Read Online Bonjour Tristesse by Françoise Sagan - Free Book Online
Authors: Françoise Sagan
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he's a nice boy."
I raised my head, scenting danger.
"But what is he up to?" said my father. "He's not coming in after all. Ah! He's not alone."
Anne had also turned to look. The boat was going to pass right in front of us before tacking. I could make out Cyril's face. Silently I prayed that he would go away, but I could already hear my father's exclamation of surprise:
"But it's Elsa! What on earth is she doing there?"
He turned to Anne: "That girl is extraordinary! She must already have got her claws into that poor boy and made the old lady accept her."
But Anne was not listening; she was watching me. I saw her and hid my face in the sand to cover my shame. She put out her hand and touched my neck:
"Look at me. Are you angry with me?"
I opened my eyes. She bent over me anxiously and almost imploringly. For the first time she was treating me as a sensible, thinking person, and just on the day when ... I groaned and jerked my head round towards my father to free myself from that hand. He was watching the boat.
"My poor child," Anne was saying in a low voice. "Poor little Cécile! I'm afraid it is all my fault. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so hard on you. I never wanted to hurt you, do you believe me?"
She gently stroked my hair and neck. I kept quite still. I had the same feeling as when a receding wave dragged the sand away beneath me. Neither anger nor desire had ever worked so strongly in me as my longing at that moment for utter defeat. My one wish was to give up all my plans and put myself entirely into her hands for the rest of my life. I had never before been so overcome with a sense of my utter impotence. I closed my eyes. It seemed to me that my heart stopped beating.
4
So far my father had shown no feeling other than surprise. The maid told him that Elsa had been to fetch her suitcase, but said nothing about our conversation. Being a peasant woman with a romantic turn of mind, she must have relished the various changes that had taken place in our household since she had been with us, especially in the bedrooms.
My father and Anne, in their effort to make amends, were so kind to me that at first I found it unbearable. However, I soon changed my mind, for even though I had brought it on myself, I did not find it very agreeable to see Cyril and Elsa walking about arm-in-arm, showing every sign of pleasure in each other's company. I could no longer go sailing myself, but I could watch Elsa as she passed by; her hair blown by the wind, as mine used to be. It was easy enough for me to look unconcerned when we met, as we did at every corner: in the wood, in the village, and on the road. Anne would glance at me, start a new topic of conversation, and put her hand on my shoulder to comfort me. Have I ever mentioned how kind she was? Whether her kindness emanated from her intelligence, or was merely part of her detachment, I do not know, but she had an unerring instinct for the right word, and if I had really been unhappy, I could hardly have found better support.
As my father gave no signs of jealousy, I was not unduly worried, and allowed things to drift; but while it proved to me how fond he was of Anne, I felt rather annoyed that my plan had misfired. One day he and I were on our way to the post-office when we passed Elsa. She pretended not to see us, and my father turned round after her with a whistle of surprise, as if she had been a stranger: "I say! Hasn't she become a beauty!" "Love seems to agree with her," I remarked. He looked rather astonished: "You're taking it very well, I must say!"
"What can one do? They're the same age. I suppose it was inevitable."
"If Anne hadn't come along, it wouldn't have been inevitable at all!" he said angrily. "You don't think I'd let a boy like that snatch a woman from me without my consent?"
"All the same, age tells!" I said solemnly. He shrugged his shoulders. On the way back I noticed he was preoccupied: perhaps he was thinking that both Cyril and Elsa were
I raised my head, scenting danger.
"But what is he up to?" said my father. "He's not coming in after all. Ah! He's not alone."
Anne had also turned to look. The boat was going to pass right in front of us before tacking. I could make out Cyril's face. Silently I prayed that he would go away, but I could already hear my father's exclamation of surprise:
"But it's Elsa! What on earth is she doing there?"
He turned to Anne: "That girl is extraordinary! She must already have got her claws into that poor boy and made the old lady accept her."
But Anne was not listening; she was watching me. I saw her and hid my face in the sand to cover my shame. She put out her hand and touched my neck:
"Look at me. Are you angry with me?"
I opened my eyes. She bent over me anxiously and almost imploringly. For the first time she was treating me as a sensible, thinking person, and just on the day when ... I groaned and jerked my head round towards my father to free myself from that hand. He was watching the boat.
"My poor child," Anne was saying in a low voice. "Poor little Cécile! I'm afraid it is all my fault. Perhaps I shouldn't have been so hard on you. I never wanted to hurt you, do you believe me?"
She gently stroked my hair and neck. I kept quite still. I had the same feeling as when a receding wave dragged the sand away beneath me. Neither anger nor desire had ever worked so strongly in me as my longing at that moment for utter defeat. My one wish was to give up all my plans and put myself entirely into her hands for the rest of my life. I had never before been so overcome with a sense of my utter impotence. I closed my eyes. It seemed to me that my heart stopped beating.
4
So far my father had shown no feeling other than surprise. The maid told him that Elsa had been to fetch her suitcase, but said nothing about our conversation. Being a peasant woman with a romantic turn of mind, she must have relished the various changes that had taken place in our household since she had been with us, especially in the bedrooms.
My father and Anne, in their effort to make amends, were so kind to me that at first I found it unbearable. However, I soon changed my mind, for even though I had brought it on myself, I did not find it very agreeable to see Cyril and Elsa walking about arm-in-arm, showing every sign of pleasure in each other's company. I could no longer go sailing myself, but I could watch Elsa as she passed by; her hair blown by the wind, as mine used to be. It was easy enough for me to look unconcerned when we met, as we did at every corner: in the wood, in the village, and on the road. Anne would glance at me, start a new topic of conversation, and put her hand on my shoulder to comfort me. Have I ever mentioned how kind she was? Whether her kindness emanated from her intelligence, or was merely part of her detachment, I do not know, but she had an unerring instinct for the right word, and if I had really been unhappy, I could hardly have found better support.
As my father gave no signs of jealousy, I was not unduly worried, and allowed things to drift; but while it proved to me how fond he was of Anne, I felt rather annoyed that my plan had misfired. One day he and I were on our way to the post-office when we passed Elsa. She pretended not to see us, and my father turned round after her with a whistle of surprise, as if she had been a stranger: "I say! Hasn't she become a beauty!" "Love seems to agree with her," I remarked. He looked rather astonished: "You're taking it very well, I must say!"
"What can one do? They're the same age. I suppose it was inevitable."
"If Anne hadn't come along, it wouldn't have been inevitable at all!" he said angrily. "You don't think I'd let a boy like that snatch a woman from me without my consent?"
"All the same, age tells!" I said solemnly. He shrugged his shoulders. On the way back I noticed he was preoccupied: perhaps he was thinking that both Cyril and Elsa were
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