Paris: The Novel (37 page)

They didn’t. There were shouts of approval. Éric kept his hand clamped on Thomas’s shoulder.

“If the tower’s not finished,” Thomas said, too quietly for anyone to hear, “we shall have dishonored France in the eyes of the whole world.”

“It’ll get finished,” Éric replied, just as quietly. “But I’d keep my mouth shut, if I were you. Wouldn’t want you falling off the tower, would we?”

The work stopped that day. Eiffel turned up at the site an hour later and had an urgent conversation with Jean Compagnon. Then the two of them went to talk to Éric. The engineer looked furious, but it seemed he didn’t give way. The men stood around all day, but nothing happened. Late in the afternoon, the foreman told them they might as well go home for the day.

As Thomas was walking off the site, Pepe fell into step beside him. “Want a drink?” he said. As he had nothing else to do, he agreed gladly enough. Pepe lived in the sprawling quarter on the Left Bank to the south of the tower, and he took Thomas to a bar there.

“I didn’t dare say what you did,” Pepe told him, “but I think you were right.” Then they talked about his family, and the Italian girl he was hoping to marry, and Thomas told him a little about Édith, but not too much, and they agreed that they’d all meet one Sunday, and Pepe would take them to a place where they could get an Italian meal for not too much money. After parting the best of friends, Thomas walked back, crossed the river in the usual way and made his way home.

He came to the rue de la Pompe. His lodgings were not far ahead. He passed the darkened gateway to the yard that had once been the farm of Édith’s family.

The strong hand that clamped on his shoulder took him completely by surprise. He lunged forward to run, but felt his other arm held in a grip he couldn’t break out of. Someone powerful, very powerful, had moved out of the shadows. He twisted, punched hard over his shoulder at where his assailant’s face might be. But the unseen figure anticipated him. He kicked back hard with his right boot, and felt the body behind him shift skillfully. Whoever it was knew how to fight. And he was just opening his mouth to shout for help, when a familiar voice spoke into his ear.

“Keep still, you fool. I need to talk to you.” Then the grip relaxed,
and he turned to face the burly figure of Jean Compagnon. “Stay in the shadow,” the foreman said, so Thomas stepped into the gateway.

“Couldn’t you have met me in a bar?” Thomas asked, having recovered himself.

“Bad idea. Never know who might see you. The men already think you may be a stool pigeon.”

“But I’m not.”

“That’s not the point. It was brave, what you did today. Took me by surprise. But now you’ve got to be careful.”

“You mean Éric might push me off the tower?”

“No. Not unless you annoy him. You were quite useful to him today, you know. You provided a focus. Anyone who thought of disagreeing with him would be pointed at as one of your friends. A stool pigeon of Eiffel’s. That suits Éric very well.”

“The son of a bitch.”

“That’s politics. Éric won’t hurt you, but one of the men might. You never know.”

“What do I do?”

“Nothing. Keep your mouth shut and your eyes open. I’ve enough troubles without having to look out for you all the time. I did that once already.”

Thomas was silent for a moment. Was Compagnon letting him know that he’d noticed him that day he’d panicked when he’d looked down in the early days of the tower’s building? Probably.

“What’s going to happen about the strike?” he asked.

“Eiffel’s furious. But Éric’s right. He’ll have to settle. It’ll take a day or two.”

“Won’t Éric just do it again?”

“I don’t think so.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I’ll make sure. Now, lad, I’ve got a home to go to. Are you going to keep your mouth shut?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t talk to me. Don’t talk to Eiffel. Keep your head down. Now beat it.”

So Thomas walked up the rue de la Pompe. He supposed Jean Compagnon stayed in the shadows for a while. He didn’t look back.

The bargaining lasted three days. In the end, the men were given a bonus that would reach an extra four centimes a day. They were given waterproofs, and sheepskin clothes, and mulled wine to warm them up. Eiffel also set up a canteen on the first platform.

The men went back to work. Although Thomas was aware that he was regarded with suspicion, nobody gave him any trouble. During the month of October, the tower rose rapidly.

Thomas saw Édith regularly now. One Saturday night they went out with Pepe and his friend Anna, a pleasant, round-faced Italian girl, who took them to a little place that served Italian food, which neither Thomas nor Édith had ever eaten before. It was a good evening. He discovered that Pepe had a good voice and liked to sing Neapolitan songs.

Thomas would often kiss Édith. But so far at least, he had never had the chance to use the
capotes anglaises
that he sometimes secreted in his pocket. For Édith would never let him go all the way.

They went to see her aunt again. This time Édith’s mother was not there. Aunt Adeline probably wasn’t overjoyed to see him, but she didn’t show it. Monsieur Ney, however, chancing to look in again, welcomed Thomas politely and urged him, “Next time you visit, young man, do not forget to bring your little brother.”

So when, halfway through November, he and Édith agreed to meet the following Sunday at her aunt’s, he told her: “Say to Monsieur Ney that I will bring Luc with me.”

On Sunday, he met Luc near the Arc de Triomphe. As they walked down the avenue de la Grande-Armée, Luc was in a cheerful mood.

“I don’t know why Ney wants to see you,” Thomas admitted. “But I thought I’d better not disappoint him.”

“He has no particular reason,” Luc assured him. “Do you remember the giant squid that attacked the submarine in
Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea
?” One didn’t need to have read Jules Verne’s classic tale to remember the giant squid. Popular illustrations had made highlights of the story familiar to almost every child in France. “People like this
notaire
spread their tentacles out to catch anything they can. If he thinks it’s possible
I might be of use to him one day, he’ll want to get one of his tentacles around me, that’s all.”

“How would you be of use to him?” Thomas asked.

“Who knows? I’m just a young fellow who does things for people, and I don’t ask questions. That’s all he needs to know.” Luc smiled. “He’s right. I might do something for him one day. As long as he pays me.”

“If you say so, little brother,” said Thomas.

Édith met them at the door. She greeted them both, offered her cheek to Luc to kiss, as he was Thomas’s brother, and took them inside.

“Monsieur Ney is out, but he’s coming here shortly,” she told them. “But Mademoiselle Hortense is here. She’s calling on Madame Govrit, and my aunt says you should go up there to relieve her. Madame Govrit likes to see new people.”

The old lady was propped up in her handsome bed as usual. She had a lace cap on her head. On the bed lay some magazines that Mademoiselle Hortense had brought her, and as they entered, the lawyer’s daughter was sitting very upright, with perfect posture, on a chair beside the bed. Thomas and Luc bowed to them both politely. Madame Govrit stared at them.

“I remember you,” she said to Thomas. “Are you still building that monstrous tower?”

“Yes, madame. It’s my job. I’m sorry.”

The old lady gave a sniff.

“Well, you’d better come closer so I can hear you better. And who’s this?” She indicated Luc.

“My little brother, Luc, madame.”

“Is he building the tower too?”

“Non, madame.”

“I’m glad to hear it. He has more sense than you.” She looked appraisingly at Luc. “He’ll be very handsome, this one, don’t you think?” she remarked to Hortense. Hortense bowed her head slightly to indicate that it might be so. “He looks sly. I like him. Are you sly, young man?”

“I am whatever a lady likes me to be,” said Luc in his smoothest manner.

“Oh, what cheek!” exclaimed the old lady with delight. “What a young
villain.” She addressed Hortense again. “Do not marry the young one, my dear. He’ll lead you a dance. The older one looks more stable, I think. Not so amusing, but …” She shifted her gaze back to Luc. “Ah, but he has mischievous eyes.”

Mademoiselle Hortense slowly turned and looked at the two Gascon boys. Her eyes rested on Luc, but only briefly. Then she transferred them to Thomas.

Her eyes were a very deep brown. He hadn’t noticed before how dark they were. Almost chocolate. The color was deep, but the eyes gave nothing away. He could find no emotion in them, nor any expression on her long, pale face. She was wearing a fashionable riding habit, whose narrow waist and swelling line accentuated her small breasts. Even more than before, the pale lawyer’s daughter seemed to suggest erotic possibilities to him. She rose.

“I must leave you with these two young men, madame,” she said in a low voice. Yet as she passed him, Thomas thought that she paused, just for a moment, before moving to the door. And however absurdly, the thought came into his mind: Perhaps, if she liked him … after all, she must be nearly thirty, and wasn’t married yet … what a surprise for his family if, having turned down the daughter of La Veuve Michel, he were instead to waltz off with the heiress of rich Monsieur Ney, the
notaire
.

Luc meanwhile was wasting no time in amusing old Madame Govrit.

“Do you play cards, madame?”

“I used to, young man, but I haven’t any cards now.”

Luc reached into his pocket and produced two packs of cards.

“Tiens,”
she cried, “this young man has everything. You have two packs?”

“
Oui, madame
. Shall we play bezique?”

She clapped her hands with pleasure.

“Excellent.”

As bezique was played by two, Thomas contented himself with supplying a tray, which was placed on the bed, and with watching while the old lady and his brother played. He couldn’t tell whether Luc was letting her, but the old lady was taking more of the tricks and becoming quite animated. This continued very agreeably for almost half an hour. At the end of the game, the victorious lady gave them both a smile.

“That’s enough, young man,” she said to Luc. “But you have given me
great pleasure.” She nodded at Thomas. “I hope you have not been too bored, monsieur.”

“Not at all, madame. My little brother has too good an opinion of himself, so I like to see him defeated.”

“And what do you think of this tower your brother is building?” she asked Luc. “They say it is seen from all over Paris, but I can’t see it from my window.”

“It’s already taller than the highest cathedral spire in Europe,” Luc told her. “You can certainly see it from the avenue de la Grande-Armée.”

“I want to see it,” Madame Govrit declared. “I want to see it now. We still have a couple of hours of light. Will you young men take me to the avenue?”

“Certainly, madame,” said Luc. “It’s not far away.”

Madame Govrit turned to Thomas.

“Do me the kindness, young man,” she commanded, “to tell them that I wish to go out.”