroom, pushing open the door as if I had no idea that their Lordships might be inside.
Then I stopped, pretending to be confused, in the open doorway.
Mademoiselle Sergent arrested my course with a
‘Control yourself, Claudine’ that would have cracked a water-jug and I tiptoed away like a cat. But I’d had time to see that Mademoiselle Aimee Lanthenay was laughing as she chatted to Duplessis and was setting herself out to charm him.
Just you wait, my hero wrapped in Byronic gloom! Tomorrow or the day after there’ll be a song about you or some cheap puns or some nicknames. That’ll teach you to seduce Mademoiselle Aimee.
But … all right, what is it?
Were they calling me back?
What luck?