Read And Then Came Paulette for Free Online Page B

the TV and watched the rain outside.
    The cat had not returned. He felt alone and depressed, so he went to bed.
    But he didn’t sleep.
    His mind was in turmoil and his emotions all mixed up. Sadness, shame, anger, guilt . . . He was annoyed with himself, hated his coldness and lack of humanity, came up with excuses, but wasn’t convinced. So even after the cat came back and despite the purring in his ear that usually had a strong soporific effect, he got to thinking. Asked himself all those questions: if, where, what, how, not to mention why. The answers seemed obvious. But it was all too easy, so the doubts returned. Worn out by all this back and forth, he came up with a solution: the following day he would ask his best friends, Guy and Gaby, what they thought. That would be more sensible. Just as he was about to doze off in the usual way, he asked himself what his late wife Henriette would have made of it all. And at that point it suddenly became clear to him. Five-thirty in the morning. He still had quite a lot to do and a load of feelings to unpick. But above all he had to put the finishing touches to his idea. Without disturbing Chamalo he got up, made himself a cup of coffee and let his mind wander, waiting for it to be a reasonable hour to visit.

14
Ferdinand Rehearses His Lines
    Standing outside Marceline’s front door, Ferdinand didn’t dare knock. He kept going over in his head what he was going to say. Finding the proper tone, the right words, it was tricky. So . . . Hello, Madame Marceline, it’s me again. Ferdinand. I’ve come back to say that I’ve been thinking all night about it, I’ve gone over things again and again, I’ve weighed it up, dissected it, racked my brains and I’ll be straight with you: you can’t stay in this house any longer. In the state it’s in, it’s dangerous. The beams are rotten; the roof could collapse at any moment. You have to leave. Urgently. As you know, since my kids left I’ve been living on my own at the farm next door. For nearly two months now. I have several rooms not being used, with separate entrances. All the modern conveniences. Not so long ago we were three families living there, you know. Three generations. Without treading on each other’s toes. So, there you are, it couldn’t be easier. You can move in today, stay till the work’s been done, for the winter, and some of the spring, of course. Then if you want there’s room in the stable for your donkey and a henhouse for your chickens. And . . .
    He knocked.
    The dog barked and from inside, Marceline’s voice, barely audible, told him to come in.
    She was sitting on a chair, shaking and looking dazed, with her cat in a ball on her knees, its fur all matted.
    “He’s come back. I think he’s hurt.”
    “Do you want me to take a look?”
    “Yes, please.”
    Ferdinand felt the cat. The dog anxiously tried to stop him, slipping her muzzle under his hand to move it away, whining, begging him to stop. He gave her a pat. And in a reassuring tone said that nothing seemed to be broken, but it must be quite a bruiser this tomcat, it had scabs all over. No need to worry though, in two to three days he would be right as rain. Cats were thick-skinned. Marceline sighed and bit her lips to stop herself from crying.
    A pause. Then Ferdinand helped her out of her chair and put her raincoat over her shoulders.
    “Come on, Madame Marceline, you can’t stay here.”
    He took the cat in his arms, and went out of the house first, with her following. The dog followed too.

15
The Invitation
    Marceline was asleep in the armchair, her cat curled up on her knees and the dog at her feet. They were no longer trembling. Ferdinand took the opportunity to go back to her little house to save those things that could be damaged by the water and cover the rest with tarpaulins. When he returned Marceline was still sleeping. He hung the clothes from her wardrobe out to dry. Then he set off again with the dog, this time