No Regrets - Carolyn Burke [87]
Edith’s run of romantic mistakes let her see that she had gone from one lover to another to anesthetize herself after the death of Cerdan. Over the next months, while dallying with Gérardin, she came to appreciate the man whose presence in her life would bring stability—the singer Jacques Pills, known in the United States as “Monsieur Charm.” They had been acquainted since prewar days, when Pills, né René Ducos, was part of the duo Pills and Tabet. He had recently been divorced from Lucienne Boyer; five years earlier in New York Piaf had remet Cerdan in their company. They belonged to the same world.
Shortly after Piaf’s move to her new apartment, Pills and his young pianist, Gilbert Bécaud, called to offer her their latest song, “Je t’ai dans la peau” (“I’ve Got You Under My Skin”). The frank sensuality of the lyrics (“J’ai froid, j’ai chaud / Je sens la fièvre sur ma peau” [“I’m hot, I’m cold / I feel the fever on my skin”]) appealed to her, as did the older of the two men (Pills was forty-six). “Jacques came back the next day and each day after that,” Piaf said discreetly: “We had to rehearse the song, work on it, perfect it!”
By June, the singers were preparing their joint appearance at the Drap d’Or club, Piaf’s way of announcing that they were an item. On the eleventh, Edouard Herriot, the head of the French National Assembly, awarded her the Grand Prix du Disque for “Padam … padam” at a ceremony attended by the writer Colette, perhaps at the urging of their mutual friend, Cocteau. Piaf and Pills took a brief vacation at the home of a Mr. Frank (Tony?) in Marseille, where they announced their engagement before going on tour for the summer. In September, Piaf rented the nine-room apartment on the Boulevard Lannes, opposite the Bois de Boulogne, where she would live like a Gypsy for the rest of her life—as far from Belleville as one could go and still be in Paris.
The singers flew to New York in early September, in time for Pills’s debut at a club aptly named La Vie en Rose and Piaf’s fifth engagement at the Versailles. Two weeks later, she informed Gérardin of her wedding plans: she planned to be faithful to Pills, whom she loved sincerely. Marlene Dietrich helped Edith choose the blue gown and bonnet that she wore on September 20 to the Saint Vincent de Paul Church in New York, where the union was blessed by the priest who had comforted her after the death of Cerdan. Despite the press’s attempts to cover the event, only Les Compagnons (then in New York), the French consul, and Piaf’s entourage were allowed into the church. With Marlene as maid of honor, Edith walked down the aisle to Schubert’s “Ave Maria.” Loulou Barrier gave her away; Danielle Bonel tucked a white mink bolero over her shoulders as they set off to Le Pavillon, where the guests—Ginou Richer, Dietrich, Aznavour, Barrier, Chauvigny, the manager of the Versailles, and the Bonels—toasted the newlyweds.
That night at the Versailles the couple sang the teasing duet that Piaf had composed for them, “Et ça gueule, ça, madame”—whose lyrics reflected their amorous byplay. The next night, they appeared on Ed Sullivan’s television show The Toast of the Town; two weeks later, Life ran a two-page article entitled “Mlle. Heartbreak: Singer Edith Piaf Finds ‘La Vie’ Can Be ‘Rosy,’ ” with a full-page montage of Edith singing. “I’m truly happy,” Edith told Bourgeat. “The better I know Jacques the more I appreciate him. You so much hoped to see me be calm. Now I am.” Pills’s reputation meant that, unlike previous partners, he would not become a rival. “I don’t think she was deeply in love with Pills,” a friend said, “but she was very fond of him. He was charming, handsome, a good companion. She could trust him. It was … more of an amitié amoureuse than a great passion.” At this point, an amorous friendship offered the balance she needed.
Amused by their easygoing rapport, the couple called each other mémère and pépère (Mom and Pop). But, although Pills was no prude, he soon found that his