Peaches for Monsieur Le Curé (29 page)

She gave her sad and hopeful smile. ‘When you say things like that, I almost believe that anything is possible.’

‘It is,’ I said. ‘Now come with me.’

We crossed the bridge into Les Marauds.

CHAPTER FOUR

Thursday, 26th August

I LOOKED INTO
the bright brown eyes that peered at me from behind the grille. I wondered what she could see of me – not much, by my guess – a pallid blur, an upheld hand glimpsed through slices of shadow. My first instinct was to cry out for help, but the girl was very young, and I feared she might run away if I startled her.

‘Maya. Don’t be afraid,’ I said in the gentlest voice I could manage.

She knelt to look closer inside the grille. I could see her knees on the gritty stone, and her socks above the pink wellingtons.

‘Are you a Jinni?’ she repeated. ‘Jinn live in holes.’

‘No, Maya, I’m not.’

‘So what are you doing down there?’ she said. ‘Did you do something bad? My
jiddo
says if you do something bad, the police can put you in prison.’

‘No, I didn’t do anything bad. Someone locked me in here.’

The eyes grew rounder. ‘You
are
a Jinni. You know my name and everything.’

I made my voice persuasively soft. ‘Please, Maya. Listen to me. I’m not a Jinn, and I haven’t done anything bad. But I
am
a prisoner. I need your help.’

She made a face. ‘A Jinni
would
say that. Jinn always lie.’

‘Please. I’m not lying.’ I heard the urgent sting in my voice and made an effort to soften it. ‘Please, Maya. Help me. Don’t you want to help me?’

Maya nodded doubtfully.

‘All right.’ I drew a deep breath. I had to think this out carefully. Of course I could have asked Maya to fetch one of her parents, but as yet I had no idea who was responsible for my incarceration, and the thought of having to explain myself to a group of
Maghrébins
who believed that I had set fire to their school was a little daunting, to say the least. But there was someone in Les Marauds who I knew would help me, if only I could get to her.

I reached out to Maya with my voice. ‘Do you know Vianne Rocher?’

She nodded. ‘Rosette’s
memti
,’ she said.

‘That’s right,’ I told her. ‘Go and find Vianne. Tell her I’m here. Tell her Reynaud’s here, and needs help.’

She seemed to consider this for a while. ‘Is that your name?’ she said at last.

‘Yes.’ Oh, God, give me patience. ‘Please. I’ve been down here since yesterday. The water’s rising. And there are rats.’

‘Rats?
Awesome!
’ Clearly the child has been spending too much time with Jean-Philippe Bonnet. I took another deep breath.
Breathe, Francis. Concentrate
.

‘I’ll give you anything you like. Toys, sweets. Just tell Vianne.’

She hesitated. ‘Anything I want?’ she said. ‘Like three wishes or something? Like in
Aladdin
?’

‘Anything!’

Once more, the child seemed lost in thought. Then she came to a decision.

‘OK,’ she said, and jumped to her feet. The candy-pink wellingtons shot into view. Tears of gratitude stung my eyes – or was it simply the dust from the street?

‘My first wish,’ said Maya through the grille, ‘is for you to make my
jiddo
well again. I’ll think of the other two later. Bye-bye, Jinni. See you soon.’

‘No, wait!’ I said. ‘Maya! Please! Listen to me!’

But the candy-pink boots had already gone.

I cursed to myself in Latin and French and climbed down from the packing crates. And then, just at that moment, as I stood ankle-deep in cold, filthy water, thinking that my situation could not possibly get any worse, I heard footsteps behind the cellar door.

Quickly I moved away from the crates. Then came the sound of a key in the lock. For a moment I considered surprising my captors and rushing the door, but this was only fantasy. In my current physical state, even a woman would have had no difficulty in pushing me back down the cellar steps.

The door opened. Three men appeared. Even in silhouette I recognized Karim Bencharki. The other two were younger men, I guessed two of the boys from the gym. Both of the boys were carrying torches, and Karim had a canister in his hand. I caught the smell of petrol.

‘You people never learn,’ said Karim.

I was still inside the whale.

CHAPTER FIVE

Thursday, 26th August

‘THIS IS A
misunderstanding,’ I said. ‘Let me out, and I’ll explain.’

Karim dropped the petrol can. I could tell by the sound it was empty. ‘Explain this, Monsieur le Curé. You had it when we caught you spying on my sister.’

‘That isn’t tr—’ I began to say. Then I remembered Sonia. That must be her petrol can. She’d dropped it when I accosted her. But she had confessed to me. How could I tell her husband?

‘I wasn’t spying on her,’ I said. It was a lie, and sounded it. ‘I was going to talk to her.’

‘Is that why you were hiding behind a tree?’

I started to tell another lie, but knew as I did so that it wouldn’t work. Some people are natural liars,
père
: I am not among them. I tried another tack. I said: ‘Let me ask you something, Karim. How long do you think you can keep me locked in here? Let me go right now, and I promise I won’t take any action against you.’

Looking at that in retrospect, I suppose I might have sounded just a little arrogant. One of the younger men spoke to Karim. Karim replied, sounding impatient. There followed a brief, rapid interchange in Arabic.

I started to feel nervous. ‘Look, you have to believe me,’ I said, addressing Karim directly. ‘I never tried to burn down the school. I’ve never attacked your sister. I’ve always tried to help her.’

Against the light in the doorway, Karim’s face was unreadable. But I sensed the hostility coming from him like static from a radio. Once more, he spoke to his friends. Then he spoke to me again.

‘What have you done with my sister-in-law?’

I was taken aback. ‘What?’

‘Alyssa Mahjoubi. Where is she? And why was she with you a week ago?’

I took a deep breath. ‘She’s safe,’ I said. ‘But that has nothing to do with me. She’s staying with a friend. Her choice. I had nothing to do with it.’

Karim gave the tiniest of nods. ‘I see. But Madame Clairmont says you were seen with a young woman at night, by the river.’

‘It wasn’t like that—’ I began.
God
, I thought,
that sounded weak
. ‘I happened upon her by accident. She was in trouble. I helped her. That’s all.’

‘Just as you helped my sister?’

I opened my mouth, but said nothing.

‘Monsieur le Curé,’ said Karim. ‘You have a reputation here. On more than one occasion, you have expressed your contempt for outsiders. Even your Père Henri says this. You are an intolerant man. You like to be in authority. You tried to stop the mosque from being built. You often speak out against the
niqab
. You once even tried to vandalize a chocolate shop that was opened in defiance of your religious traditions. I already know that you broke into her house last week. And now, we catch you sneaking around her boat with a can of petrol, on the very day you try to leave town—’

I started to laugh out of sheer nerves.

‘You think it’s funny?’ said Karim.

‘No. Of course not. But you’re wrong.’

Karim gave a scornful laugh. ‘I don’t think your Père Henri would agree. Now tell us where Alyssa is, and what you were doing here yesterday.’

I should have tried to stay calm,
mon père
. But instead I began to feel angry. ‘I don’t have to justify myself, to you or anyone else,’ I said. ‘Things were fine here till you arrived, you and your sister. Since then I’ve been threatened, assaulted, accused and kept down here against my will. I won’t let you intimidate me. As for Alyssa, I understand. You’re worried. Of course, she’s too young to leave home. And when you let me out of here, I promise we’ll all sit down together and try to find a solution—’

Once more Karim and his companions exchanged words in their guttural Arabic. Then he turned to me again.

‘Excuse me, Monsieur le Curé. I have a lot to do today. When I return, I hope we can talk.’

When I return?
My heart sank. I realized how much I’d been counting on the fact that he would let me go.

‘I don’t see what you think you can gain from keeping me here. Do you think you can make me confess? To
what
? Your sister-in-law’s in no danger, Karim. She’s staying with Vianne Rocher.’

A pause. ‘With Vianne Rocher?’

‘That’s right. Now—’

‘What did she tell you?’

‘Nothing at all. Now will you let me out of here?’

A longer pause. ‘I can’t,’ he said.

‘Why not?’ My anger had grown. ‘What the hell do you want from me?’

Karim took a step closer to me. Now I could see his face clearly, and I saw that what I had taken for calm was a quiet though nonetheless violent rage.

‘My sister, Inès, has gone missing,’ he said. ‘She and the child have been missing since I caught you yesterday, trying to burn the boat in which she and her daughter were sleeping. Of course, we could have called the police. But how sympathetic would they be? And so we will keep you here,
curé
, until you give us the answers we need.
Inshallah
, I am very much hoping that next time you will tell the truth.’

And at that he and his companions left, closing the door behind them. I heard the sound of a key in the lock.

I cursed, both in French and in Latin. And then I sat down on the steps and waited and hoped for Maya’s return, and wondered what I had done to God to make him punish me like this, thinking of coffee and fresh croissants, as above me the treadmill and running machines resumed their infernal pounding.

CHAPTER SIX

Thursday, 26th August

OUR FIRST PORT
of call in Les Marauds was the one place I thought I could be sure of finding a warm reception. But arriving at the al-Djerbas’ house, we found the dark-green shutters closed, and when Zahra opened the door she looked uneasy behind her
niqab
.

‘I’m sorry, my mother’s out,’ she said.

I explained we were looking for Reynaud, and asked if she had seen him.

She shook her head. Behind the veil, her colours were shot with turbulence.

‘How were the chocolate truffles?’ I said. ‘Did Omi like her coconut?’

‘Omi is also out,’ Zahra said.

I could see she was still looking troubled. Behind the veil her eyes were moving from me to Joséphine. ‘You’re sure you haven’t seen Reynaud? Or heard anything?’

She shook her head. ‘He is a friend of yours, is he not?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I suppose he is.’

‘Curious, that such a man should be the friend of such as you.’ Her voice was flat, giving nothing away, but under the veil she was all fire; her colours flared and shimmered.

‘It wasn’t always the case,’ I said. ‘In fact, you might say we were enemies. But that was a long, long time ago. Both of us have changed since then. And I found that the fear inside me belonged to
me
, and not to him, and only by letting it go could I be completely free.’

She thought about that for a moment. ‘You people. I don’t understand you at all. Always talking about freedom. Where I come from we believe that no one can ever truly be free. Allah sees everything, controls everything.’

‘Reynaud thinks that, too,’ I said.

‘But you don’t?’

I shook my head.

‘What about Shaitan?’

I shrugged. ‘I think there are plenty of human causes for the wrong that people do without bringing the devil into it. And I was brought up to believe that we should learn to control our own lives, write our own rules, and accept the consequences.’

She made a small, ambivalent sound. ‘How different from what we are taught,’ she said. ‘But if there are no rules, then how do you always know what to do?’

‘I don’t think
anyone
always knows,’ I said. ‘Sometimes, we make mistakes. But to follow rules without thinking, to do as we’re told, like children – I don’t think
that
idea comes from God. It comes from those who use God as an excuse to make others obey them. I don’t think God cares what we wear, what we eat; I don’t think He cares who we choose to love. And I don’t believe in a God who wants to test people to destruction, or to play with them like a little boy with an ant farm.’

I thought she might comment on that, but as she began to speak there came a sudden commotion behind her, and Maya came bounding out, carrying Tipo under her arm.

She looked at me with interest and said: ‘Is Rosette with you?’

‘Not today.’

She pulled a face. ‘But I’m so bored! Can’t I go out and play with Rosette? There’s something I want to show her.’ She gave Zahra a mischievous look. ‘A secret. Just for me and Rosette.’

Zahra frowned. ‘Maya, be good. Jiddo isn’t feeling well.’

The brown eyes widened. ‘But I—’

Zahra said something in Arabic.

Maya pulled another face. ‘He misses the cat,’ she told me. ‘When he lived with Uncle Saïd, the cat always came to sit with him. Maybe if we
brought
the cat—’

Zahra looked impatient. ‘It’s nothing to do with the cat,’ she said.

I saw a quarrel looming and intervened before it could erupt. ‘Why don’t I take Maya?’ I said. ‘Then you can all get some rest. I know exactly what it’s like to have a little girl in the house.’ I could see that Zahra was tempted. ‘Don’t worry. She’ll be with Rosette. I’ll bring her back before
iftar
.’

I could see her still considering it. Then she gave a sharp little nod, like a bird pecking at a nut. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘And now I must go. Thank you for coming to see us, Vianne.’

And at that the green door closed again, and the three of us were left outside, with the wind still whistling in the eaves, and the long shadow of the minaret reaching across the sunny street like the needle of a sundial.

Joséphine gave me a doubtful look. ‘I thought you said they were friends of yours.’

‘They are.’ I was puzzled. ‘Zahra seems a little upset. Perhaps she’s worried about old Mahjoubi.’

As we walked back down the boulevard, Maya running ahead of us, jumping in the puddles, I explained about the old man’s illness, and the estrangement between him and the rest of his family. I did not mention his warning to stay away from the water, or his dreams of myself and Inès. We passed the gym. As always, the door was slightly open and the scent of chlorine filtered through to mix with the scent of Les Marauds, that compound of dust,
kif
, cooking and the river. I noticed that Maya hurried past the mouth of the alley, but lingered in front of a passageway leading on to the boardwalk. An adult might have had difficulty passing between the buildings, but for Maya it would have been easy.

‘That’s where my Jinni lives,’ she said, indicating the passageway.

‘Really?’ I smiled. ‘You have a Jinni?’

‘Uh-huh. He gave me three wishes.’

‘Oh. And does he have a name?’

‘Foxy!’

‘That’s nice.’

I had to laugh. She reminds me so much of Anouk at five, with her vivid face and her brilliant smile, bouncing around in those bubblegum boots. Anouk, my little stranger, who unexpectedly one day came back from the woods with a rabbit called Pantoufle, which only the privileged few could see.

‘Kids, eh?’ said Joséphine.

‘Pilou’s very good with Rosette. You’d think he had a sister.’

She smiled. She lights up at his name. ‘You’ve seen what he’s like. Sweet through and through. You understand why I did what I did? I couldn’t stand to share him with Paul. Not when you know how Paul would have tried to fill his head with his own ideas.’

That was probably true, I thought. And yet, the boy is Paul’s only son. Who knows how fatherhood might have changed him?

She read my expression. ‘You think I was wrong.’

‘No, but—’

‘I know,’ she said. ‘It preys on me, too. At least it does when I’m feeling weak. When I’m strong I know better. Pilou deserves better than Paul-Marie.’

‘You say he changed your life, Joséphine – doesn’t Paul deserve the same chance?’

Stubbornly, she shook her head. ‘You know what he’s like. He’d never change.’

‘Anyone can change,’ I said.

As we reached the end of the street I wondered if that was really true. Some people cannot be mended. But what had it done to Paul-Marie, to share a home with the little boy he believed was the son of a rival? I thought of his bright and baleful eyes, the rage and hopelessness of his mouth. He looks like an animal caught in a trap, snapping at anyone who comes close. Of course, I am not naïve enough to believe that a man like Paul-Marie would melt at the news that he has a son. But doesn’t he deserve a chance? And what has that lie done to Joséphine?

We reached the end of the boulevard. The last time I had come this way, Inès Bencharki’s houseboat had been moored alongside the jetty. Now, I noticed, it had gone; only a neat little coil of rope remained to show where it had been. I saw Joséphine’s eyes widen. Yes, of course, the boat was hers, although she rarely used it.

‘You mean that woman was living there?’ she said, when I began to explain. ‘How dare she break into
my
boat? And where the hell has she taken it?’

I didn’t know. I stood on the jetty and scanned the riverbank. There was no sign of the black houseboat, either on the side of Les Marauds or on that of Lansquenet. Could Inès have left for good? There are only a few safe places here to moor a riverboat of that size, and right now, with the floodwater, the swollen Tannes is at its least forgiving. In addition, Joséphine’s boat has no working engine, so the best Inès could hope for would be to drift with the current downriver, and maybe find another place in Chavigny or Pont-le-Saôul. Why had she gone? Had she taken Du’a? And when – if at all – did she mean to return?

And then I saw something on the bank, half trodden into the muddy grass. It was a necklace, I thought at first; a little string of green glass beads, connected by a silver chain. Perhaps Du’a had dropped it, I thought as I picked it up – and then I saw the crucifix at the end of the chain—

‘It’s a rosary.’

Joséphine came to look. ‘This belongs to Reynaud,’ she said. ‘I’ve seen it on his mantelpiece. What do you think he was doing here? Do you think
he
took my boat?’

I shook my head. ‘I have no idea. I assumed Inès had.’ Could she still be in Les Marauds? If so, did she know where he was?

I tried asking Maya, to no avail. She seemed more concerned about Du’a than about the boat’s disappearance, mostly because of the puppies that she and the others were keeping in the old
chocolaterie
.

Joséphine raised an eyebrow. ‘What?’

Maya clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘I wasn’t supposed to tell,’ she said. ‘Snappy and Biter. We’re hiding them there. Monsieur Acheron wanted to drown them.’

‘You think Du’a might still be there?’

Joséphine shrugged. ‘It’s worth a try.’