The Beast Within - Emile Zola [198]
Another two days went by. The week was nearly over, and, as the doctor had predicted, the injured were ready to go back to work. One morning, Jacques was standing at the window when he saw a brand new locomotive go past with his fireman, Pecqueux, waving to him from the footplate as if he were telling him to come and join him. But he was in no hurry to get back to his job. He preferred to stay where he was and wait for things to take their course. On the same day he once again heard peals of fresh, young laughter from downstairs, sounds of girlish merriment that echoed through the dismal house like the noise of a school at playtime. He knew it was the two young Dauvergne girls but he didn’t speak about it to Séverine. Séverine, in fact, was out of the room for most of the day and didn’t seem able to stay with him for more than five minutes. Then in the evening, the house once again became as silent as the grave. She sat in his room looking rather pale and serious. Jacques looked hard at her and asked, ‘Has Henri gone? Have his sisters taken him home?’
‘Yes,’ she answered tersely.
‘So are we alone at last? Just you and me?’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘just you and me. Tomorrow we must part. I shall go back to Le Havre. We can’t stay camping out in this wilderness for ever.’
Jacques continued to look at her, smiling awkwardly.
‘You’re sorry he’s left, aren’t you?’ he said suddenly.
The question took her by surprise, and she started to deny it, but he stopped her.
‘I’m not trying to pick a quarrel with you,’ he said. ‘You can see I’m not jealous. You once told me to kill you if you were unfaithful, didn’t you? Well, I don’t think I look like a lover who is thinking of killing his mistress ... but you hardly moved from that room downstairs. I couldn’t have you to myself for a minute. It reminded me of what your husband once told me. He said that one of these days you would sleep with Dauvergne. Not for pleasure, but just to do something different.’
‘Something different, something different,’ she repeated slowly.
She had stopped trying to protest her innocence; she suddenly felt impelled to be completely honest with him.
‘All right,’ she said, ‘it’s true. You and I don’t need to hide anything from each other; we share too many secrets already ... Dauvergne has been after me for months. He knew that we were lovers, and thought it would make no difference to me if I was his lover too. When I was with him downstairs, he spoke about it again and said he was head over heels in love with me. He seemed so grateful to me for looking after him and he was so tender and affectionate that, yes, for a moment I thought I might fall in love with him too, do something different, something better, something quiet and gentle ... not exactly pleasure perhaps, but something that would have calmed me ...’
She broke off, and paused for a moment before continuing.
‘You and I have no future,’ she said. ‘We can go no further. We’re stuck. All our dreams of sailing away and being rich and happy in America, that wonderful future which depended on you ... it’s all gone, because you couldn’t do it ... I’m not blaming you Jacques ... perhaps it’s just as well it never happened ... but you must understand that there’s nothing more I can hope for from you. Tomorrow will be no different from yesterday ... there will be the same problems, the same anxieties.’
Jacques let her talk, only speaking when he saw that she had finished.
‘Is that why you slept with him?’ he asked.
She had moved across the bedroom, but came back towards him.
‘I didn’t sleep with him,’ she said, with a shrug of her shoulders. ‘I don’t have to try and convince you because I know you will believe me; there’s no point in our lying to each other. No, I couldn’t bring myself to do it ... any more than you could bring yourself to kill Roubaud. Does it surprise you that a woman can