L'Etoile Rose

Chapter 6

When I woke up the next morning, I had gone to the showers with the company of Sophie. It was Sunday: there was no sailing lesson that day, it was the weekly rest day, but no way the day would be spent sleeping! On the day before, we had come up with the plan of going on a bike trip, in groups, to the beach of Tremblade, on the island. We would have to cross the new five-kilometer long bridge that connected the island to the mainland. The walk was about twenty kilometres to the beach restaurant where Dominique and his friends had to play at night. We would picnic on the way, spend the afternoon bathing, and the early evening at Dominique's concert.

In the shower, I let the water flow, all of it to my thoughts. The day before, my mother had called me, and the conversation had been rather laborious: "yes, yes, everything was fine! The sailing lessons were going well and I was enjoying them. Madame Dupeigne's food was alright. Oh, there was an excursion planned this Sunday, on bikes, in groups. Yes, of course, I already had many friends! "... We were close, my mother and I, but I wasn't used to talking to her on the phone, and the never ending comings and goings between the kitchen where the phone was and the dining room had kept me from really talking to her. During the whole stay, she would call me regularly once a week, my father never would.

Suddenly, something made me open my eyes, a movement. It was Dominique who was there, leaning quietly on the doorframe of my shower, having drawn the curtain, and looking at me without a word, a slight smile on his lips! He held tools in his hand. He had remained there for a few seconds, motionless. I was myself, without a gesture, without a word, eyes wide open now under the water that continued to flow, stupefied!

The next moment he was gone. The mind empty, empty of all thought, but my heart pounding out of my chest and my cheeks burning with shame and anger, I had mechanically dried myself and dressed, while I heard him chatting with Sophie at the sinks. I heard them laughing ... But when I arrived, he was already gone. Sophie finished putting on makeup in front of the mirror:

"Dominique came to fix a tap that was closing badly. You know, he's nice, but you should be wary, I think he's got his eyes on you, and he's a hot bunny! Do you know what that means?"

"No..."

"That means he seduces as many girls as possible! It was Mrs. Dupeigne who told me that the other day. She says that he has been working at the inn every summer for a few years, and that he is enjoying it!"

"Ok I got it. Are you ready, are we going to eat?"

But I was out of the bathroom before she had given an answer. I didn't like her giving me advice. And I didn't like the expression she had used either. I had gone to eat without her, angry with Dominique, with Sophie, with myself too, hostile, on the defensive. At the table, only Laurent was there. He was delighted: Dominique, him again, had offered to help him for the evening concert. It was he, Laurent, who had to carry the instruments by car to the restaurant, install them and have everything ready, because Dominique wanted to ride with us by bike ... Enthusiastic, Laurent didn't seem to notice that I was barely answering. Then Anne came, smiling and serene, and put a kiss on my cheek before sitting next to Laurent.

This mark of affection was enough to bring tears to my eyes, and I remained focused on my coffee, trying to keep calm. I loved Anne, full of confidence and gentleness at the same time.

When she realized that Laurent was going to go by car, Anne had asked him to take a bag with him:

"We will have to change, tonight before the concert, we can't go to the restaurant in a bathing suit or shorts; we want to look beautiful and dance, so I'll give you a bag!"

"Not too big, the bag, pretty lady! Dominique's car is a Mini, I think there is barely place for myself behind the wheel!"

I listened to them laughing together without saying anything, lost in the contemplation of the lost boat. It was beautiful, the tall ships, it was a different time ...

"Betty ... Do you hear me? Do you have a dress for tonight?"

"A dress? No ... I have a long skirt, but it's wrinkled. Anyway, I won't dance."

"Listen, you'll get dressed anyway! And then we'll have fun! ... You can borrow Madame Dupeigne's iron. But, wait, I have a dress that would be very pretty on you! Come with me, I'll show it to you!"

Sitting on Anne's bed, I watched her as she furrowed in her bag. Everything was clear with her, the little locks of hair that fell on her large forehead, slightly tanned, the eyebrows thin and arched, the delicate transparent earrings. Even her brown eyes seemed bright because of how luminous they were, full of intelligence.

"It's a white dress?"

She had laughed without answering, just her eyes had crossed mine.

"Here, look if it suits you..." She had pulled out of a flat cardboard box a funny thing, made of braided leather straps threaded with coloured beads and adorned here and there with white feathers: a dress like I had never seen before, Indian style, without sleeves... I was left there standing, not saying much, a smile on my lips and on Anne's too, her thin hand gently putting the ruffled feathers back in place.

By eleven o'clock, the row of bicycles was on its way. Laurent, who was to leave by car a little later, said goodbye to everyone a little ceremoniously, his tall figure bending with a big bow. As I passed, he was grandiloquent: "May God keep you safe, Betty, and bring us together again tonight!" I accepted the tribute with a farewell sign. Anne had stopped, had taken from her backpack a little red notebook and began to write!

"Come on, Anne, what are you doing?" Sophie had immediately protested.

"Go ahead please, I'm coming!"

The atmosphere was full of happiness and the sun was shining.

Like every time when the nature is particularly flamboyant and the space opened freely before me, I would feel a whiff of enthusiasm close to exaltation at the time of departure. The azure of the sky, the poppies on the side of the road, the bright yellow of the sunflower field, it was almost too much for me. It was too beautiful, too violent ... I felt it with a particular force, almost agonizing, and the impression of being in a film, when the scenery seems to be loaded with a presentiment and that the music becomes threatening. I saw myself from the outside, from afar, just like when I looked at myself in the mirror and would find myself objectively pretty. I advanced on my blue bike, at the back of the pack, observing the dance of the gulls over the beach; and we could already see in the distance, glittering in the light, the bridge we would have to take to reach the island.

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Lovelies❤ thank you for reading this story!