And Then Came Paulette (10 page)

Hortense had been bedridden since their arrival at the farm. The cold went to her chest and she had difficulty breathing. Gérard had called in the day before, and said that if there was no improvement in the next forty-eight hours she would need to be admitted to the hospital. In the meantime he prescribed a course of treatment, with injections morning and evening. They would have to get the nurse to come out or manage themselves. It wasn't rocket science. Before leaving, he wanted to be clear: even if there was an improvement, they shouldn't have any illusions, it would only be temporary. Hortense's heart was old and tired.

What with nursing Hortense, the new house and all these upheavals, Simone was like a cat on a hot tin roof. That morning Guy offered to give the first injection. Simone warned him that Hortense might very well send him packing. When it came to pain she was a real wimp, she couldn't stand needles. And of course things didn't go well. Hortense began by crying, then she wanted to do a deal, and very soon started to insult him. When finally he approached her with the syringe, she tried to hit him. He inserted the needle as best he could,
as best as he knew how. She called for Simone to help, begged her not to leave her alone with this cowardly monster, who was trying to bump her off. A few minutes later the hematoma caused by the injection had spread to her whole leg. Simone went berserk, calling Guy a psychopath.

In a sulk, he decided to leave the others to sort out the two women and instead concentrate on working out a schedule. He carefully cross-ruled a sheet of paper, with columns for the times when Hortense had her medication and temperature taken. And he decided to call it
Organigran
, not a very pretty title but it was his little revenge and it made him chuckle. Meanwhile Ferdinand was making tea and coffee for breakfast, wondering if they had messed up when they decided to bring these two old women here. It was a huge responsibility; he hadn't foreseen all the health problems. He was kicking himself.

The atmosphere was tense. They pondered the problem as they sipped their tea and coffee. The two cats and the dog realized that now was not the right time to beg for scraps from breakfast. They lay quietly by the stove. The two cats watched the rain falling through the windows, while Berthe yawned and flopped down on the tiled floor, before falling into a light sleep. She dreamed it was summer and she was walking outside. The weather was hot. Suddenly she saw something moving in the distance, over in the long grass, she started to run, and panting, let out a groan.

Mo-je was irritated by all this. He decided to take a walk around the attic and on his way out jumped on the dog's back, sticking his claws into her. Chamalo followed suit.

Guy, Marceline and Ferdinand all raised their heads simultaneously. They had an idea. The same perhaps? But they each decided not to mention it to the others for the time being. Instead they preferred to set aside the day for reflection, think about things carefully, weigh
up the pros and cons, and explore the arguments first. There was no rush: there had been enough disasters already.

About eleven o'clock Marceline came back from the garden, looking for the two men to explain her plan, but they were nowhere to be found. She changed the water for the beans, put them on to boil with a pinch of baking soda (to prevent gas) and went to knock on the Lumière sisters' door. Simone was delighted to see her. She whispered that Hortense had finally gone to sleep and took advantage of this visit to rush off to the bathroom. She liked to take her time in the smallest room, listening to the radio, and doing the crossword; it was her break for the day. After a quarter of an hour, as she had still not returned, Marceline tiptoed out of the room, leaving the door open in case Hortense awoke, and went back to the kitchen. She glanced at the
Organigran
schedule pinned to the door: Guy had put her down for the four to six shift. This didn't suit her, so she swapped with Ferdinand.

Ferdinand called before midday to say there was no point in waiting: he and Guy had met some friends at the café, they were going to have lunch together. That was fine. Simone was already sitting with a plate in front of her; she was ravenously hungry. Between mouthfuls she told Marceline that Hortense would like them to have coffee in her room, as she had something important to say. Marceline asked if she knew what it was about. Simone replied a bit abruptly that she would find out all in good time. She hated talking with her mouth full. It was dangerous, the food could go down the wrong way and she might choke. That would be the final straw.

Hortense paused between words to catch her breath. It was painful. To make it easier Simone finished the sentences for her, adding her own running commentary. She's trying to say that it's very kind of you to have given us both a roof here. Not everyone would have done such a thing, that's for sure. Also . . . she didn't have any illusions about
her health, but if things got worse she wanted to be sure they would help Simone take the decision to send . . . the last words were drowned out by a terrible fit of coughing and this time Simone didn't help her to finish. In any case they had understood: she would prefer to end her days in the hospital. With tears in her eyes, Simone kissed her on the forehead.

“Yes, yes, Hortense dear. We'll do as you say. But now you must rest. It's not your time yet. I'd know if it was, come on.”

At two o'clock Marceline took her turn on duty.

Simone could go and get some rest. Or, if she preferred, spend some time in the bathroom doing the crossword.

The teacher came back in, frowning and looking suspicious. The students carried on working as if nothing had happened. Muriel pursed her lips and hunched her shoulders. It was the third time that week she'd forgotten to switch off her cell phone during lessons. If the teacher found out it was her phone beeping again, she was quite capable of chucking her out. Her grades hadn't been that great either, so she'd have had it. Hopefully the idiot who sent the message wouldn't be stupid enough to text her back to check if she'd got it.

She waited for the lunch break to take a look. It was a text from Mireille, her boss at the restaurant. She was offering her some work the following day, Saturday, from two until late. RSVP urgent. It was bound to be a two a.m. job like last time, Muriel told herself. Pity, she was tired. No special reason, it was just that right now she wanted to sleep all the time. Even during lessons it was like that. So she had planned to make the most of this weekend—the last before she vacated her room—by doing nothing at all. Stay in bed, chill, listen to music,
and catch up on sleep. Mess around and no way touch her college books. But she needed the cash and she had to look for a new place to live, if she wasn't going to end up on the street. Fucking hell. Just one week till the Christmas vacation. If she didn't find anything she'd be in deep shit. She texted her reply: “ok 4 2moro thnx muriel.” Then she went down to the real estate agents. It had just turned twelve-thirty, there was a notice on the door: “Your agent is currently out on a visit. Please return after 2 p.m.” She imagined him sitting at home having lunch with his wife, watching the news on TV. The thought really pissed her off, so she went back to college. As she passed the bakery she slowed to savor the smell of fresh bread, but didn't stop. Not worth checking again to see if there were any coins at the bottom of her bag or inside the lining: she had looked the day before and found nothing.

When she woke a bit later she was lying on a bed in the college health center; with no idea how she had landed up there. And then it all came back. She saw Louise's head bending over her, asking anxiously whether she was all right. Muriel, you OK? Oh my God, you're really pale, you poor thing. Madame, come quickly, Muriel . . . and wham! A black hole. No sound or picture. The nurse brought her a glass of sugar water, helped her up so she could drink, it did her good. Then she took her blood pressure again—eight over five, it was slowly going up—and asked her some questions. Had she ever fainted? Never. Had she any particular worries at the moment? Nothing special. Was she pregnant? Course not! Was she eating regularly? Muriel ignored the question and tried to get up. But stars started to dance before her eyes, so immediately she lay back down. The nurse sighed. She walked around her desk, rummaged in a drawer, took out a granola bar, that she had been keeping especially in case she felt hungry in the middle of the afternoon, and reluctantly handed it over. Muriel swallowed it
almost whole and thanked her with a big smile. She felt much better and was able to race off to her class.

She didn't want to miss the practical session on injections, drips, taking blood, and administering medication. She had been waiting too long for this moment.

At five to four the phone started to ring but Simone didn't pick up. She was watching a movie on TV, wearing her headphones. So she didn't hear a thing and Marceline had to run for it instead. It was Mireille, wanting to speak to Guy or to Ferdinand. Weren't they back yet? Too bad, she would tell Marceline then. She and Roland had been fighting. This time it was serious, much worse than all the others. So she would like it if someone could come over and pick up the two Lulus from school at four-thirty and take them to the farm for the weekend. That way they wouldn't have to see them fighting and end up traumatized. But there was another reason too. They had been asked at short notice to do a birthday dinner for about sixty people the following night. It was going to finish late and the little ones would be much better off with them. She would have to stay for work, of course, it was a damn pain . . . Oh, sorry! Marceline reassured her. She had planned to go into town. She was going to dash and get ready and would then drop by to pick up the children.

She did her debriefing at the end of the shift. Hortense had eventually taken her medication, drunk her tisane, and done her inhalation without too many complaints. She had even allowed her legs to be massaged to prevent bedsores. Her temperature had gone down a bit, which was a good sign. Now she was asleep. Simone would be able to watch the end of the episode in peace—but no headphones, eh? Then perhaps she would have time to tackle the crossword or a Sudoku level 6, to revive her poor old brain cells after all that schmaltz. Simone chuckled, but kept her eyes glued on the screen.

She'd better get a move on. Marceline wrapped up warmly and put on her oilskin coat and boots. Cornelius was down at the bottom of the garden. When he heard her calling he galloped over, trampling his way across Ferdinand's remaining leeks. She harnessed him to the cart, muttering that she did not agree at all with this sort of behavior. It was shameful, really, to spoil all those beautiful vegetables. He nodded, but she didn't find it funny. So he rubbed his head against her shoulder and that did produce a smile. As soon as he was ready, Berthe got up beside her and off they went, like a bat out of hell.

Mireille was waiting for her outside the school with the children. She had filled a wheeled shopping bag with clothes, toys, books and enough food to withstand a siege. Ludo and Little Lu were very excited. They gave Cornelius the apple core left over from their tea, and the donkey, without even waiting for their questions, started to nod his head in agreement. That worried Little Lu. But Ludo didn't seem to find it weird, so he swept aside his doubts.

“You look like you really love apples, eh, Cornelius? You pleased to see us? Do you want to take us for a ride in the cart? But see, we've got a big bag, our backpacks, and there's us too. Won't it be a bit heavy for you?”

The answer came like a bombshell.

“Sugar. Ludo, see, he says we're too heavy.”

“No, look. Cornelius, you're joking aren't you? See.”

And Little Lu sighed with relief.

Mireille gave them a kiss and then listed her demands: they must do their homework, brush their teeth morning and night, no swearing, oh and by the way no sweets all weekend, OK? Ask Marceline for a music theory lesson—I'm sorry I forgot to talk to you about it, do you mind? That's so kind—Mireille rushed off, she had a load of things to organize at the restaurant. Marceline set off too. But she didn't take the road to the farm. She stopped by a large building and explained to the children that she had to speak to someone; she didn't know who exactly, but she was going to find out, they wouldn't have to wait long.

It was Little Lu who first spotted the car parked further away with Guy and Ferdinand inside. It really made them laugh to see the two men jump when they knocked on the windows and shouted: Boo! But they didn't have time to explain why they were there because very soon the doors of the nearby building opened and a horde of students emerged, shouting and running onto the road. Ludo immediately recognized Muriel and Louise, the girls who had come to work in the restaurant the day of the big dinner. They were very kind and pretty and he loved their perfume, he just had to go up and say hello.

Marceline and Ferdinand followed behind.

When she saw him coming Louise started to laugh.

“Look, Muriel, it's that boy. His mother's the owner of the restaurant. What are you up to? Hanging around the college, trying to get yourself a girlfriend? Sneaky little devil!”

Ludo bowed his head and muttered: “Slut.”

Muriel intervened. “Don't take any notice, the lights are on but nobody's home. It's not her fault, she's down for a brain transplant. Top of the waiting list!”

They both were in stitches. Ludo, upset, ran off to the car, leaving Marceline and Ferdinand stranded in the middle of the crowd of
students. Privately each of them was thinking that maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all. No point in talking to the others for the time being: they might have to find another way. As they went back to Guy and the children, Muriel stopped close by them to answer her cell phone. And they overheard her conversation: yeah, it was really tough this year, but yeah, her work was going OK. No, she hadn't moved yet, it was beginning to stress her out, she was afraid she wouldn't find anything, if that happened she'd have to leave, change colleges, drop out . . . her voice cracked. But she soon recovered. One nice thing, they'd called her about a job at a restaurant, it was just the one day, but it was something, she could eat as much as she liked and then . . . she was going to find some solution, she just had to—right, her battery was running low, she had to go, speak some other time, big kiss, Granny, and don't worry, it'll be OK, I promise. She hung up, sat down on the curb, hung her head and started to cry. Berthe came up whining, buried her muzzle in her hair and neck and nibbled at her ear. Muriel glanced up, surprised to see the dog in front of her. And Ludo and Little Lu, holding out sweets and looking really sad. And behind them the three old people staring at her and smiling.

So that was how they met Muriel.

When asked if she knew how to give injections, she replied that she did, but of course neglected to say that she had never done it before. To test her out they described old Hortense, just as she was. They talked about the state of her health, the type of care required, her fear of needles, her mood swings and memory lapses. Muriel listened without flinching. They had the impression she was not frightened by any of it. That's what they were looking for: someone fearless. She'd won them over. So they explained the plan that each of them had worked out on their own, without any joint discussion: in return for one or two hours of care each day, as needed, they were
offering board and lodging and laundry. Her eyes opened wide. If it had just been up to them they would have sealed the deal on the spot. But first she had to get through her interview with Hortense, which was far from a formality. Muriel agreed to give it a try, and they got her in the car.