We'll meet again

I must be.

I sat in the bedroom I shared with him. I heard footsteps in the attic above. I thought, when she left I would speak to him.

I waited and after some time I heard the front door shut.

I would go to the salon and confront him. But when I arrived the salon was empty. I went up to the studio. He was not there and I realized he had left with Mimi. I felt uncertain. Waiting had always been trying for me. I wanted to strike quickly. I wanted to be on my way.

Where to? That was the question.

I rehearsed what I would say to him. I was ready and waiting, but still he did not come back.

He did not return that night. Was he with Mimi? It seemed possible.

Perhaps there was someone else. But surely he was staying away to show he cared nothing for my feelings.

It was early afternoon of the next day when he came into the house.

I waited for him in the salon. When he came I said with the utmost restraint, tinged only slightly with sarcasm, "You have had a pleasant time?”

"Very, thank you.”

"With Mimi, the model?”

"Is that your affair?”

"I imagine it is yours.”

He lifted his shoulders and smiled at me benignly.

"Are you telling me she is your mistress?”

"I did not speak of it," he said.

"Listen, Jacques.

He continued to smile. "I listen," he said.

"You can't expect me to accept this.”

He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

This was maddening. He was behaving as though it were perfectly natural for me to find him in the company of a semiclad woman and then go off to spend the night with her. I could be calm no longer.

"This is unacceptable!" I cried.

"Unacceptable?" He repeated the word as though puzzled. "Why so?”

"How dare you neat me like this?”

"Treat? What is this neat?”

He was seeking refuge behind an imperfect knowledge of the language. I had seen him do this before. But I knew he understood.

"I left home," I said, "to come here... and now...”

"You left your home because you no longer wanted to stay there.”

"I gave up everything... for you.”

"You are being very... provincial.”

"And you are so worldly, so sophisticated.”

"I thought you had grown up, too.”

"How can you do this... right under my nose?”

"Your nose?" he said, puzzled again.

"You know exactly what I mean. You make no secret of what is going on.”

"Secret? What is this secret?”

"She is your mistress.”

"So?”

I could not go on. I would burst into recriminations if I did, and that would not help me.

"I hate you," I said.

He lifted his shoulders and regarded me with that benevolent tolerance an adult might show towards a recalcitrant child.

I could bear no more. I ran out of the room, took a coat and left the house.

There was only one place I could go. Janet Bailey had said: "You know where we are, dear. You can always come to us and we shall be glad to see you.”

I was so relieved to find she was at home.

"I am so glad you came," she said at once. "Geoff and I are getting ready to leave.”

I stared at her in dismay. This was another blow. What should I do now?

"Come in," she went on. "And I'll tell you all about it.”

I sat down in a daze.

"Cup of tea?" she asked.

"Tell me about your going first," I said.

"It's on company advice ... well, orders, more like. It's the way things are going. They're sure there'll be war. They think it's better for us to get home. All the English staff will be leaving and the office will be run by French employees. Heaven knows what will happen!

Anyway, we'll be leaving.”

"When?" I stammered.

"In a few days. Just time to get ourselves together.”

"Oh," I said blankly. Then she noticed something was wrong.

"What is it?" she said, and I blurted out what had happened.

"You can't stay with him!”

"No ... but what can I do?”

"You'll have to go home. Why not come with us? We'll talk to Geoff about it. He should be home in a couple of hours. Things are in a whirl at the office. They're all saying Hitler won't stop at Poland and then the balloon will go up. It will be a stampede getting back once it's started.”

I was seeing a way out. I could go with them. They would help me.

Janet went on as though reading my thoughts.

"Yes, you must come with us. I am sure that will be the best for you.”

"How can I go home?”

"You'll have to make a clean breast of it, dear. There's no help for it.”

"Oh ... I couldn't do that.”

"What then? Stay here? Have you any money?”

"I haven't bothered much about money. I have a little at the moment.

Jacques always seemed to have plenty and he was quite generous. He liked me to buy clothes and things. I still have most of the last lot he gave me. I think he had a private income. I don't believe he earned much with his paintings. That was one of the reasons I found life in the Latin Quarter so different from what I expected it to be.

I've spent hardly anything recently. I suppose it was due to this growing resentment against him. Perhaps I had some notion of getting home. I am not sure. My plans are so vague.”

I could not remember how much I had, but I thought it would pay my fare home.