"O you are funny."
"You have a tache de naissance on the neck Alphonsine."
"I think your eyes are very busy Monsieur."
"Come over here."
"No."
"Why."
"I must not. I must go away. Back to Paris. I am not happy to do so when your home is like this now. But it would not be proper to stay."
"Don't go."
"I must. It will be goodbye. It is sad too. I have liked it here. Sometimes I feel to go to Paris is like a grave. All the way from Calais looks like graves. The eyes of everyone are like lizards. But then when I am at last in Paris I go speeding in Jacques' car and we are gay."
"Is Jacques hairy."
"O la la. Jacques has not a hair. A little of course on the leg. And where he should have hair. On his chest he has a gold cross. With Christ. A tattoo. It looks how do you say, high style."
"Is he a good driver."
"Ha. Magnificent. We go so fast like a shot across Paris. Honking his horn. The tires squeal. His car is big, others get quickly out of the way. He is always the master. We will make such a good husband and wife together. We would not be perhaps too rich. We would not have all the things but what does it matter, we would have enough."
"Is Jacques very strong."
"O la la. What a question. Strong. How do you say, like the reptile with the constriction. He wrap around and squeeze like so. He makes the shoelace of me."
"He might squeeze out your life."
"Ah he leaves just a little so that I will recover."
"Jacques sounds so musculaire."
"You are being naughty I think. But of course I tell you many times already he is musculaire. In the bathing costume he is superb. Bump bump bump it go over the stomach."
"Does he put dressing on his hair."
"A little perhaps. Otherwise he is so very casual. He likes the tight trouser. Like a glove over the hip. Sometimes he hangs the open shirt outside. When he goes in the evening to the cafe. He say hello hello to all his friends. He laughs. He pushes away the others from the pinball machine who make a low score. He waves away the praise over his shoulder as he makes a high score. He never tilt the machine. He move the hip just so and his shoulder just so and makes the ball go in the skill hole."
"Does Jacques ever look awful when he gets up in the morning."
"Never. He is refreshed. Touches the toes, one two, one two. It is so beautiful when he shaves. He pats the toilet water over his face. Women they all turn the head when he goes by. I save all my money to buy my swimming costume and it is very extravagant but that is why. To feel confident and when Jacques looks at me and I feel he is proud. He does not notice then the other women."
"I had a big car once. Perhaps I could have won a race with Jacques."
"O never. You would not stand a chance."
"O dear, have some more brandy. I feel a need of champagne.' "A little. Tiny bit."
"Why wouldn't I have a chance with Jacques."
"He drives fast. Wears the sunglasses of course. It is so funny. We come to the stop light. The cars they are there waiting to start. Bumper and bumper like so. They are even, at the line. The drivers they look at each other, like down the nose from the engine to the wheels and they think ah monsieur will be left in the dust. At Jacques, they think, ha not much that car. Ah but Jacques he does not bother to look. He look straight ahead, he know what will happen. His hand is ready to steer, so relaxed like it would hold a cigarette, so bored he is. And his foot is ready on the accelerator. Tap tap it goes with impatience. For he know what is to happen. Inside himself he laughs as they look at him. The lights change, he is so bored, he gives them a second to get away. Then only for a moment he allow himself ah just a tiny smile. He is bored. Completely he is bored. He press the accelerator to the floor. One arm is across the back of the seat holding the cigarette. He give the ash a flick. And zoom we are going. A little smoke rise from the wheels on the street. The others they are thinking with a smile that he has been left standing. Then it is so funny as Jacques comes like a bird, he go by to leave them in the fume. And he puts the cigarette to the lips, he raises the one eyebrow. He sends out the little puff of smoke from the nose. And he is yawning. And that is that. He is of course so absolutely bored with his speed.' "Jacques is a winner. But Alphonsine it is I who bring home the onions. Jacques would be bored being so fast he would not bother.' "Ah yes, you are sweet."
"But how has Jacques become so formidable."
"He was born a winner. He works hard. When you are asleep, he has already worked half a day. His father, his brothers, the sister, they too are at work. He has but time for a quick cup of coffee in the morning. When you are only having your bath at eleven, with the pine scent. And you are on the bed till twelve in the towels.7 "You have spied on me."
"Only a little. You have spied on me through the keyhole.' "Only a little. What would Jacques do if he knew.' "O he would kill you. First like so, to the jaw. Then he would come with the uppercut. He is fast like a cat.' "Ah Alphonsine let us toast my death at the hands of Jacques.' "I have had so much already.' "We both need just a little more I think. Even Christ on the cross on Jacques' chest would join us tonight. But if Jacques were here he might kill me, slowly perhaps."
"It would not be bad, it would be over at once. But to try to make a fight, ah another thing it would be. It would be an abattoir for you. It makes me laugh to think. You and Jacques. So funny. Snap would go your head. Jacques then would come in with the chop. Chop chop. With the downward motion. Whoops, like a chicken who lose the head. O it would be funny. Like the tiger he would fight. He has machines for the hand to squeeze, in and out like that, one two, one two. To make the hand strong. In his underwear I see him. It is tight. The belly like little mountains."
"O dear, I am not musculaire."
"You are distinguished. Jacques is not distinguished. But I have enough distinguishness for the two of us. We do not worry who is your family. Where is your chateau. Who is your uncle. Your tailor. How is your accent. The English they are like parrots. The women squawk. So nervous. They do not get enough love. It is very sad. They go to Italy and they have it up the backside. I do not think that is satisfactory. It make the accent go high. It hurt the arse too. I am high. O la la, what am I saying. I have far too much to drink."
"Alphonsine may I just say it's good to listen to you."
"You are so flattering to me. Jacques does not flatter. He commands. Like a matador. But brave like the bull. When he comes and it is time to take me. I lie there on the bed. He is there, only in his brief. I but wait."
Crackling fire. Snapping of embers and the licking light across the room. Two photographs of Trinity, taken from my window in the square, hanging there against the oak panelling. A rainy day it was then. And wheels go by on a wet street now. Got my onions in before the rain. Pull the drapes closed on the window. Alphonsine sits back on the leather cushioned chair, feet tucked up, shoes off, in her tight grey slacks. Mil-licent said she probably looks like a cow when first she wrote. And I knew she didn't. From her handwriting. Her strokes so light and tentative. A strange little love grew up the moment I saw the way she crossed her t's and made the capital letter I. This blue delicate trembling vein on her ankle. Brought her here with her two large brown leather bags. We hardly talked all the way in the taxi. She spoke English and I answered in French. She wore a man's watch on her wrist. Her eyes were smiling so gleaming and shy. They somehow reach into one's life and touch it gently. I carried her bags up and she said her room was very pretty. At night Millicent put instructions written out and posted on the wall in the kitchen. Under au pair. And others under cook. After Boats left. And I would take them down. But once Alphonsine saw it when she came to make cocoa and blushed all over her cheeks. She could hardly speak and swallowed a lump down her throat. I said to Millicent you are never to do that again. She said why not she's French.