meet girls, attractive or otherwise. But he had beautiful manners and once his blushing was under control, he was as proud as a
pasha when escorting the four of them. Playing such an important part in what the other girls at l’Hirondelle enviously christened “the Set” also meant that Nick soon lost the
bashfulness of an only child and the agonised self-doubt of a British teenage male.
The girls knew that they would eventually meet other boys once the weekly dances started in mid-November, but despite Nick, they were sometimes restless and thirsty for adventure.
“Maybe we could sneak out the back door one night and go to some divine nightclub, somewhere like the Gringo,” Pagan said with a yawn one Sunday afternoon, after an enormous banana
split.
Nick looked up sharply and brushed his black hair back from his face. “You’d better be careful, you know. You’ll get expelled if you’re caught . . . and there’s
something else.” He blushed. “Something nasty. You know old Chardin’s driver, Paul?”
“Yes, the chauffeur,” said Kate.
“No, he’s a
driver,
” Pagan corrected. “Unless you’re speaking French, a chauffeur is someone you hire for the evening. A driver is in your permanent
employ.”
“Whatever you call it, you all know what I mean. Well, Chardin is a . . . er . . . homosexual and his . . . er . . .
friend
is Paul. I know it’s true because Paul is also
carrying on behind Chardin’s back with one of the chefs at the Imperial.” He turned even pinker. “The next bit is just a strong rumour, but I’ve heard it several times. You
all
know that what Chardin really loves is money.”
Everyone nodded.
“Well, it’s rumoured around town that if a girl is caught outside the school with a boy, she’s immediately expelled—unless her father pays hush money to avoid the
disgrace. The girl might just have been out for a lark, nothing serious, but Chardin exaggerates to parents over the long-distance telephone. It’s always her word against Chardin’s, and
the girl has to admit that she got out, so the parents usually believe the worst and pay up.”
“I can’t believe it!”
“How do you know?”
“Do people realise he’s homosexual?”
“All the waiters around here know that Chardin’s queer,” said Nick. “For years he’s had handsome male drivers when he doesn’t need a driver at all.
There’s a bar at the back of town called Le Cous Cous—some pretty odd types hang out there—
I
wouldn’t walk into the place, I can tell you!”
“But wouldn’t he be afraid of being blackmailed?” Pagan asked.
“If the blackmail stories are true, then Chardin is playing a dangerous game, but it isn’t as dangerous as it might seem. He picks his victims carefully. And there are plenty to
choose from. You don’t suppose for one minute that he couldn’t
stop
girls from getting out at night if he wanted to, do you? The parents of the girl are always a long way off in
another country, and they’re rich. Chardin never asks for sums they can’t easily afford. I believe the lowest rate is an extra year’s tuition. On the whole, the parents can easily
afford to pay their way out of a minor scandal, and because they’re all from different countries, none of them are in touch with each other, so there’s no danger of their meeting
up.”
The girls hung on his words, fascinated by these awesome, wicked possibilities. “So for heaven’s sake be careful,” Nick continued. “Just in case any of these rumours are
true. I know it’s gossip, but I
keep
hearing the same thing on the hotel grapevine. And that’s not all. Some fellows say that Paul is bisexual.”
There was a pause while Nick explained what bisexual meant. By now he was blushing fiercely and wished he hadn’t started, but he was also enjoying this flattering attention.
“It’s said that if a very rich girl gets out at night and she’s caught by Chardin, then she might be . . .
pasha when escorting the four of them. Playing such an important part in what the other girls at l’Hirondelle enviously christened “the Set” also meant that Nick soon lost the
bashfulness of an only child and the agonised self-doubt of a British teenage male.
The girls knew that they would eventually meet other boys once the weekly dances started in mid-November, but despite Nick, they were sometimes restless and thirsty for adventure.
“Maybe we could sneak out the back door one night and go to some divine nightclub, somewhere like the Gringo,” Pagan said with a yawn one Sunday afternoon, after an enormous banana
split.
Nick looked up sharply and brushed his black hair back from his face. “You’d better be careful, you know. You’ll get expelled if you’re caught . . . and there’s
something else.” He blushed. “Something nasty. You know old Chardin’s driver, Paul?”
“Yes, the chauffeur,” said Kate.
“No, he’s a
driver,
” Pagan corrected. “Unless you’re speaking French, a chauffeur is someone you hire for the evening. A driver is in your permanent
employ.”
“Whatever you call it, you all know what I mean. Well, Chardin is a . . . er . . . homosexual and his . . . er . . .
friend
is Paul. I know it’s true because Paul is also
carrying on behind Chardin’s back with one of the chefs at the Imperial.” He turned even pinker. “The next bit is just a strong rumour, but I’ve heard it several times. You
all
know that what Chardin really loves is money.”
Everyone nodded.
“Well, it’s rumoured around town that if a girl is caught outside the school with a boy, she’s immediately expelled—unless her father pays hush money to avoid the
disgrace. The girl might just have been out for a lark, nothing serious, but Chardin exaggerates to parents over the long-distance telephone. It’s always her word against Chardin’s, and
the girl has to admit that she got out, so the parents usually believe the worst and pay up.”
“I can’t believe it!”
“How do you know?”
“Do people realise he’s homosexual?”
“All the waiters around here know that Chardin’s queer,” said Nick. “For years he’s had handsome male drivers when he doesn’t need a driver at all.
There’s a bar at the back of town called Le Cous Cous—some pretty odd types hang out there—
I
wouldn’t walk into the place, I can tell you!”
“But wouldn’t he be afraid of being blackmailed?” Pagan asked.
“If the blackmail stories are true, then Chardin is playing a dangerous game, but it isn’t as dangerous as it might seem. He picks his victims carefully. And there are plenty to
choose from. You don’t suppose for one minute that he couldn’t
stop
girls from getting out at night if he wanted to, do you? The parents of the girl are always a long way off in
another country, and they’re rich. Chardin never asks for sums they can’t easily afford. I believe the lowest rate is an extra year’s tuition. On the whole, the parents can easily
afford to pay their way out of a minor scandal, and because they’re all from different countries, none of them are in touch with each other, so there’s no danger of their meeting
up.”
The girls hung on his words, fascinated by these awesome, wicked possibilities. “So for heaven’s sake be careful,” Nick continued. “Just in case any of these rumours are
true. I know it’s gossip, but I
keep
hearing the same thing on the hotel grapevine. And that’s not all. Some fellows say that Paul is bisexual.”
There was a pause while Nick explained what bisexual meant. By now he was blushing fiercely and wished he hadn’t started, but he was also enjoying this flattering attention.
“It’s said that if a very rich girl gets out at night and she’s caught by Chardin, then she might be . . .
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