Germinal - Emile Zola [94]
Jeanlin was the first to slip off. Bébert was waiting for him behind the school. They had to prowl about for a long time before they could entice Lydie away with them, because La Brûlé had decided not to go out and wanted to keep her at home. When she discovered that the child had gone, she screamed and waved her skinny arms about, while Pierron, irritated by the racket, quietly took himself off for a stroll with the air of a husband unabashedly having his own little bit of fun in the full knowledge that his wife is having hers.
Old Bonnemort was the next to leave, and Maheu decided that he, too, would get a breath of air, having first asked La Maheude if she would join him later at the fair. No, how could she, it was such a problem with the little ones; but, well, maybe she would all the same, she’d think about it, they’d always find each other anyway. Once outside he hesitated, then went into his neighbours’ to see if Levaque was ready to go. But instead he found Zacharie waiting for Philomène, and La Levaque, who had just raised the eternal topic of their marriage, shouting her head off about how no one gave a damn about her in all this and how she was going to have the whole thing out, once and for all, with La Maheude. What sort of a life was it, eh, looking after her daughter’s fatherless children while the daughter herself was always off somewhere rolling in the hay with her man? Philomène having calmly put on her bonnet, Zacharie escorted her out of the door, saying that as far he was concerned he had no objection if his mother agreed. In fact Levaque had already made himself scarce, so Maheu sent La Levaque round to see his wife and beat a hasty retreat. Bouteloup, who was sitting with his elbows on the table finishing off a piece of cheese, stubbornly refused Maheu’s friendly offer of a beer. He intended to stay at home, as though he were the devoted husband.
Meanwhile the village was gradually emptying; the men were all setting out now, one group after another, while the girls watched them from their doorsteps and then made off in the opposite direction, each on the arm of her sweetheart. As her father turned the corner by the church, Catherine caught sight of Chaval and hurried to join him for the walk along the road to Montsou. La Maheude, left alone amid the chaos of her children, and without the strength to get up from her chair, poured herself a second glass of scalding coffee, which she proceeded to sip. Throughout the village only the women were left, and they invited each other in to sit round tables that were still warm and greasy from their dinner and to finish off the contents of their coffee-pots.
Maheu had an idea that Levaque would be at the Advantage, and he walked slowly down to Rasseneur’s. Sure enough, there in the narrow, hedge-lined garden behind the house was Levaque playing a game of skittles with some comrades. Standing beside them, though not actually playing, Grandpa Bonnemort and old Mouque were watching the progress of the game so closely that they quite forgot to nudge each other in their usual way. The blazing sun was beating straight down and there was only one thin strip of shade, running the length of the building; and this was where Étienne was sitting at a table, drinking his beer, rather put out that Souvarine had gone up to his room and left him on his own. Almost every Sunday he shut himself away like this