The old man, as if casually, had gone to wander around his cows. He had even bent down to move one of the stakes and untangle the chain.
‘Papa!’ Françoise called.
She had forgotten that he couldn’t hear her.
‘Félicie! Go and fetch your grandfather back. He’d only have to cross the bridge.’
When he had sprayed all the vine stocks with sulphur, Jean went into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of wine, which he drank standing up at the table.
‘Is that you?’ called Tati.
Every person condemned to …
It was coming back into his head for no reason. And at once he felt more burdened.
‘Has the postman been? He’s usually here by three.’
‘I haven’t seen him.’
‘I thought I heard him. There aren’t any letters on the table? It’s over two weeks since I heard from René. He’s been punished again. Can you bring me a glass of water, Jean? You smell of sulphur. You haven’t got it in your eyes, have you? It will sting all night if you have, and your eyes will be red in the morning.’
‘Do you remember what I told you the other day?’
‘What did you tell me?’
‘When you asked me to tell you about it … Well, there’s one thing that wasn’t true.’
She looked at him anxiously. Why did he have to talk about that, all of a sudden, when she was least expecting it?
‘It was about Zézette. I said, it was because of a woman, and yes, sometimes I believed that. But it wasn’t true. I never loved Zézette. Oh, if it hadn’t been for her, it might have happened differently. Do you understand? But I would have done something else.’
No, she didn’t understand. And what she understood least of all was why he had to hark back to all this ancient history. It was a mild day. He had been working peacefully all day, the way people do in the country, with a pause every now and then to have a drink or look around.
‘Yes, I think I would have done something else. Never mind what. I’d been feeling it must all end somehow. And I was wanting that to happen sooner rather than later. Have you taken your tablet?’
‘Not yet. I didn’t have any water.’
‘Sorry, I’ll go and get some fresh water.’
Alone by the well, he repeated:
‘Something else …’
Eugène, Félicie’s father, must be in the café now, playing cards or perhaps talking about himself, and when he got home, red in the face and staggering, it would be to slurp down his soup and sleep the sleep of a heavy drinker.
Tati had told him about the lock-keeper. It wasn’t in the war that he had lost his leg but in the colonies. He was subject to attacks of malaria. Then he would lock himself in his bedroom for four or five days. From time to time, he could be heard screaming. Sometimes, if his wife opened the door to ask if he wanted anything, he would throw a chair or something else at her head.
‘Leave me alone, for the love of God, or I’ll burn the house down.’
The boatmen knew him. If they didn’t see him, they guessed he was having a bad turn and they worked the gates themselves.
His wife did not complain. She was pregnant. She was always pregnant, even when she was still nursing her last born, and she had a large yellow birthmark covering half of her face like a mask.
‘Why do you keep on thinking about that?’
He gave a start. It wasn’t at all about that that he was thinking. It made him smile.
‘I was thinking about the lock-keeper,’ he said.
‘Why, is he having an attack?’
‘No, I was just thinking about him, no reason.’
‘Are you getting tired of all this?’
‘No … I think it’s about time I brought the cows in. Tomorrow, you’ll have to explain to me what to do to make butter.’
The change from day to dusk had been imperceptible, because of the veil of cloud that had lasted all day. The cows, used to him by now, watched him approach and, as soon as they were free, headed happily towards their shed.
Ah! the rain had stopped. The ground was soft underfoot. He bent down to pull out the stakes and pick up the chains.
He was surprised to hear a voice nearby.
‘Usually they get left there.’
It was Félicie. She had come close, her body weighed down to one side by the child in her arms. Fine drops of rain glistened in her auburn hair. She was not smiling but looked as if she wanted to.
‘Yes, I suppose so,’ he stammered.
