From time to time, Leone would look up and across to the nearby table. On each occasion, she would catch the eyes of one or the other of the friends. Soon, she felt herself become increasingly uneasy. “What a pity I’m not alone… they’re both rather handsome. I’d find it difficult to choose between them… but, why choose?… Oh, what a fool I am, anyway, they’ll soon be leaving… I’d like to leave, too… How it would be nice to be alone in Paris for a few days… Strange how these men attract me… It’s reciprocal, they both like me too… what should I do?… I’d like to see them again… know where they live… I just can’t speak to them, not in front of mother and the children… Oh, how life can be awkward!”
She pulled out a cigarette from the pack. A flame was struck. One of the men was offering it to her. She lit up her cigarette and thanked him with a nod.
The plates were cleared away and the meat was brought on. Increasingly disturbed, she was rather tersely answering the children’s questions. Sophie pulled her by the sleeve.
“You’re not even listening to me. What are you thinking of?”
Leone kissed the child.
“I was thinking how bored I will be without you around.”
She tried to feign interest in her own mother’s discourse: she was worried how her daughter would spend the holidays. Heard Jacques asking whether he would be having the same instructor as the previous year, and if he could still go to the movies in the afternoon.
Once again, her eyes met the gaze of the two men. This time, she didn’t break the contact. She could read their desire, it was the same as hers, brutal and transparent. She felt her face go all red and looked away. There was something obsessive about their presence, her heartbeat quickened, her hands were becoming clammy, the bottom half of her body turning to lead. Shards of lucidity kept on telling her she was mad, ill, a sexual pervert. She took another cigarette and broke three matches in a row in a futile attempt to light it. The man who had offered her the flame earlier stood up, his light shivering slightly as he approached it. Leone took hold of the young man’s hand to bring it to the level of her cigarette. This brief contact caused her turmoil. The lighter’s flame went out under her breath.
“I’m sorry,” she said, looking up.
Her emotion reached its pinnacle as she witnessed the pale and stirring face of the man. He switched the lighter back on. Leone breathed the smoke in deeply with great relief.
“Thank you.”
He returned to his seat, said a few words to his friend who was smiling back at him. The arrival of the dessert trolley was a welcome diversion. The children wanted a taste of each single one: the chocolate mousse, the rum baba, the egg cream, the raspberry pie, the blackcurrant sorbet, the chocolate cake, the iced meringues, the tarte tatin, their eyes were all over the place. The two men chose their desserts under the admiring gaze of the kids. Leone took only a coffee, which provoked some witty remarks among the men about how women knew to protect their waistline. Even though it was all rather banal, Leone laughed along with them, pleased by this fortuitous contact which would very soon come to an end on the station platform.
The time was nearing, Leone requested the bill and a porter. They offered to carry her luggage, but gave up smiling when they saw how many she had.
“Where are you going?” one of them asked.
“Morzine,” Sophie said.
“What a coincidence, so are we,” they said together in such harmony that all three burst out laughing.
Her mother watched Leone with disapproval while the children looked jealous. They reached their sleeping car. The ticket controller opened the door connecting the children and the grandmother’s cabin. They moved and jumped between the compartments with noisy glee. Leone walked out into the corridor, and noticed the two men coming towards her from the other end of the car. The same emotion that had overcome her in the restaurant returned, only more violent now. She had to admit to herself that she wanted both of them together, that their joint desire was inflaming hers. “I’m a complete freak,” she thought. A good thing matters would go no further: them to Morzine or wherever, she in Paris. Sadness suddenly swirled over her at the thought of being alone in Paris, in the grey, cold and muddy December Paris, while others left for the snow and holidays, maybe even some sun.
“We were looking for you… You will come and have a glass of champagne with us?”
“No, thank you. It’s not possible, the train is about to leave.”
“But until Morzine we have all the time in the world.”
“I’m not taking the train, I’m only seeing the children off.”
“Oh, no…”
The harmony of how they expressed their disappointment and the sad look on their faces touched Leone so much she couldn’t stop herself from chuckling gently.
“Don’t pull such faces, you both look as if you’ve just lost your best friend.”
“Yeah, I suppose it’s a bit like that,” whispered the darker-haired one.
“Come with us,” said the other. “It’s stupid to stay in Paris at Christmas.”
“Yes, yes, why don’t you come along?”
“But I can’t, my job…”
“You can phone in tomorrow and say you’re sick.”
All the while, Sophie had been quietly listening to the conversation and watching her mother and the two young men in turn. She took her mother by the hand.
“They’re right, it would be nice if you came along with us.”
“You know it’s not possible, my darling. Go and see your grandmother.”
“Come, we’d so much like to know you better. Even if you can’t stay for the whole holiday, come for two or three days.”
“No, I tell you, it’s not possible. Anyway, I’d have nothing to wear. I can’t go to the mountains and the snow dressed like this.”
She pointed at herself, showing them how her black shoes couldn’t adequately replace decent apres-ski and her thin grey stockings substitute for warm leggings; and her delicate kid gloves, they would fall apart in the snow.
“It doesn’t matter, everything you need we can buy there.”
She did not answer. All three of them kept on watching each other, twisted up in their desire to huddle together, to caress one another, to love. Leone felt a pang of anger: “They’re right, what’s so important in Paris? I was only staying behind because I didn’t feel like going with mother and the children… But… Can one go like this, with people you don’t even know?… The only thing I know of them, is that they want to screw me… It’s getting on my nerves, after all… and then, what would mother think, if I stayed here, like that… she’s not stupid… and the children?… oh, to hell with the kids… if I did go?… It’s not possible, I haven’t got my toothbrush… or any make- up… I’d be such a sorry sight tomorrow morning… but they are so handsome… why not give in to their lust… and mine… so?”
“Madam, time to get off, the train is about to depart.”
The ticket controller stole her away from her thoughts. She waved farewell to the two men and walked into the compartment to kiss her mother and the children. Like on the occasion of every departure, Sophie cried, her tears soon dried by Leone’s kisses. Jacques wanted to open the window onto the platform; his mother convinced him not to, because of the cold. She kissed her mob one last time and got off the train. The controller closed the door behind her.
Like most people, she hated farewells on station platforms, it made her cry. Without even waiting for the train’s departure, the final kisses blown from her lips, she began moving towards the exit. She passed the wagon where the two men were standing on the running board.
“Come, you can go back tomorrow if you want.”
She stopped, her whole body braced towards them, torn between the desire to jump aboard and conventional morality.
“I’d really like to, but…”
The train gave a jump and slowly set itself in motion. She moved as if to climb on. She mechanically walked alongside, like someone trying to postpone the moment of separation from a loved one embarking on a long journey.
