Read Serge Bastarde Ate My Baguette for Free Online
Authors: John Dummer
on the table, sitting among the Quimper plates and jugs. About twenty centimetres high, hand-carved in walnut, it had an almost medieval quality.
  When I picked it up and examined it I could see it was the figure of a miniature devil in a monk's robe. The face was hidden under a cowl, but you could tell it was demonic by the little carved arrowed tail at the back. He was holding a trident in one hand and a small carved book in the other. I turned the little fiend in my hands and examined it more closely. I have an affection for carved wood and I'm also fond of demons in general. Anything vaguely gargoyle or with a gothic flavour attracts me.
  'This little chap's interesting,' I said to Gerard. 'How much are you asking for him?'
  'Oh, I don't know, John. I picked him up among a load of junk in a house clearance â they sold off the old presbytery in a little village near Bordeaux.'
  'Go on, take the horrible little object.' Josette had appeared in the doorway behind Gerard. 'I'll be glad to see the back of the thing. Gives me the creeps, so it does.'
  She came round to give me a kiss on both cheeks. I'm always pleased to see Josette. She'd been a real Gypsy beauty once, but the rigours of having a family and life on the road had taken their toll. What she'd lost in looks she'd gained in character and she was still a fascinating woman and a great laugh once she got going.
  'No,' I said, 'I'll pay a fair price for him.'
  She closed my hand tightly over the little figure.
  'Take him. It's a gift. I insist.'
  I looked at Gerard. He nodded. 'If you like him, John, you can have him. He cost me nothing. I wouldn't dream of charging you.'
  I was touched. It wasn't the first time I'd been surprised by the generosity of a gitan. I thanked them and strolled back to my stall with the little figure in my pocket. I sat about after lunch with not much to do, waiting for that elusive sale, but it never came. I was bored and found myself absentmindedly inspecting the little wooden demon.
  It was strange, the way the face was concealed under the hood of the robe. There was a chin visible, but the rest of the features were somehow cunningly hidden among the folds. It was an incredibly subtle piece of carving work and clearly executed by an expert. The more I looked to see how the effect was achieved the less I could work out how it was done. I found myself imagining the face under the cowl, and the picture my mind conjured up was not very pleasantâ¦
  Later I was holding the figure in my hand, watching to see if a couple of well-heeled customers perusing my stall were about to make a purchase, when I felt it move. It gave me such a shock that I jumped and involuntarily let it fall from my grasp. It bounced off under the table and only after I'd retrieved it on all fours did I manage to convince myself that my imagination had been playing tricks.
  I stood it away to one side, but my eyes kept being drawn back to it, picturing the face under the hood. In my mind it began to take on an air of menace. It was no longer simply carved wood, but a creepy little sentient being. I bagged it up and bunged it in a box under the table but I could still see every detail in my mind's eye. And as the afternoon wore on and I'd still sold nothing I began to wish I'd never clapped eyes on the despicable thing. Josette had been right â it was a horrible little object.
  In the end I decided to swallow my pride and took it back to tell Gerard I'd changed my mind, he could have it back.
  Josette was adamant. 'No, I'm sorry, John, we never want anything to do with it again.'
  'Yes, we've sold really well since we got rid of it,' said Gerard. 'If you've gone off it, why don't you put it on your stand and sell it?'
  'I wouldn't bother,' said Josette. 'We tried that and everyone was repelled. That's why I was surprised when you
  When I picked it up and examined it I could see it was the figure of a miniature devil in a monk's robe. The face was hidden under a cowl, but you could tell it was demonic by the little carved arrowed tail at the back. He was holding a trident in one hand and a small carved book in the other. I turned the little fiend in my hands and examined it more closely. I have an affection for carved wood and I'm also fond of demons in general. Anything vaguely gargoyle or with a gothic flavour attracts me.
  'This little chap's interesting,' I said to Gerard. 'How much are you asking for him?'
  'Oh, I don't know, John. I picked him up among a load of junk in a house clearance â they sold off the old presbytery in a little village near Bordeaux.'
  'Go on, take the horrible little object.' Josette had appeared in the doorway behind Gerard. 'I'll be glad to see the back of the thing. Gives me the creeps, so it does.'
  She came round to give me a kiss on both cheeks. I'm always pleased to see Josette. She'd been a real Gypsy beauty once, but the rigours of having a family and life on the road had taken their toll. What she'd lost in looks she'd gained in character and she was still a fascinating woman and a great laugh once she got going.
  'No,' I said, 'I'll pay a fair price for him.'
  She closed my hand tightly over the little figure.
  'Take him. It's a gift. I insist.'
  I looked at Gerard. He nodded. 'If you like him, John, you can have him. He cost me nothing. I wouldn't dream of charging you.'
  I was touched. It wasn't the first time I'd been surprised by the generosity of a gitan. I thanked them and strolled back to my stall with the little figure in my pocket. I sat about after lunch with not much to do, waiting for that elusive sale, but it never came. I was bored and found myself absentmindedly inspecting the little wooden demon.
  It was strange, the way the face was concealed under the hood of the robe. There was a chin visible, but the rest of the features were somehow cunningly hidden among the folds. It was an incredibly subtle piece of carving work and clearly executed by an expert. The more I looked to see how the effect was achieved the less I could work out how it was done. I found myself imagining the face under the cowl, and the picture my mind conjured up was not very pleasantâ¦
  Later I was holding the figure in my hand, watching to see if a couple of well-heeled customers perusing my stall were about to make a purchase, when I felt it move. It gave me such a shock that I jumped and involuntarily let it fall from my grasp. It bounced off under the table and only after I'd retrieved it on all fours did I manage to convince myself that my imagination had been playing tricks.
  I stood it away to one side, but my eyes kept being drawn back to it, picturing the face under the hood. In my mind it began to take on an air of menace. It was no longer simply carved wood, but a creepy little sentient being. I bagged it up and bunged it in a box under the table but I could still see every detail in my mind's eye. And as the afternoon wore on and I'd still sold nothing I began to wish I'd never clapped eyes on the despicable thing. Josette had been right â it was a horrible little object.
  In the end I decided to swallow my pride and took it back to tell Gerard I'd changed my mind, he could have it back.
  Josette was adamant. 'No, I'm sorry, John, we never want anything to do with it again.'
  'Yes, we've sold really well since we got rid of it,' said Gerard. 'If you've gone off it, why don't you put it on your stand and sell it?'
  'I wouldn't bother,' said Josette. 'We tried that and everyone was repelled. That's why I was surprised when you
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