Edith Artois: Not such a stupid woman
"RENÉ! What are you doing with your arms around that girl?" I yell, as I enter the café.
It's not like I really need to ask. As he pauses to come up with the best possible excuse, my mind flashes back over the numerous times I have entered the room and found my husband and one of our serving girls in a clinch like this. Now, both he and Yvette turn to face me. Then comes the usual line...
"You stupid woman! It is perfectly obvious what I am doing with my arms around Yvette. It is a very hot day. She... she almost fainted from dehydration!" While René is speaking, Yvette dramatically puts a hand to her head, and rather gracefully falls to the floor, landing in a heap. Noticing this, René continues, "See? There she goes! She needed someone to cling onto. I was trying to lead her to one of the tables, so she could sit down."
"Oh René- always so considerate. Yvette, you poor child- go have a lie down... and open a window in your room. I'm not surprised you fainted- it is a very humid day."
"Thank you, Mme Edith," sobs Yvette, as I help her to her feet, and she heads upstairs.
Once she is out of earshot, my tone changes.
"René- do you expect me not to have realised by now what is going on?"
"Whatever do you mean, Edith?"
"Do you not think I know the real reason why I keep catching you with Yvette, and sometimes Mimi? After over 25 years of wedded bliss, you lie to me?"
"Edith, I love only you. Yvette means nothing to me."
"Nothing? I have had my suspicions since she started working here. And what about that time when you were to marry Denise Laroque? Yvette left the room when you told me what was happening, and then when she returned, her exact words were 'Don't worry, Mme Edith- I will make him a wonderful wife.'"
"I told you- that was a misunderstanding..."
"Well, I hope you won't misunderstand me now. I am leaving this café. I don't know when you will see me again. I cannot stay in a place where I am constantly lied to by two of the people with whom I work."
"But Edith..."
"No buts."
I hurry upstairs to pack up some possessions. There should be enough clothes in this carpet bag, which Mama made for me a few Christmases ago, to last me a week. Looking around the room and noticing our wedding photo in a silver frame on the dressing table, I try to convince myself that I am doing the right thing. Doing my utmost to keep a brave face on the situation, I pick up the phone on my bedside table and dial.
A familiar voice answers, and tells me that he will be over in ten minutes with the small hearse with the small horse, to drive me away swiftly and with style.
About half an hour later…
"Thank you for letting me come round, Monsieur Alphonse. I just had to get away from the café."
"You know you are most welcome here anytime, Madame Edith. In fact, I am happy to see another living person in this house. Would you like a drink?"
We are in the lounge area of the apartment above the mortuary. It is very stylish, with white settees and curtains, and dark red cushions and walls. The wooden floor is covered by a red and white rug, and a few house plants stand on the veranda, which can be seen through the elegant French windows. M. Alphonse is standing by the dresser, and pours himself a glass of wine. He then takes out another glass and waits for my response.
"Ooh, just a glass of water, please. It is a very warm day."
"Here you are, my sweet lady," he says, handing me the glass and perching himself on the sofa next to me.
"Thank you."
"It is no trouble, Edith. I want you to know that I will do anything to help you during this difficult time."
"You are so wonderfully kind, M. Alphonse."
"Are you planning on going back to the café?"
"Oh no I can't. Not today."
"Well I will have to go to the café now, to speak to Michelle."
"Very well. Apologise to Michelle for me- no doubt she already knows what has happened."
"Certainly, Madame. And what should I say to René?"
"Tell him that if he really cares for me and wants to apologise, he should come and speak to me here."
"Very well. I shall be back in a few hours. If you are staying, you can take your things into the guest room."
"I hope it's not too much hassle for you…"
"Stay as long as you like, dear lady. And now, I really must go before my ticker starts playing up with the panic of being late."
As he leaves the apartment, I take my bag and walk through into the guest room. Sitting on the bed, I look out of the window and see M. Alphonse feeding the small horse a sugar lump, before climbing into the carriage at the front of the small hearse, and setting off to the café. When he is out of sight, I try to work out where I stand in my marriage to René. But after just five minutes, I find myself in floods of tears.
About 3 hours later, I hear the sound of the small horse pulling the small hearse back into the yard. M. Alphonse has returned- accompanied by Michelle Dubois of the Resistance. They make their way up the steps to the apartment, and I greet them with a considerably brave face.
"Madame Edith, I am very sorry to hear what happened this morning. Even though your husband is a hero of the Resistance, we all know that his lying is unforgivable."
"That is right... but I still love him so. We have been married for such a long time. It was our Silver Wedding Anniversary a few months ago. But the trouble is, I am too nervous to go back to the café and tell René how I really feel."
"Well listen very carefully, I shall say this only once: you and M. Alphonse must pretend to be engaged. A picture of the two of you will be published in the local paper tomorrow."
"Michelle- that is a perfect idea! But where will we get a camera? "
"Panic not, my dear lady," says M. Alphonse, in his usual calm voice. "If you remember, I am something of a photographer myself. I have an excellent camera, as well as a secret supply of photographic film. And I also know how to develop photographs." Moving over to the French windows and pulling one of the curtains across, he adds, "Why, this would be a perfect backdrop for the shot."
"Are you sure this will work?"
"Mme Edith- all I want is for you to be happy. And I'm positive that this plan will help everything to return to normal."
"It will be fine, Mme Edith," muses Michelle. "I will take the photo for you, but then I must disappear like a phantom. M. Leclerc will come along shortly, to collect the developed photo and take it to the Nouvion Press Office."
"Well, what are we waiting for?" suddenly, my enthusiasm and confidence in the project increases dramatically. "I shall go get ready. Of course, we must both look our best for the camera!"
About 15 minutes later, we are ready for the picture to be taken. How handsome M. Alphonse looks in his navy blue jacket, white shirt and black trousers. It is unusual to see him wearing colours other than black for a change, and it turns out that this is his Sunday best. Meanwhile, I have opted for the green dress and matching hat which I bought a few years ago during a short trip to England. Isn't it beautiful? It brings back wonderful memories of my first (and so far only) visit to Lion's Corner House, and the look on René's face when Captain Geering told him that all the food contained mushrooms! Oh, how nervous but excited I am, and how I hope that this plan works. Between you and me, I think it's the least dippy of Michelle's plans to date, and I have a feeling that we will succeed.
"Ahem, dear lady- Michelle is waiting to take the photo."
"Oh, I do apologise. I was miles away!" I smile, as M. Alphonse takes me by the hand and leads me over to the French window. The white curtains really do provide an excellent backdrop- and that houseplant will add a little more elegance to the scene. When we are ready, Michelle checks the lighting, and then takes 3 photographs, before disappearing like a phantom to find M. Leclerc.
*****
The next morning, I awake at about 10:30, and am enjoying a warm pain au chocolat and cool glass of freshly-made apple juice, when M. Alphonse returns from a venture into town. He enters the lounge and places today's edition of 'Aujourd'hui' on the table in front of me. Flicking through the pages, I gasp when I see the Celebrations section. It is a double page spread, and the photo of me and M. Alphonse occupies a large percentage of the available space.
"Is the photo to your satisfaction, Mme Edith?"
"It is wonderful, M. Alphonse. My husband will not fail to notice this. The paper usually arrives at the café at about this time on a morning, so let us give him half an hour or so to look at it, and then head over there."
"Do not worry- Michelle told me a plan, and I will repeat it only once. This is what will happen. We must tell Crabtree and M. Leclerc to stand by, and then..."
*****
About half an hour later, I return to the café. Not knowing how this scene will play out, I take a deep breath and enter, only to find a rather morose-looking René leaning over the counter, with the Celebrations page open in front of him. He looks up as I walk over to him.
"Good morning, Edith. So I see you are finally marrying that undertaker friend of yours?" His voice is quite calm, but it lacks expression.
"Well... it is not definite yet. Monsieur Alphonse knows that I am torn..."
René is about to respond, when the door flies open and a small bespectacled man, dressed as an antiques dealer enters, pulling a wooden cart full of items. Then comes the inevitable melodramatic performance, complete with cries of, "Antiiiiques! Who will buy some lovely antiques from a wandering antique dealer?"
"Oh my god- what does he want?" Suddenly René's tone changes to one of frustration, as opposed to despair.
"Pssst. It is I- Leclerc!" says the man, raising his glasses and grinning.
"Yes, I know that. What brings you here, you old fool?"
"I have a message from Michelle. On Friday next, General von Klinkerhoffen will host a buffet party on the beach for his troops. You are to pose as waiters; and at the end of the evening, when everyone has gone, the British Airmen will sail back to England in an iron bathtub.
"She is out of her tree. Why not make them jump over the Channel?"
"Well, that is Plan B."
Everything is going well so far. And a few moments later, the conversation is broken up when M. Alphonse comes running in, closely followed by Officer Crabtree, the English twit who thinks he can speak French.
"Gid moaning!" announces Crabtree, as he wanders over towards where we are all standing. "I have come to make an arrost. M. Alphonse the undertooker, you are winted for disturbing the poss. I must escoot you to the poloce stootion."
"You will have to catch me first," answers M. Alphonse, starting to run around like a school child wanting to play Tig. Crabtree chases him around the room, and eventually drags M. Alphonse out of the café- but not before the latter has struck René on the head with a silver platter from the wooden cart. Crabtree gives a thumbs-up sign through the window as he leaves the café, and I kneel down next to René, who has fallen to the ground.
"Oh poor René." I help him to his feet, and over to a chair. I take some ice from one of the buckets in the freezer, wrap it up in a clean cloth and place it carefully on the back of his head, where a rather nasty bruise is beginning to form. He reaches up and holds the cloth himself. Realising that his part in the scheme is now over, M. Leclerc trudges up the stairs to his room.
"Thank you, Edith," he mumbles. Just then, he turns around, having heard a noise outside. M. Alphonse comes running back into the café, and throws himself at my feet.
"Mme Edith- please forgive me."
"You are callous and heartless, M. Alphonse. The engagement is off. I can never marry you. Leave this property at once!"
"Of course, Madame," answers M. Alphonse, slowly leaving the café, trying to protect his ticker from any problems, following all that rushing around. As he walks past the window, he winks at me and mouths, "Mission accomplished!" before heading home.
"Edith- what was all that about?" asks a very confused René.
"He has been very rebellious lately, and I do not understand why. I cannot marry a man like that. Besides, I cannot leave you René. I realise now that what I saw yesterday was a misunderstanding."
"So you are returning to the café for good?"
"Of course. And I have a suggestion. Although my engagement to M. Alphonse was suddenly abandoned, the whole town expects a wedding. So why don't we renew our vows?"
René says nothing. Instead, he smiles, nods his head enthusiastically, holds me in his strong arms and gives me a great big hug. I put my arms around him, and for a few moments, everything is perfect.
Then the door opens. Yvette walks in and puts the wicker shopping basket which she is carrying down on the table nearest the window. She then looks in our direction with an expression of horror and confusion on her face, and cries,
"RENÉ! What are you doing with your arms around Mme Edith?"
"You stupid woman...!"
THE END.