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Evoking her first communion was really an allusion to all that
and, she soon realized in a dumb shock, to the fact that she was finally
going to separate from Jacques today. While Liz and her were buying a
ripe pineapple and some starfruit, how expensive, but it wasn’t often,
she quietly said to herself: “It’s over.” Nobody heard it, not even herself,
it seemed, nothing moved, the practical conversations, the tears of illbred
children after they were punished for breaking a jar of pickles or
eating a bar of Violet Crumble before its was paid for, the beeping and
purring of electronic cash registers, the soft background music and
today’s exceptional rebates on dishwashing powder, all the sounds of
crude reality were going on unchanged. For the first time in her life, she
was part of reality too, and if it was so, nobody would notice that she
had become another woman, at the office on Monday morning.
Not on Monday: she would have to take the day off to look for
a flat (Ha, they would never buy the pink house opposite Wandal, after
all). In the meantime she could stay with Anne-Marie... No, Anne-Marie
did not need to be informed before she had moved for good; she would
ask Peggy, a widow with a large house, to lend her a spare room. The
thought crossed her mind that she would miss Joël, and Joël would miss
her too; they had never discussed Matilda, but she was sure he shared her
resentment against all she represented: something like sweeping ocean
views from a clearing in the woods, just after midday, when a pale blue
veil of steam was draping the remote hills and the earth wanted to be
left alone.
LE SAMEDI MATIN, Jacques se réveilla plus tôt que de coutume,
bien qu’il eût mal dormi, d’un sommeil entrecoupé
d’images irrépressibles et d’angoisses respiratoires, à cause
de l’orage et de la rencontre de la veille. La radio disait qu’il y avait eu
des averses violentes un peu partout sur Sydney à partir de huit heures
du soir, mais il allait faire beau le reste du week-end. Curieusement il
n’avait plu ni à Manly quand il y était avec Kathy, ni sur le chemin du
retour. Il se sentait plein d’une vitalité provisoire, d’une espèce d’impatience
qui n’était plus ni espoir ni projet, car son accomplissement n’eût
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