Benjamin
and Madeleine have been particularly noisy this weekend, banging on
my door, demanding to come in. Solange was outside yesterday, weeding
the pathway when I overheard her shouting at Benjamin, ordering him
go back indoors. When she brought him over for his piano lesson
today, she told me he'd been caught drawing on the kitchen wall and
that Pieter was very annoyed with him. She left him with me, giving
him strict instructions to behave. He nodded and smiled sweetly up at
her.
We
ran through Au Clair de La Lune from his music book and for the first
five minutes he concentrated. After that he started running around
the cottage, crawling along the carpet and leaping on and off the
sofa. I could see we weren't going to get anywhere so I took him back
next door. Solange said they were going out for the afternoon, as it
was her mother's 75th birthday. Ann-Sofie who in the kitchen I
invited her for dinner, saying Celine was coming and was keen to ask
her about illustrations for her book.
When
Celine arrived, she was holding something which she passed to me,
telling me to read it carefully. It was an envelope written with her
name and address. Inside was a formal wedding invitation, printed on
cream card with a border of roses.
As
a joke, I asked if I was invited too. Celine snatched the card from
me and read it out loud. The wedding was to be held on 31st July at
St. Jean Baptiste Church at Pouy-Sur-Vannes between Adele Marchent
and Jacques Ditronc. I laughed and told Celine this was great news as
we wouldn't be bothered by Adele following us around any more. Celine
was far from happy. She insisted this was not a normal wedding
invitation, and asked me why I thought Adele would send this to her.
I couldn't see why this mattered. I admitted it was an odd thing for
Adele to send, but at least now she would be someone else's problem.
I went to the fridge, took out the bottle of wine Paul had given me
to celebrate his baby's birth and poured out two glasses. Raising my
glass I made a toast: No More Adele! But Celine wasn't having it. She
sighed and shook her head. She asked me if I recognised the man's
name. I told her I couldn't care less who he was, and couldn't
understand why she thought I should be interested. She looked at me,
clearly irritated, handed me the card and told me to read the name.
Jacques Dutronc. It meant nothing to me. I conjured up an image of a
respectable business man, solid and dependable. I felt only sympathy
for him, whoever he is. Celine was questioning me again, asking me if
I was certain I didn't recognise the name. I insisted It meant
nothing to me. She told me it was name of the actor who plays Van
Gogh in the 1992 film of the same name. I asked if she was sure and
wondered if the name could be a coincidence. But then I remembered
Adele had been keen on Van Gogh's paintings and fascinated by his
life. This all made sense. I explained this to Celine who said Adele
must be using her to send me a message. If she is, I don't know what
the message is. The whole situation is just ridiculous. Why pretend
she's getting married? She must be completely insane. Celine is very
concerned by the fact that Adele knows where she lives, but what can
we do?
We
were still discussing all this when Ann-Sofie arrived. Celine asked
if she would be interested in illustrating her book, explaining that
it was all about myths and legends. Ann-Sofie was very enthusiastic
and went next door to get her sketch pad. By the time she'd returned
we'd been through another fruitless discussion about Adele and her
wedding invitation. It was a relief to change the subject. Ann-Sofie
showed Celine her sketches, including the one of Marie's twin
brothers. Celine asked if she could draw three creatures, the Nain,
the Goric and the Ankou. Ann-Sofie scribbled notes whilst Celine gave
a brief description of each of them. I remembered the Nain resemble
gargoyles and have feline claws and devil type hooves. They are dark
and small creatures with gleaming red eyes who speak with harsh
rasping voices. They haunt ancient dolmens where they dance around,
chanting the days of the weeks (except for Saturday and Sunday, which
are sacred protected days and cannot be spoken of). Ann-Sofie was
making notes and I listened to Celine's descriptions. The Goric are
dwarves who inhabit druid monuments or hide beneath ancient castles.
Every night they dance around the stones of Carnac and, if a human
interrupts them, he would be forced to join in until he dies from
exhaustion. When they're not dancing they guard hidden treasure and,
rumour has it, that a golden hoard lies beneath one of the Menhirs
of Carnac. Ankou, is a spirit, who takes the form of a skeleton and
collects the souls of the dead. He travels around Brittany in a cart
pulled by horses and wears a large black hat to hide his face.
Ann-Sofie
sketched as she listened to these stories, and Celine said she would
particularly like a picture of the dwarves dancing around the
Menhirs. She also asked her about the myths of Sweden.
Ann-Sofie
explained that trolls originated in Norse mythology, appearing in
both Sweden and Norway, as do dwarves and elves. She told us the
story of Huldra. a troll woman living in the woods. She's fair and
beautiful but has a long cow like tale which she hides when she meets
people. She's not evil, unlike Nokken, a mysterious water spirit who
resides in lakes and ponds. He's a handsome young man and talented
musician who plays his violin throughout the night and entices woman
to their deaths. Ann-Sofie is a born storyteller, and obviously loves
talking about her homeland. Soon after dinner (tomato and caramelised
onion tartin served with salad) Ann-Sofie left, as she has a test at
the language School early in the morning.
Celine
and I discussed the drawings, but it wasn't long before we returned
to the subject of Adele and the invitation. I said we should ignore
the whole incident, as she's clearly looking for a reaction. Celine
said that it's easy for me to talk and pointed out that she's the one
being targeted. She was subdued when she left. Maybe I'm dismissing
Adele's behaviour too easily. But I really don't
see what we can do.
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