Bonjour Tristesse by Françoise Sagan Read Free Book Online Page A

long enough to stop my nervous tremor.
    "Don't complicate life for yourself," she said. "You've always been so contented and lively, and had no head for anything serious. It doesn't suit you to be pensive and sad."
    "I know that," I answered. "I'm just a thoughtless healthy young thing, brimful of gaiety and stupidity!"
    "Come and have lunch," she said.
    My father had moved away from us; he detested that sort of discussion. On the way back he took my hand and held it. His hand was firm and comforting: it had dried my tears after my first disappointment in love, it had closed over mine in moments of tranquility and perfect happiness, it had stealthily pressed mine at times of complicity or riotous laughter. I thought of his hand on the steering wheel, or holding the keys at night and searching in vain for the lock; his hand on a woman's shoulder, or holding a cigarette, the hand that could do nothing more for me. I gave it a hard squeeze. Turning towards me, he smiled.
     
    2
    Two days went by: I went round in circles, I wore myself out, but I could not free myself from the haunting thought that Anne was about to wreck our lives. I did not try to see Cyril; he would have comforted me and made me happier, but that was not what I wanted. I even got a certain satisfaction from asking myself insoluble questions, by reminding myself of days gone by, and dreading those to come. It was very hot; my room was in semi-darkness with the shutters closed, but even so the air was unbearably heavy and damp. I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling, hardly moving except to search for a cool place on the sheet. I did not sleep, but played records on the gramophone at the foot of my bed. I chose slow rhythms, without any tune. I smoked a good deal and felt decadent, which gave me pleasure. But I was not deluded by this game of pretence: I was sad and bewildered.
    One afternoon the maid knocked at my door and announced with an air of mystery: "Someone's downstairs." I at once thought of Cyril and went down. It was not Cyril, but Elsa. She greeted me effusively. Looking at her, I was astonished at her new beauty. She was tanned at last, evenly and smoothly, and was carefully made up and brilliantly youthful.
    "I've come to fetch my suitcase," she explained. "Juan bought me a few dresses, but not enough, and I need my things."
    I wondered for a moment who Juan could be, but did not enquire further. I was pleased Elsa had come back. She brought with her the aura of a kept woman, of bars, of gay evenings, which reminded me of happier days. I told her how glad I was to see her again, and she assured me that we had always got on so well together because we had common interests. I suppressed a slight shudder and suggested that we should go up to my room to avoid meeting Anne and my father. When I mentioned my father she made an involuntary movement with her head, and I wondered whether perhaps she was still in love with him, in spite of Juan and the dresses. I also thought that three weeks before I would not have noticed that movement of hers.
    In my room I listened while she described in glowing terms her smart and dizzy life in the fashionable places along the Riviera. A strange confusion of thoughts went through my head, partly suggested by her different appearance. At last she stopped talking, perhaps because I was silent. She took a few steps across the room, and without turning round asked in an off-hand way if Raymond was happy. In a moment I knew what I must say to her:
    "'Happy' is saying too much! Anne doesn't give him a chance to think otherwise. She is very clever."
    "Very!" sighed Elsa.
    "You'll never guess what she's persuaded him to do . . . she's going to marry him. ..."
    Elsa turned a horrified face towards me:
    "Marry him? Raymond actually wants to get married?"
    "Yes," I answered. "Raymond is going to be married."
    A sudden desire to laugh caught me by the throat. My hands were shaking. Elsa seemed prostrated, almost as if I had given