A ROMANCE IN CANNES

Chapter 2

I got up from my seat and gave my roommate a look that his timing was rotten. I apologised to Adrien and took a few steps with Alex towards the bar.

“What is happening? Don’t tell me you decided to come and get me because you didn’t like his face or something?”

“Hey! It only happened once, and he looked like Ted Bundy!”

“If you don’t stop watching serial killer documentaries, you’ll see evil everywhere.”

“I didn’t ask you to come to talk about my hobbies. We need to take care of your grandfather.”

“What else has he done?”

“Not much except chaining glasses, and then I think it’s time for him to leave. I’m not sure he’s able to stand on his own, even though he says otherwise.”

“Wasn’t Maurice supposed to bring him back?”

“Yes, but he had to leave for some reason. I’d offer to do it, but I’m short-handed tonight. I have to close up. Is there someone I can call? Your father? Vincent? To pick him up.”

I let out a sigh of exasperation.

“Never mind. I’ll take him back.”

“But...I didn’t want to…”

“Let it go. I said I'd take care of it, no need to bother anyone else. I’m here. I might as well take advantage of it.”

I walked over to my grandfather. Someone who didn’t know him would have thought he was in great shape and, above all, in full capacity. But I knew that wasn’t the case, his eyes were a little too bright and he looked a little too playful.

“Danielle! Have you been well since we last spoke?”

I didn’t bother to answer.

“Come on, Papet, grab your jacket, it’s time to go to bed.”

“Why? I’m having fun! And you, Danielle? Is the young man who dined with you friendly? I have the impression that it’s going well between you two.”

Yes, until I had to drive my drunk grandfather home.

I finally convinced him to follow me. Alex was right, he wasn’t very stable on his legs, so Adrien came to lend me a hand to take him to my car. We said goodbye with Papet’s comments in the background – I should have silenced him – and Adrien promised to call me. We both knew he wouldn’t.

Once home, I dragged Papet’s carcass to his bed. Mamée lectured him on drinking when he had had health problems not so long ago. I left them to their argument, which was their way of communicating, and returned to my apartment on the floor above, alone.

The next morning, I hung out in front of the TV in my pyjamas. It was Saturday. I was off, which was quite rare on this day which corresponded to the weekend for many people. Working in the hotel industry as a general housekeeper, I was more used to being at work when the others were at home.

Alex wasn’t awake yet. He too had staggered hours compared to the rest of the population. Besides, we sometimes spend several days without seeing each other. I started very early in the morning, around six o’clock, and he would go to work when I got home, at the end of the afternoon. He had to finish late the day before because the bar was full like every Friday evening.

I was comatose in front of a rerun of episodes of Friends, laughing at Monica’s fits of mania – which wasn’t likely to happen to me, the eternal mess – when my phone emitted the characteristic beep notifying the arrival of a new email. I didn’t pay any attention to it at first. I thought it was a promotional campaign from one of the many stores where I had to give my email address in exchange for a loyalty card. During the commercial break, however, I decided to take a look at it, at least to erase it without bothering to open it.

But when I read the sender’s name, my finger stops on its way to the trash can icon.

I blinked, thinking for a moment that I hadn’t seen well. But no, nothing had changed.

Georges.

So he still had my address?

In truth, why would he erase it? Who cleans up their email contacts? Certainly not me. If I searched my address book, I would probably find contacts dating back to when people still asked the question: Do you have the Internet at home?

It had to be one of those messages to send to all his contact list under pain of atrocious karmic retaliation if it wasn’t done. And so, I found myself in the loop without him noticing. By the way, the subject of the email was “ Hello”. In other words, not personalised at all.

I was still curious to know what was the reason that pushed him to pollute all the contacts in his e-mail directory, including me. The promise of greenbacks from the bank account of a generous, wealthy donor who fears for his life – no, who really believes that? A little game to do with the first letter of your first name, your month of birth, your security number and your body mass index to know whether or not you’ll meet your soul mate? It’s surprising to see what people are ready to relay without even hesitating for a second.

With a flick of my index finger, I put an end to my rantings and, a moment later, I discovered that, contrary to what I thought, I was the only recipient.

Dear Danielle,

I hope you are well. Could you call me back as soon as you get this message?

Kisses.

Georges

A simple mobile number ended the e-mail. I reread the twenty-one words in it several times. Yes, I had even counted them. Because this message may seem banal to you but, for me, it was not.

Because it was the first I had received from him in several years. But also because I didn’t understand what it meant. I then stared at these few lines, as if in the hope of seeing the explanation of the text that would go with them suddenly appear there. I analyse the tone, each word chosen. The way he had attached my first name to “dear”. The “ kisses” that preceded his. I dissected each element to try to gauge the content. I knew it had only taken him a few seconds to type those sentences. But had he hesitated? Had he thought about it before sending them to me? Had he wondered how he was going to contact me? Had he written something else to erase it later? And, finally, had he wanted to call me and had he been hesitant, for fear that I wouldn’t want to speak to him?

But above all, why now?

Suddenly, my brain was in full swing, a feeling of unease came over me. That was definitely what annoyed me the most. I thought I couldn’t be reached anymore. However, a few lines and twenty-one words were enough to prove me wrong. The worst part of it all was that I didn’t know what to do. Key in the digits composing his number? Or, on the contrary, act as if I had never received this message? But I was aware that the second option wasn’t possible. I wouldn’t be able to forget this email so quickly. It would come to haunt me in the next few hours, the next few days. Still, I blamed myself for even considering the idea of calling him. What did that say about me? That I had no will? That I was weak? How stupid I was, probably!

“What are you doing?”

I jumped like a child caught on the verge of making a big mistake. By the way, my phone slipped out of my hands and crashed on the carpet. Alex, who was the one who surprised me, bent down to pick it up, laughing.

“Hey! I didn’t mean to scare you. What’s happening?”

“I didn’t expect you to suddenly show up like this in the living room,” I said, making a big gesture to illustrate my point.

He raised an eyebrow, amused.

“Why? Don’t you have a clear conscience?”

I didn’t answer, and that was my mistake. Alex immediately suspected that my silence was hiding something and that my phone contained a compromising detail.

He pressed the button that turned on the screen, and I saw the exact moment he realised what he was reading.

“Hey! Give it back to me right away! It’s not your business!”

He took a step away, not wanting me to snatch the device from his hands.

“Why is he texting you?” he asked after a few moments.

All traces of hilarity had disappeared and I would even say that a small flame of concern had appeared in his eyes.

I shrugged.

“How do I know? You can see that it’s pretty vague.”

“Have you contacted him yet?”

“No!” I exclaimed. “And then, first of all, what does it matter to you?”

“Danielle…”

“I just told you that I have no idea what he wants! This is the first message I’ve received since… I don’t know! For ages! I don’t even know if I’ll call him back. Probably not. So forget what you read and make yourself useful by getting me something to snack on. I’m starving!”

I had no desire to eat anything, but it was the only idea I had to change the subject of conversation.

“I…”

He sighed.

“I don’t want to get involved in anything that’s none of my business, Danielle, but I’m just worried about you. I was there and I…”

“You don’t have to worry, I’m not the same as before. And, if it makes you feel any better, just delete his email.”

It cost me to make such a decision but I had to admit that, at least, if he did, I wouldn’t have any more questions to ask myself.

Alexandre stared at me for a moment, as if to ask me if I was sure of this. I nodded and saw him tapping on the screen. He then handed me the phone. My inbox is now empty. I suppressed a twinge in my heart, it was for the best.

“Well, what does Miss want to eat?”

“You know what? I think it’s time for me to get off this sofa before it’s completely moulded to my curves. I’m going to cook something. Does that suit you?”

“You ask me if it suits me? You’re, like, the best cook I know!”

“Don’t tell my mother that, otherwise you won’t be invited over next time.”

My roommate, Alexandre, had been adopted by my family and, as such, participated in our many meals organised at each other’s homes, or in the garden when the weather permitted.

I migrate to the kitchen and Alex follows me. He settled on a barstool and, while I explored the fridge, said:

“It’s good that we’re both together this morning. I had to talk to you about something.”

“Yup,” I replied, slamming the refrigerator door with my ass, hands laden with vegetables.

“I came to tell you that I’m going.”

“Why are you quoting Gainsbourg early in the morning?” I wondered.

“Because, even though you’re a great cook, I’m going to leave in a few days or weeks. I don’t know yet.”

Those words hit me like an icy shower, and I instantly lost all joking.

“Is it because I’m too messy?” I said, fearing that he would confirm this hypothesis.

“No, not at all,” he replied, laughing. “Stephanie and I, we decided I should move in.”

Stephanie was my roommate’s girlfriend. I didn’t know her very well, but they had been seeing each other for a good year. I suspected that the day when he would leave me to join her would arrive, but in my head, it wasn’t yet relevant.

“Well, congratulations! I’m happy for you,” I finally confessed. The moment of surprise passed.

“Thank you, I’m taking you by surprise, and I think it might take you a little while to find another roommate, so I thought that I could, in the meantime, continue to pay you the rent and…”

“Of course not! You know I don’t need it. The apartment belongs to me and my family. If I suggested that you move in after Cali left, it was more so that you didn’t have to live alone than anything else, and then because it suited you too. But don’t worry about me, I’ll appreciate getting rid of you. At least I can start walking around in panties in my living room again!”

I punctuate my sentence with a wink to show him that I took this news with good humour.

To tell the truth, I hadn’t realised, when I had proposed he move in, that indeed living with a man with whom one only maintains a friendly relationship had some disadvantages, like the one I had just mentioned. I wasn’t a naturist either, or anything like that, but not being able to walk around the apartment in my underwear, and having to put away my tampon packs got on my nerves at times.

“I’m sorry to hear that I missed such a show. You didn’t have to warn me, I can easily accept that you walked around undressed in front of me at home,” he said in a flirtatious tone, leaning over the counter.

“p*****t!” I exclaimed, slapping him on the hand. “What would your fiancee say if she heard you?”

“She’s not my fiancee. Well, not yet,” he added a little lower, avoiding me with his eyes.

I opened my mouth, amazed at what I had just understood.

“Are you planning on proposing?”

He grabbed a cloth and began to wipe an imaginary stain on the counter.

“Let’s say I thought about it…”

“And?” I insisted, sensing that there was something else.

“And…I also bought a ring,” he confessed.

“Oh my God!”

I jumped up and walked around the counter. Alex watches me with an amused look, then is surprised when I surround him with my arms.

“Congratulations! I’m so happy for you!”

He burst out laughing.

“Danielle, you know she hasn’t said yes yet?”

“But of course, she’s going to say yes, big simpleton! It’s obvious!”

“I hope you’re right.”

“But of course! Haven’t you known for a long time that I’m always right? Well, you’re leaving me then… I guess my tears couldn’t change that?”

He shook his head.

“Well, well, get out a bottle of wine and let’s toast when you leave!”

I was happy for him. Alex was one of my oldest friends, and seeing him reach a milestone in his life was wonderful.

So why did I also have a bitter feeling inside?