Read Online Julius by Daphne du Maurier - Free Book Online Page B

without a word and took hold of her. She held out her hands to defend herself, she retreated backwards to the wall.
    ‘No,’ she called out. ‘No . . . No ...’
    Père put his hands round her throat, he bent her underneath him, and she curved strangely, her legs twisting. Père’s hands tightened round her throat, her face grew purple, she choked and coughed, and her eyes became big and startled.
    ‘Go on, go on,’ shouted Julius, ‘it serves her right, it serves her right. Go on, hurt her, squeeze her.’
    Père could swing Mère backwards and forwards now as though she were a dummy thing. Her shoes fell off, and her heels drummed on the floor. She choked hideously, the noise she made was terrible.With her bent body and her popping eyes she looked ugly.
    ‘Go on, go on,’ shouted Julius.
    Then Père dropped her suddenly, she fell heavily on to the floor, her legs spread open. Her tongue came out of her mouth and her face was black. She lay very still. Her lips were parted over her teeth. She looked like a rabbit that Grandpère had strangled once in the fields outside Puteaux. Père sat down in a chair, he was breathing heavily. He wiped the sweat from his forehead. Julius touched Mère with his foot. She did not move.
    ‘I shouldn’t be surprised if you’ve killed her,’ he said.
    Père did not say a word. He got up from his chair after a while and poured some water into a basin. Then he dipped his face inside, he dipped his whole head. Some of the water ran down his neck and underneath his tunic.
    ‘I expect you feel warm,’ said Julius.
    Père wiped the water away from his face with a towel. He poured some of it into a glass and drank it as though he were very thirsty. Then he stood and looked down at Mère on the floor.
    ‘Is she dead?’ asked Julius.
    ‘Yes,’ said Père
    Julius wondered what he should say. It really served Mère right. She deserved to die after going with Jacques Tripet. He could understand why Père had killed her. He didn’t want his thing to be spoilt. He would not allow anyone else to have it.
    Julius knew it had hurt Père very much to kill her, but there had been nothing else to do. He would be very, very unhappy, but it was the only way out. Julius knew - Julius understood. He had thrown his cat into the Seine so that nobody else ever in the world would be able to feed her and stroke her little body. Père had killed Mère for the same reason.
    ‘It’s really a good thing she is dead, don’t you think?’ said Julius.
    ‘Yes,’ said Père.
    ‘I mean, you couldn’t have gone with her again, could you?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Her face looks awful, shall I cover it up?’
    ‘Yes - put the blanket over her.’
    Julius took the blanket from the mattress and arranged it neatly over Mère’s body. ‘It’s still a bit early for me to feel sorry she is dead,’ he thought. ‘I haven’t given up being angry with her yet.’
    Père looked very weary and strange. His face was still the colour of a sheet. Julius felt old and grown up, he wanted to look after Père.
    ‘I expect this business has made you tired,’ he said; ‘why don’t you lie down on the mattress and go to sleep? Sleep will do you good. After I had thrown my little Mimitte into the Seine I was glad to lie down that evening and go to sleep.’
    ‘I’m all right,’ said Père. He sat down again, he seemed queer. Julius went and leant against his knee.
    ‘You’re bound to feel sad at first—’ he said. ‘I suffered so much when I killed my Mimitte I felt I could not talk to anybody. Even now I cry sometimes at night when I go to bed. I miss stroking her warm fur and feeling her paws on my face. I expect you will miss going with Mère. But it can’t be helped, can it? It is better for her to be dead than for other people to have her.’
    He leant his cheek against Père’s face.
    ‘I shall miss her badly, too,’ he said. ‘When I’ve stopped being angry, I shall cry.’
    Père hugged him tightly, so