All the Way (25 page)

Why don't we go to the sea?

He thinks that's a great idea. He's seeing the real Solange now. That's it, now he really understands her: romantic and whimsical, funnier than he'd expected, and more seductive too. He must love her, for sure. Otherwise he wouldn't be driving this far.

The road heads out among the lighthouses. Villages, fields, villages. They're singing along to a Michel Jonasz song,
Even one day spent without her, It's sorrow, And my heart on
the end of a string, Hanging
, he's holding the steering wheel with one hand and sticking his other hand in her pussy. It hurts a bit (his guitarist's nails) but it's funny too, she's never seen anyone driving in this position before.
And the storms
passed and we were…the creeks and the cliffs, Ice and a furnace, Heat
from the embers.
This is real life, a man, a car and singing. In the moonlight the sea stretches the windscreen to the size of her happiness—she's made it, this is exactly what she wanted, her heart filled with dreams of the sea, sensuality, and a future of tough times followed by peace.

The sand dune is all sand (not even a tiny bit of grass so she can avoid getting itchy). She lies languidly on his shoulder listening to him breathe over the murmur of the waves. The Whole Universe. What her mother talks about, but for real. They're part of the cosmos and the stars are twinkling, and if they set out straight across the water they would see the Statue of Liberty rising up into the sky. ‘Montreal is straight ahead,' Arnaud corrects her. Montreal is fine too.

In the car she tries discreetly to get rid of the sand; it's set off her thrush again.

The sun is rising when he drops her outside Bihotz's house. There's a light on in the kitchen. She's in for it.

Bihotz's face is all puffy from crying. Lulu is on the formica table, wrapped up in Madame Bihotz's patchwork quilt, stiff as a board.

Damn.

She'll wait until tomorrow (well, whenever she wakes up) to tell him that they've got to stop. In the meantime, she's dying of hunger, because she and Arnaud didn't eat at all. She gets out some leftover chicken from the fridge (‘wait, let me heat it up for you'), it's a bit awkward eating in front of him (and not that appetising with Lulu dead right there, but he's in the middle of wiping everything down with bleach).

Poor Monsieur Bihotz. She was especially kind so he'd have happy memories of her. It was a bit weird doing it so quickly after Arnaud. Perhaps the two sets of sperm cancel each other out? Like in a physics class, when you put water in a test-tube with oxygen and it explodes, leaving just a tiny bit of vapour?

It's touching when he snores, his nose still blocked from being so emotional before. He
so
deserves to be loved. And perhaps in another life, in other
circumstances
—but it's like his dick doesn't really make him into a man. In any case not a man like her father or like Arnaud. It's tiring to think about all that. She tries to get up, she doesn't want to sleep there—she's got to get up.

Dear Monsieur Bihotz,
    
I have left with Arnaud. I have chosen my path. I'm sorry
but I'd rather tell you because I don't want to hurt you. I send you
my sincere condolences for Lulu. I know it will annoy you that
I'm saying this but you know soon you'll get another replacement
dog. I wanted to thank you for all the good times we've had together. Forget me and start a new life. I'll never forget you.
Lots
of kisses.

Solange.

P.S. Don't make a fuss or else I'll tell everyone.

♥♥♥♥

Bihotz is in his garden, he looks like he's getting on just fine. He's banging and tapping on something.

Arnaud said he'd be coming. She doesn't know yet whether she's going to be living in Bordeaux with him, or if he's got somewhere else in mind (because of his
official
girlfriend).

Her heart leaps when she hears the garden gate open, but it's her mother, who is dropping by briefly to collect the mail and check that everything's okay.

‘Are you eating properly?' Her mother has lost a lot of weight (or got old). She's found an internship for herself in a language camp at a farm, French immersion for students (except that because of the shop she's saddled with two hours of driving a day). Being married is one of the main reasons behind her
amputating
herself from her roots, what with the scorn Solange's father has for everything she is, all her values—for the way she lives her life like a tourist, as he calls it, and for what he claims is her colonialist vision, yes! As well as the scorn he has for the female experience. Thank goodness she can relax knowing Monsieur Bihotz is here. He shouldn't worry. Papa must be sending him a cheque soon. She'll visit them again soon when she has more time. Give me a big kiss, my darling. Lots of kisses for my big girl. Everything will be better very soon.

She could even come and live at the language camp, on the farm.

Lulu is dead
(she tells her mother on the doorstep).

‘Poor Monsieur Bihotz. Be kind to him. I trust you.'

He's still banging away outside. Perhaps he's weeding—with more fervour than usual? From her bedroom window, she can see him under the oak trees. He's digging a hole. Breaking up the earth with huge swings of his spade. Acorns, last year's leaves, the spring catkin flowers. His big frame sends everything flying as he mulches it all up.

Did he find her letter? She put it under his pillow. And what if he tells everyone? What if she got sent to reform school? What if they took her away from Arnaud?

Their eyes meet, she quickly shuts the curtains with Statues of Liberty all over them.

Monsieur Bihotz is in hospital. He drank weedkiller. Rose's mother tells her, with a funny look on her face. Apparently he drank weedkiller
on purpose
. And if he doesn't die he'll probably lose his kidneys.

Kidneys are for peeing. And you can eat them.

Her brain is frozen, congealed in a white sauce. She has a vision of herself back at the restaurant with him, her plate of kidneys in front of her. She's always regretted not ordering the
confit de canard
. The girl at the next table, the birthday virgin, had ordered the
confit
. Perhaps everything might have been different if she had. Perhaps then Bihotz wouldn't have the kidney problem. But if Stalin, let's say, hadn't gone to Yalta, it wouldn't necessarily have changed the world, given that it would have been a
different
world.

‘What could make an old bachelor like Bihotz behave like a schoolgirl? Don't tell me it was that old dog dying? People can be way too sentimental.'

Rose's father was very disturbed (so they say) by what Delphine did. Anyway it's nice to be able to walk around under his watchful eye without feeling judged or worried about getting a bad name (the worst thing would be for this man to think of her as being like Slurp or, worse still, like Delphine). According to Rose her mother is sexually frustrated. You wouldn't think it looking at Rose's father.

The other news item is that Nathalie is apparently a virgin. Christian wanted to try his luck with her (given how much she led him on by always talking about doing it) but she explained to him in the strictest confidence that she was saving herself for when she was ready, like for the love of her life.

Bullshit. She was just freaked out, that's all.

Her mother has come to pick her up from Rose's house. They're supposed to be visiting Monsieur Bihotz. She has as little desire to go and see Bihotz as she did to turn up at Delphine's bedside. Those sort of things just make her too sad.

‘You're so selfish! Just like your father. Do you realise that Monsieur Bihotz is going to be on dialysis for the rest of his life?'

(
Dialysis
n. (from Greek
dialusis
, meaning dissolution). The separation of smaller molecules from larger molecules in a solution by selective diffusion through a semipermeable membrane. ||
Peritoneal
dialysis
, a therapeutic method of eliminating metabolic waste from the body in cases of renal failure.)

It sounds a bit like a female first name. It turns out he's going to be attached to a machine. And he'll probably have to move house to be closer to the hospital, on the coast.

Arnaud is taking his time to turn up. He must have gone back to Bordeaux and most likely his girlfriend is making a scene.

And apparently her mother is angry with Rose's mother. Something about how offended she was that she had interfered by organising a gynaecologist for Solange (who cancelled the appointment anyway, given that she's with Arnaud). When the time comes, she says, she'll make the appointment herself for Solange. That woman and her red boots, she's really got some peculiar ideas about things.

As for her, she still hasn't got to try out tampons (it's an advantage not being a virgin). Rose's mother gave her a whole lecture about contraception—‘no boy will ever worry about it on your behalf '—but Monsieur Bihotz did, after all, he's so responsible, he must have thought about it somehow or other. She remembers how he'd set out her first sanitary napkins next to his shaving cream. And how poetic he'd been comparing the shape of a bloodstain on the sheet to a ‘moth'. She's almost moved by the thought of it.

Anyway, for someone young like her, it would be such a hassle—oh well, all that stuff is so boring. (She's got to stop using ‘so' all the time.) She's got so many other things to think about.