Authors: Albert Cohen
'Old Fwench nobility,' said Monsieur Deume. He smoothed his moustache as though he were wiping it clean, then sniffed with considerable self-importance.
'Of course, you're not up to date with events. Yesterday, that is Friday, I received a delightful phone call from the Rampals, who are in Geneva for a few days, they have to settle some business at the bank. I had a word first with Didi and then called them back this morning and invited them to dine here this evening. You do appreciate that we, have to use up all that food we got in.'
'Oh yes, Madame, absolutely, you're so right.'
'Unfortunately, I just missed the boat, as dear Corinne Rampal junior so wittily put it. She went on to say that she would have loved to give us precedency but in the meantime they'd had to say yes to lots of other invitations — such dear people, so in demand — and they were booked for lunching and dinner until Tuesday next, and Tuesday evening they leave for Paris, but that merely meant putting off the pleasure until they come again in December, when the next dividend warrants fall due. But, to make up for it, dear Corinne was sweet enough to ask me over to see them this afternoon in the splendid place they have at Coppet, seeing as how she won't be swamped by bank business after lunch because the banks will be closed by then. For tea. Ladies only,' she smiled, revealing her long, slanting teeth, and she added one of her refined salival gurgles. 'Oh, I'm so looking forward to seeing dear Corinne again! Such an old soul, you know, and so inward, she cares for many poor persons who receive her charity, she quite spoils them, you know, she gives them shoes that have hardly been worn, and are they grateful? She's a truly good person, I love being with her, we have such deep discussions, we're so attuned inwardly, in that superb drawing-room of hers at Coppet, it's twelve metres by seven. I must say I feel a great deal closer to her than to her dear husband, with whom I have never been intimate, he's extremely courteous and pleasant of course but obviously a littel on the reserved side, I mean, he is a diplomat after all! Where was I? I've lost my thread. Oh yes, when Adrien realized we couldn't get the Rampals, he didn't stand about dithering, he took the bull by the horns, and so before he went off to the Palais this morning the dear boy just picked up the phone and rang his friends the Kanakises at their home so as he would get the both of them, because his wife was included too, to say yes. So it's all fixed. Once Didi starts something, he doesn't shilly-shally, it's all arranged, a dinner party, here, tomorrow night, Monsieur Kanakis is the nephew of a minister, you know.'
'Of the Kingdom of Gweece,' said that lover of detail Monsieur Deume, who proceeded to persuade the wings of his moustache to swell the ranks of his goatee.
'It's extremely fortunate they were able to come tomorrow at such short notice, and accept what must have seemed a rather point-blank invitation, don't you think?'
'It's worked out quite splendidly, Madame.'
'But you really should have seen how perfectly at his ease Didi was when he was speaking to Madame Kanakis, he called her "dear lady", I mean the manner, all the graces of a man of the world. And I must say it's a load off my mind, my dinner is saved, it would have grieved me if we'd had to eat up all that expensive food ourselves, especially the caviare. And we'll be able to use the printed menus too. When he'd done that, Adrien also phoned the Rassets but, aha!, most mysterious, he got no answer! He rang me just now from the Palais, because he tells his Mummy everything, he does, he rang to say he'd tried to phone the Rassets several times but kept getting no reply, I think they must be away, probably off on their travels, it's a pity, Madame Rasset is the daughter of the Vice-President of the Red Cross.'
'International Committee of the Wed Cwoss,' corrected Monsieur Deume.
'Oh, that's a real shame,' said Ariane.
'Especially since it would have been a right royal occasion, seeing as how we have rather a lot of everything. We'll just have to keep plying the Kanakises with caviare, that's all. It doesn't keep.'
'That's a good idea,' said Ariane.
'From one point of view, it's a pity, caviare is so expensive. But it's better than throwing it away, because at least we'll be giving someone pleasure, don't you agree, Ariane?'
'I do indeed, you're quite right. Isn't there anything else I can do for you, Madame?'
'Well you could get me a pound of tea, English broken-leaf, nine francs twenty-five, oh and a pound of coffee, Colombian.'
'It's got more body than Bwazilian,' said Monsieur Deume.
'Only too delighted,' said Ariane.
'Thank you very much, Ariane,' said Madame Deume, who, on an impulse, reached out and took both her wondrously transmogrified daughter-in-law's hands in hers. She gazed at her with a strongly spiritual expression on her face. 'You can also get me a pound of Palmina margarine. It's a lot cheaper than butter for cooking.'
When Ariane enquired if she was absolutely sure there wasn't anything else she could do for her, Madame Deume asked her, if it wasn't too much of a bother, to call at lost property and hand in a bunch of safety-pins which she'd found on a tram the day before yesterday, there must be a couple of dozen all told, brand new, probably been dropped by some unfortunate working-class woman, and the thought of it was preying on her mind. Ariane said it was no bother at all, because as it happened she was going to the Place du Bourg-de-Four in any case to ask about a cookery class she was thinking of putting her name down for. Madame Deume made a mental note and gave an angelic smile.
'If you're going in that direction, perhaps you'd be very kind and call on Madame Replat who is someone I met at the ladies' sewing-guild, as it happens she lives at number six, Place du Bourg-de-Four, it won't take you much out of your way, and tell her I told her a lie, I'm sorry to say, though not on purpose of course, but I feel very bad about it, and I'd rather get it off my chest, perhaps it's part of the reason why I haven't been sleeping well. I told her that Saint-Jean d'Aulph was nine hundred and forty metres above sea level. And when I went to check last night I was a hundred metres out! Saint-Jean d'Aulph is only eight hundred and forty metres above sea level! Would you mind telling her that?'
'Not at all.'
Thank you, my dear, thank you very much. You see, I cannot live with a lie. For instance, when I write to friends I could never say "best wishes from Hippolyte" without asking him first! And if he was out I wouldn't dream of sending his regards, not even if I was writing to his oldest friends! Honesty is the best policy is what I say, in littel things as well as in big things. Thank you once again, dear,' smiled Madame Deume, and the lenses in her spectacles glinted with love.
When her daughter-in-law had gone, she looked at her husband, whp looked back at her with an expression of neutrality, neither for nor against, on his face. Inwardly he was aquiver with delight, so proud was he of Ariane, the darling girl. But you never knew, and prudence was the best policy.
'What do you reckon?' she asked.
'Well, I weckon
'Let's hope it lasts. To my mind she's been thinking about religion. You'll have noticed that she got that recipe for her fruit cake out of some religious magazine, I wonder which, but anyway it's a good sign. Do you remember she asked me if she could have the small room downstairs and turn it into a sitting-room where she could put her piano and so on? I said no, because that room is a godsend to me for keeping all sorts of bits and pieces in. But no matter, she can have it. I'll tell her at lunching that it's hers. Oh, it'll be a hardship for me, a great trial, but I do believe that once it's done I shan't regret the sacrifice.'
CHAPTER 24
Feeling remiss for not yet having said his morning prayers, Uncle Saltiel hurriedly washed his hands, sang the three praises, and then, draping the ceremonial shawl over his head, intoned the prescribed verses of Psalm thirty-six. He was about to put on the phylacteries when the door suddenly burst open to reveal, skimming on his crampons, Naileater.
'Comrade and cousin,' quoth he, 'behold I am come into your august presence to speak, in confidence, plain words of good sense intended for your ears only. Here beginneth the nub. Loyal friend and companion of my vicissitudes, how long shall the present torment last?'
'What torment?' asked Saltiel calmly, and he proceeded to fold his prayer-shawl.
'Give ear to the utterance of my tongue and you shall be enlightened. I summarize: travelling from London by aerial conveyance, we made land here in Geneva as dawn's rosy fingers reached out on the thirty-first day of May, and today is Tuesday the fifth of June. Am I correct? Do you hold another view? Then the motion is carried. Therefore have we been five days in Geneva and I have yet to set eyes upon your lord and nephew! But you, with vested egotism, have met with him every day and yet you have not made me privy to the secret of your conversation, doubtless finding in this procedure some paltry pleasure which flatters your sense of superiority. All you deigned to do was to come with mysterious intent last night and wake me, thus disturbing my innocent sleep, with the aim of informing me with satanic glee that you had just spent several delightful hours in the company of the aforementioned lord, and of announcing in an aside, the brevity of which cut me to the quick, that he is to call on us this morning at ten, here in our auberge, a word of German origin. Eschewing all animosity, forgiving those who trespass against me, and strangling in my bosom the Hon of indignation and the hyena of envy, I made shift to smile with blameless heart and pure, filled to the brim with the disinterested joy of at last seeing your nephew who, after all, is also linked to me by the bond of blood. With my heart ablaze with impatience, I have awaited his coming since the break of day.'
'Why since the break of day if he said ten o'clock?'
'Because I have a temperament of fire! And now it is ten thirty and I have not seen as much as this nephew's little finger! And so the days pass, dismal and unproductive! It cannot go on! I cannot go on, kicking my heels like this in my Slough of Despond! Since I have been in Geneva's fair city, what have I accomplished that is sufficiently grandiose and pungent to warrant transmission to future generations? Nothing, my friend, nothing, except for one prettily handwritten visiting-card left at the home of the unmannerly Vice-Chancellor of the University of Geneva, a man of no refinement, who did not even return a word of thanks! To put it in a nutshell, I languish, my life is trickling away in this city of interminable waiting where stupid gulls shriek their spite! For five days, my friend, I have been leading a life which has no meaning, no poetry, no noble aspiration! I direct my steps through a Slough of Despond, I peer through shop windows, I eat and I sleep! In short, I lead a purely animal existence, devoid of creativity, repercussions, adventure, bereft of unexpected advantages, stripped bare of even one illustrious action! And so, when evening falls, having nothing to do or achieve, pale-cheeked and hollow-eyed, I take myself off to my bed at a dismally early hour, at dusk, when night begins to descend, trailing its wake of widow's weeds! Now what sort of life is that, I ask you? I will say it bluntly: your nephew has neglected us, and it sets my fingertips atingle. He gave a promise, he has not kept that promise and I judge him severely! He is deficient in family feeling: that is my verdict! How do you say?'
'What impudence! And who are you to judge him? Where are your diplomas? What high office do you hold?'
'Sometime Vice-Chancellor!'
'And foot doctor! Can you not understand that he has doubtless been faced with some last-minute world-shattering issue this morning? Deficient in family feeling, my foot and my elbow! And what of the three hundred gold napoleons of inconceivable weight which he forced on me last night, to be divided equally between the five of us, as I informed you the moment I returned to our hotel? And of course you insisted on having your share, sixty napoleons, then and there, did you not, O grasping man, O devouring lion!'
'It was done in all innocence. I merely wished to slide them under my pillow and fill my ears with their sensuous tinkling as I slept.'
'Deficient in family feeling, eh? And the sixty napoleons? The coinage is current in Switzerland.'
'Current coinage and also legal tender, I agree. But what good to me are napoleons and their gladness if I lack the joy of creating, acting and being admired? What I need is a life of excitement filled with argument and schemes! I need to live a little before I die! Be reasonable, Saltiel, and try to understand my anguish. We are in Geneva, city of grand receptions, and I am invited to none of them! Tell me, is it your nephew's intention to keep me in a gilded cage and drive me to pernicious anaemia? I can stand it no longer, I am buffeted by clouds of inertia and my life of solitude is turning me into a skein of dried seaweed.'
'And what conclusion, O man of words, do you draw therefrom?'
'I conclude that we are idiots, myself excepted. And that since your nephew has not come to us, we should go to him, in his castle of the nations!'
'No. He would be most aggrieved were we to arrive unannounced. I shall have parlance with him via the electrical circuit and shall remind him that we are waiting.'
'But if he comes here, where's the pleasure?' groaned Naileater, revealing his true thoughts. 'Surrounded by ministers and ambassadors, that's how we should see him, our hearts swelling with pride, because our hearts thirst for ministers and ambassadors, that is, for important persons! They cry out for animated conversation with the aforementioned eminences! Come now, Saltiel, let us live dangerously! Let us go forth and pay him a visit in his enchanted palace of influence! Let boldness be our friend! Let us set
zfait accompli
before him! Was not my grandfather cousin to his grandfather? Moreover, dear friend, there are rich employments for the asking in this League of Nations, golden opportunities! Who knows what Fate might have in store for us if we repair thither today? Perhaps I might strike up a friendship with Lord Balfour! I have read in this city's public print that the Count of Paris, scion of the forty kings who created France in twenty centuries, is currently in residence in Geneva! He may at this very moment be at the casde of nations and I would like to meet him and earn his good opinion with a few well-chosen royalist remarks, for I am ever mindful to take all requisite precautions just in case the monarchy of France be one day restored! Believe me, Saltiel, your nephew would be delighted to see us arrive unannounced and his tongue would explode with joy, you have my word on it! Let us sally forth, Saltiel, come, feast your eyes on your nephew, observe him enthroned in his all-importance, that your chest may swell and mine too!'