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Anna Gavalda
I loved her. I loved him
Dedicated to Constance
- What you said?
“I say that I’ll take them away immediately.” It will be useful for them to leave for a short time ...
“But not now?” My mother-in-law asked.
- Right now.
- How? You're not going to ...
“That's what I'm going to.”
“What does all this mean, after all?” Now it's almost eleven! Pierre! ..
“Susanna, I'm talking to Chloe.” Chloe, listen to me: I want to take you away from here. You do not mind?
“You think this is a bad idea?”
- I do not know.
- Go pack your things. We are leaving as soon as you are ready.
“I don't want to go back to my place.”
- Well, it is not necessary. Let's figure it out on the spot.
- But you are not…
“Chloe, Chloe, please trust me.”
The mother-in-law did not give up:
- What kind of madness? You won’t wake the little ones at such a time! The house is not heated! There's nothing there! Children must not be taken there! They are…
He got up.
* * *
Marion sleeps in the child seat, holding a finger in his mouth. Lucy is sleeping beside her, curled up.
I look at my father-in-law. He is sitting upright. His hands hold the steering wheel tightly. He has not said a word since we left. From time to time, the headlights of oncoming cars flash his profile.
I think he is as unhappy as I am. He is also very tired. And disappointed.
He feels my gaze:
- Why do not you sleep? You have to sleep, hear? You need to lower your back and try to sleep. We still have to go and go ...
“I cannot,” I reply, “I am watching you.”
He smiles back. If a thiscan be called a smile.
“No ... I’m the watchman today.”
And we each return to our thoughts. And I cry, covering my face with my hands.
We stopped at a gas station. I use his absence to check the cell.
Not a single message.
Naturally.
What a fool I am.
I turn on the radio and immediately turn it off.
He is coming back.
- Will you go out? Do you want something?
I am mistaken with the button, the glass is filled with some kind of sickening slurry, and I send it to the urn.
In the shop I buy diapers for Lucy and a toothbrush for myself.
He does not budge until I finally agree to lower the seatback.
* * *
I opened my eyes when he turned off the engine.
- Do not fuss. Stay with the little ones here while the car is still warm. I will go into the house, turn on the heaters in your bedroom, and then come back for you.
I'm asking my phone again.
At four in the morning ...
What a fool I am!
I can not fall asleep.
Together with the children, I lie in Adrian’s grandmother’s bed. The bed creaks terribly. Once she was ours.
Making love, we tried our best not to rock it.
The whole house was in the know, as soon as we only move a hand or a foot. I remember Christine's hints at the table when we went downstairs the first morning. I will never forget how we blushed without raising our eyes from our plates and holding hands under the table.
We well remembered the lesson and since then indulged in love joys quietly, like mice.
I know that he will return to this bed with another woman, and when their patience comes to an end, he will, as he once did with him, tear a thick mattress to the floor.
Marion wakes us up. She walks her doll on the blanket, telling her a tale of escaped nipples. Lucy touches my eyelashes: "Your eyes are stuck together."
We dress under the covers because the room is too cold.
The groaning beds of the girls are laughing.
The father-in-law kindled a fireplace in the kitchen. I see him in the back of the garden - he is gathering firewood from a log of wood under a canopy.
We first stayed with him alone.
I never felt comfortable in his company. He is too impassive. Too silent. Moreover, all these stories of Adrian about how closely his father watched him, how tough, implacable he was, how easily he lost his temper, how he found fault with school grades.
Same thing with Suzanne. I have never noticed any tenderness in their relationship. "Pierre is restrained, but I know whathe feels for me, ”my mother-in-law once told me,“ we peeled beans and talked about love.
I nodded then, but did not understand. I did not understand this person, so mean on emotions, suppressing all his feelings. Constantly keeping myself in check for fear of seeming weak - that I could never understand! In my family, hugging and kissing was as natural as breathing.
I remember one stormy evening in this kitchen ... My sister-in-law Christine complained about the teachers of her children: they say they are all incompetent and limited. Then the conversation turned to education in general, and them with Adrian in particular. The situation instantly escalated. The kitchen turned into a court, Adrian and his sister became prosecutors, and in the dock their father. How hard it all was ... no, the bomb never exploded, it sank to the best - so, they stuck a couple of poisoned hairpins into each other.
As always.
However, the scandal would still not work - my father-in-law flatly refused to enter the ring. He listened to the taunts of his children, but never answered them. “All your accusations bounce off me like a ball from asphalt!” - so he always spoke with a smile and walked away.
True, the argument came out more bilious that time.
I remember his distorted face and hands, squeezing the carafe with water with such force, as if he wanted to crush it.
I tried to imagine what he could say in response, trying to understand. What does he really feel? What does he think about, being alone? What is in his soul?
Exhausted Christine turned to me:
“What do you say about all this, Chloe?”
I was tired, and I wanted the evening to end soon. I've had enough of these family squabbles.
“I ...” I began thoughtfully, “I believe that Pierre does not seem to live among us, does not really live, he looks like a Martian lost among the Dippel family ...
All those present shrugged and turned away. Except him.
He set the carafe on the table, his face smoothed, he smiled at me. Sohe smiled at me for the first time. And perhaps the last. It seems to me that that evening there was a kind of mutual understanding between us ... A kind of thin thread. I then tried to protect him, as best I could, from my strange gray-haired Martian, who was now approaching the kitchen door, pushing a car with firewood in front of him.
* * *
- Everything is fine? Are you cold?
- All is well, thank you, do not worry.
- And the little ones?
- They watch cartoons.
- Cartoons - at such a time?
- During the holidays they are shown every morning.
“Yeah ... fine.” Did you find the coffee?
- Yes, yes, thank you.
“By the way, Chloe ... As for the holidays, you shouldn't ...”
- Call to work?
- Yes, however, I don’t know ...
- Yes, yes, I’ll call, I ...
I cried again.
The father-in-law lowered his eyes. And took off his gloves.
- Sorry, I'm not interfering in my business ...
“No, that's not the point, I just ... I feel lost ... I ... you are right, I’ll go and call the chief.”
- Who is he, your boss?
- Girlfriend, I hope that a friend, now we will see ...
I took my hair back with the old rubber band Lucy I found in my pocket.
“Say you take a few days off to look after the evil father-in-law ...” he suggested.
- Yes ... for the evil andhelpless. So it will be more convincing.
He smiled while blowing for coffee.
Laura was not there. I muttered something slurred to her assistant, who was waiting for a call along a different line.
I called home. I dialed the answering machine code. Meaningless messages.
And what did I actually hope for?
Again the tears came. My father-in-law entered the room and immediately left.
I told myself: “Come on, you have to cry once and for all. Pour out all the tears, squeeze my big sad body like a sponge and turn the page. Thinking about something else. Go forward in small steps and start all over again. ”
These words have been repeated to me hundreds of times. Think of something else. Life goes on. Remember the daughters. You have no right to dissolve like that. Shake it up
Yes, I know, I know everything perfectly, but you understand - I can’t.
First, what is living? What does this word mean?
My children ... but what can I give them? Is mom depressed? Inverted world?
I am ready to get up in the morning, dress, have breakfast, dress and feed my daughters, hold on until the evening, lay them down and kiss them for the night. I'm capable of that. Everyone is capable of it. But no more than that.
Be merciful to me.
No more.
“Yes,” I answer, wiping my nose with my sleeve.
“I'm here, here ...”
Lucy stood in front of me in a coat, wearing it right on my nightgown. In her arms she twisted Barbie, holding her hair.
“Do you know what grandfather said?”
“That we will go to McDonald's.”
- I do not believe!
- And here is the truth! He himself said.
- Now.
“I thought he hated the McDonald's ...”
- But he doesn’t hate it! He said - we will go shopping, and then to McDonald's, everything, even you, even Marion, even me and even he!
When we climbed the stairs, she took my hand.
“You know, I don’t have any clothes at all.” We left everything in Paris ...
“And that's right,” I agreed, “we all forgot there.”
“Do you know what else grandfather said?”
“He told us with Marion that he would buy us clothes when we went shopping.” And we ourselves will choose everything ...
- Oh really?
I changed clothes Marion, tickling her tummy.
Lucy sat on the edge of the bed and slowly but relentlessly led me to the main thing.
“And he said he agreed ...”
- For what?
“For everything I asked him ...”
“What did you ask him for?”
- Clothes for Barbie.
“Clothing for your Barbie?”
“For Barbie and for me.” The same!
“You mean those terrible sparkling shirts?”
- Yes, and pink jeans, and pink sneakers with Barbie, and socks with small bows ... Here ... Behind ...
She showed a place on her ankle.
I finished with Marion.
- Wonderful! I exclaimed. - You will be unique!
Her little mouth twisted.
- You do not like everything beautiful ...
I laughed and kissed her wonderful face.
She put on a dress and dreamed out loud:
“I'll be very pretty, right?”
“You're already beautiful, baby, very, very beautiful.”
“Yes, but then I will be completely ...”
“Do you think this is possible?”
She thought:
- Probably, I think, yes ...
- Then turn around.
Girls, what a charm, I thought, combing Lucy, what a charm ...
While we stood in line at the box office, my father-in-law admitted that he had not been to the supermarket for ten years.
I thought about Suzanne.
Forever alone with her cart.
Everywhere and always alone.
After eating the nuggets, the girls went to play in a room full of colorful balloons. The young man asked them to take off their shoes, and I held Lucy's monstrous sneakers on my lap. " You’re a Barbie girl! "1
You are Barbie
The most terrible was the transparent platform ...
“How could you buy such an abomination!”
- She liked them so much ... I try not to repeat the previous mistakes with the new generation ...
Take, for example, this institution ... Exist thirty years ago, I would never come here with Christine and Adrian. Never! And today I ask myself why - well why! - deprived them of pleasure? What did it cost me in the end? A quarter hour hurt? What is fifteen minutes compared to the crimson faces of your daughters from happiness?
He dripped all the trousers with mayonnaise.
“I want you to eat ... I'm sorry to be like Susanna, but you haven't eaten anything since yesterday ...”
- I can not.
He made a new attempt.
“Yes, and who could eat such an abomination ?!” Who! Let's answer. Who! No one!
I made an attempt to smile.
“Okay, I’m letting you go on a diet for a little while, but in the evening ... In the evening I’ll be cooking dinner and you’ll have to respect me, understand?”
- I get it.
- And then what is it? And how do you order to eat this food for astronauts?
He jabbed a finger at a suspicious salad in a plastic glass.
* * *
The rest of the day we spent in the garden. The girls fluttered around the grandfather, who was repairing an old swing for them. I watched them from afar, sitting on the steps of the porch. It was cold and clear. At my daughters, my hair sparkled in the sunlight, and they seemed to me pretty.
I was thinking about Adrian. I wonder what he's doing now.
Where is he now?
And what will happen to our life now?
Each new question plunged me deeper into a quagmire of despair. How tired I am ... Closing my eyes, I imagined that he was appearing. A motor rumbling is heard in the courtyard, he sits next to him, hugs me, puts a finger to my lips - he wants to surprise the girls. I feel his gentle touches to my neck, I hear his voice, I feel the heat of his body, the smell of skin. Everything as usual.
Everything as usual…
Just close your eyes.
How long do you remember the smell of the person who loved you? And when you stop loving yourself?
I need an hourglass.
When we hugged for the last time, I kissed him myself. It was in the elevator of the house on Flandre Street.
He let me caress him.
Why? Why did he allow the woman he had stopped loving to kiss himself? Why set your lips up? Why hug?
This is pointless.
Swing repaired. Pierre furtively looks at me. I turn away. I do not want to meet his gaze. I'm cold, bitterness in my mouth, it's time to go to the bathroom to warm the bathing water.
- How can I help you?
He tied a towel around his waist.
“Lucy and Marion lay down?”
“They won't freeze?”
- No, no, it's all right. Better tell me what to do ...
- You can cry, but I will not feel remorse. I will be happy that for once you cry just like that. Take it, cut it, ”he added, holding out three onions to me.
“Do you think I'm crying too much?”
Silence.
I took the wooden board that stood at the sink and sat opposite him. He closed again. Firewood crackled in the fireplace.
“I didn't mean to say that ...”
- Sorry?
- I had in mind something else - I do not think that you cry too much, I just am terribly upset. You're so pretty when you smile ...
- Do you want something to drink?
I nodded.
“We will wait until the wine warms a little, we will not spoil the impression ... In the meantime, maybe pour you“ Bushmills»?
- No thanks.
- Why?
- I do not like whiskey.
- Unhappy! What are you talking about! Now, let's try ...
He brought the glass to my lips, and his whiskey seemed disgusting to me. I ate nothing for several days and immediately got drunk. The knife glided over the onion husks, the back of the head let go. Now cut off my finger. I felt good.
- Well, appreciated? Patrick Frendall gave me this bottle for his sixtieth birthday. Do you remember Patrick Frendall?
- Uh ... no.
“Well, then, you saw him here, don’t you remember?” A huge man with long arms ...
“The one who threw Lucy up in the air while she nearly got sick?”
“Exactly,” Pierre confirmed, adding more to me.
- Yes I remember…
- I love him very much and often think about him ... Strange, but I consider him one of my best friends, although we barely know each other ...
- Do you have best friends?
“Why are you asking about this?”
“Yes ... Just ... How do I know.” You never talked about your friends.
My father-in-law carefully cut the carrots into circles. It is always fun to watch a man who is cooking for the first time in his life. Oh, this is my way of following the recipe exactly, as if Ginette Matio is the supreme goddess of culinary art!
- It says "cut carrots into medium-sized slices." You think so okay?
“Just perfect!”
I was laughing. The back of the head was weightless, and his head dangled freely back and forth.
“Thank you ... So where did we stop?” Oh yes, on my friends ... Actually, I had three of them ... Patrick, whom I met while traveling in Rome. A charity trip from the parish ... For the first time without parents ... I was then fifteen. I did not understand a single word from what this Irishman said twice as tall as me, but we became friends with him instantly. He was raised by the most fanatical Catholics in the world, I just got out of the family press ... Two puppies released in the Eternal City ... All pilgrimages pilgrimage!
Remembering, he was still trembling with excitement.
He threw onions, carrots and smoked brisket into the brazier - it smelled very good.
- And then Jean Theron - you know him - and my brother Paul, whom you never saw, because he died in the 56th ...
“Did you consider your brother to be your best friend?”
“Even more ... As far as I know you, Chloe, you would just fall in love with him.” He was smart and funny, attentive to others and always cheerful. He painted ... Tomorrow I will show you his watercolors, they are in my office. He knew how all the birds in the world sing. He liked to play a trick, but always without a malice. He was a charming guy. Really charming. Everyone adored him ...
“What did he die from?”
My father-in-law turned around:
- He went to Indochina. He returned from there sick and half-crazy. He died of tuberculosis on July 14, 1956.
- As you know, after that my parents never watched military parades again. Balls and fireworks for them also ceased to exist.
“The worst part is that he volunteered ... He was a student then.” He studied brilliantly. I wanted to work at ONF 2
Office National des Forêts - Forestry Management.
He loved trees and birds. He should not have gone there. There was no reason. None. Paul was a gentle man, a pacifist, he quoted Giono 3
Jean Gionot (1895–1970) is a French prose writer who praised the beauty of Upper Provence.
Is he…
“So why did he go?”
- Because of the girl. Stupid love story. And what a girl there is a girl. Such an absurdity. Here I am telling you this now and to myself every time I think about it, I’ll be so horrified - how absurd our life is. A great guy goes to war because of a capricious girl ... Wildness! Such stories are good for tabloid novels, for cheap melodramas!
“She didn't love him?”
- No. And Paul went crazy. He adored her. He knew her from the age of twelve, wrote letters to her, which she hardly understood. He went to war ... out of bragging. So she sees what kind of man he is! On the eve of departure, this donkey still swaggered: “When she asks you for my address, don’t give me right away, I want to write to her first, first ...” But she got engaged to the butcher’s son from Passy Street three months later.
He poured into the roasting pan with a dozen different spices - everything that he found in the lockers.
I don’t know what Ginette would have thought.
- This stupid bastard spent whole days chopping meat in the back room of his father’s shop. Can you imagine the shock we experienced. Exchange our Field for this fool! While Paul, somewhere on the other side of the earth, dreamed about her, wrote poems, she only thought about how she would spend the evening with her hog, which the butcher dad allowed to take his car. Sky blue "Frigate", if I’m not mistaken ... Of course, she was free not to love our Paul, who is arguing, but Paul was always such an enthusiastic, so ardent, brilliant young man. That's what nonsense happened ...
“And then what happened?”
- Nothing. Paul returned, and mother changed the butcher. Brother spent a lot of time in this house, almost did not go out. Drew, read, complained of insomnia. He was seriously ill, coughed incessantly, and then died. At twenty one years old ...
“You never talk about it ...”
- Why?
- I loved talking about Paul with people who knew him, it was easier this way ...
I pushed my chair away from the table.
- I'll cover. Where do you want to have dinner?
- Here. The kitchen is very comfortable.
He turned off the overhead light, and we sat at a table opposite each other.
- Amazing.
- True? In my opinion, slightly overcooked?
- No, believe me, great.
“You're too kind.”
“It’s not so easy to pick up from your fault.” Tell me about Rome ...
- About the city?
“No, about that pilgrimage ... What were you like at fifteen?”
- Oh ... Well, what I was ... The most stupid boy in the world. Tried to keep up with Frendall. Chatted incessantly, told him about Paris, about the "Moulin Rouge", invented God knows what, lied recklessly. He laughed, answered something, I did not understand and also laughed. We spent time catching coins from fountains and giggling stupidly at the sight of any female. Today it seems to me that both of us looked very moving ... I don’t remember at all why this pilgrimage was organized then. But, of course, it was dedicated to something, he had, so to speak, a good purpose and reason for prayer ... I don’t remember ... For me, Rome became a huge sip of oxygen. These few days have changed my life. I discovered the taste of freedom. It was ... You gotta put some more?
- With pleasure.
“Do not forget what time it was then ... We pretended to win the war.” But in fact, there is one disappointment. It was worth mentioning someone - a neighbor, a seller, the parents of a friend - and my father immediately put him in the category of a scammer or an agreed upon, coward or worthless creature. It was terrible. It’s hard for you to imagine, but believe me, it was really terrible for the children ... By the way, my father and I practically didn’t talk ... So, for the sake of formality, observing a minimum of filial respect ... Once I nevertheless asked him: “If all your philanthropy turned out to be so useless why did you fight for him? ”
“And what did he answer?”
“Nothing ... the answer was contemptuous silence.”
- Thank you, thanks, that's enough!
- I lived on the second floor of a gloomy gray building somewhere in the depths of the sixteenth district. It was a sad place ... My parents obviously didn’t have enough money to live in such an area, but the sixteenth district is so prestigious, you know! Sixteenth district! We huddled in a wretched apartment in which the sun never penetrated, and my mother forbade opening windows because there was a bus depot below. She was afraid that the curtains would be sooty ... oh-ho-ho, this wonderful burgundy unleashed my tongue, miracles, and more! I missed you terribly. I was too young to interest my father, and my mother fluttered like a butterfly.
She was almost gone at home. “Time given to the parish,” she said, raising her eyes to heaven. She climbed out of her skin, cursed some pious fools she had invented, entering, wearily took off her gloves and threw them like an apron onto the console in the hallway, sighed, twirled, cracked incessantly, lied and got confused. We did not bother her. Paul called her Sarah Bernhardt, and my father, when she left the room, returned to reading Figaro, without bothering to comment ... More potatoes?
- No thanks.
- I went for an extension at Lyceum Jeanson de Sayy. And was as gray as the house in which he lived. He read Bravehearts and was fond of the adventures of Flash Gordon. On Thursdays, he played tennis with the Mortelier brothers. I ... I was a very prudent and completely uninteresting child. I dreamed of taking the elevator and going up to the seventh floor to watch ... Also an adventure for me ... Go up to the seventh floor! Fool is a fool ...
I was waiting for Patrick Frendall.
I was waiting for a date with Dad!
He stood up to raise firewood in the fireplace.
- In general ... There was nothing revolutionary in that escapade ... So, a little respite. I always thought that ... how would I put it more precisely ... that one fine day I will be free, "tear off the leash." But nothing of the kind happened. It never happened. I remained prudent, well-mannered and uninteresting. Why am I telling you all this? Why is it so blabbering?
“I just asked ...”
- Okay ... Although this is not the reason! I have not bothered you with my nostalgic memories?
- But no, quite the contrary, I am very interested ...
* * *
The next morning I found a note on the kitchen table: "I only go to work and back."
In the coffee pot there was freshly brewed coffee, in front of the fireplace, on a stand, there was a huge log.
Why didn't he warn me of his departure?
What a strange person ... Looks like a fish ... He forever dodges and always slips out of his hands ...
I poured myself a large cup of coffee and drank while standing by the kitchen window. I looked at the robins, scurrying around pieces of bacon, which the girls laid out on the bench the night before.
The sun rose just above the hedge.
I waited for the daughters to stand up. The house was too quiet.
I wanted to smoke. That idiocy, I quit many years ago! I threw it away, but life is life ... You show miracles of endurance, and then one day in the winter morning weave four kilometers through the cold to buy a pack of cigarettes, or, for example, love a man, have two children with him and then one day in the winter morning that he leaves you because he loved another. Says he is sorry that he was wrong.
Like on the phone: "Sorry, I made a mistake with the number."
Please please…
Soap bubble.
It's windy outside. I go out to clean the lard.
I watch TV with my daughters. I am depressed. The characters in their cartoons seem silly and moody to me. Lucy is angry, shakes her head, asks me to shut up. And I want to chat with her about Candy.
As a child, I loved Candy.
Candy never talked about money. Only about love. But I didn’t say anything — what was the use of becoming like the dumb Candy ...
The wind howls more and more. Campaign in the village will have to be postponed.
The second half of the day we spend in the attic. Girls dress up. Lucy waves her fan in front of her sister:
“Are you hot, Madame Countess?”
Madame Countess cannot move; she has put on too many hats.
We are tearing down the old cradle. Lucy says she needs to be painted.
- In pink? I ask.
- How did you guess?
- I am very smart.
The phone rings. Lucy picks up the phone. He listens for a long time, finally asks:
- Do you want to talk with mom?
Hangs up a little while later. But it does not return to us.
I help Marion deal with the cradle.
Going down to the kitchen, I find my daughter at the table. I sit next to you.
We are looking at each other.
“Will you and dad ever love each other again?”
- Are you sure?
- I knew it…
Getting up, she adds:
“You know what else I wanted to tell you?”
- Not. What?
- And then ... that the birds, they have already eaten everything ...
- True? Do you know for sure?
- Well yes. Go see for yourself ...
She walked around the table and took my hand.
We are standing by the window. Me and a little blond girl in an old tuxedo plastron and a moth-eaten skirt. Her "You’re a Barbie girl"wearing great-grandmother’s shoes. My mother’s arm hugs her shoulders. We watch how the trees in the garden bend under the wind, and most likely think about the same thing ...
The bathroom is so cold that I'm afraid to stick my shoulders out of the water. Lucy has soaped our heads with shampoo and comes up with amazing hair styles. “Look, mom! She squeals. “You have horns on your head!”
I know this without her.
There is not much fun here, but I laugh.
- Why are you laughing?
“Because I'm stupid.”
“Why are you stupid?”
We wiped ourselves out, dancing.
They put on nightgowns, socks, slippers, sweaters, bathrobes, and on top again sweaters.
Then my penguins went downstairs to eat soup.
Electricity was cut off at the very moment when the baby elephant Babar was dabbling with the elevator of the department store under the angry look of the receptionist. Marion burst into tears.
“Wait, I'll fix it now.”
- Oooo ...
“Stop it, baby Barbie, you will upset your sister.”
“Don't call me baby Barbie!”
- Then stop it.
It was not a switch or traffic jams. The shutters slammed, the doors creaked and groaned, the whole house was plunged into darkness.
Sisters Bronte, pray for us!
When will Pierre finally return?
I pulled the girls' mattress down into the kitchen - without the electric radiator upstairs, they could not sleep. Both were terribly excited and hopped like fleas. We pushed the table and threw their “camping bed” on the floor in front of the fireplace.
I lay down between them.
- Mom, what about Babar? You didn’t tell ...
- Shh, Marion, shh! Better look straight ahead. Look at the fire! He will tell you many interesting things ...
“Yes, but ...”
They instantly fell asleep.
I listened to the rustling in the house. I was pinching in my nose, and I rubbed my eyes so as not to cry.
My life is like this bed, I thought. Fragile. Unsteady. Suspended.
I kept waiting for the house to collapse and fly away.
I thought that now I am an abandoned woman.
It's funny how some figurative expressions turn out to be not just figurative. After all, you need to be at least once very scared to understand what “cold sweat” is, or to get seriously worried in order to realize what it is like when it “sucks in the stomach”. Is not it?
“Abandoned woman” is the same. And who only came up with this?
Throw overboard.
Tear and quit.
And most to anchor.
Go out into the open sea, spread your wings and indulge in love at other latitudes.
And really, you can’t imagine a better way ...
I get angry, that's a good sign. A few more weeks - and I will grow thin.
It seems to you that you have anchored - but this is a trap. You make decisions, make commitments, get loans, and you risk, of course. You buy at home, you put the kids in pink nurseries, and every night you sleep in the arms of your spouse. And rejoice ... How did we say this? .. Rejoice agreement. Yes, that’s what we said when we were happy. And even when they were no longer ...
You think that you have the right to happiness - and this is also a trap.
What idiots we are! One must be so naive as to believe for at least a second that we are in control of our lives.
She gets out of control, but it's not scary. And not even very interesting ...
Ideally, it would still be early to find out.
How early is it?
Early.
Before you start repainting rooms in pink, for example ...
Pierre is right - why be weak?
To beat harder?
My grandmother often said: in order to keep a hubby with you, you need to treat it with all sorts of goodies. This is not about me, granny, not about me ... Firstly, I don’t know how to cook, and secondly, I never wanted to keep anyone.
Well, you got yours, my girl!
I pour myself cognac to celebrate.
Cry - and bainki.
The next day seemed very long to me.
We went for a walk. They fed horses with bread in the equestrian center and spent a lot of time there. Marion rode a pony. Lucy did not want to.
It seemed to me that I was carrying a heavy backpack.
In the evening there was a performance. I'm lucky, I have a play at home every day. This time the program included: Little girl who didn’t want to leave. They tried very hard to entertain me.
I did not sleep well.
The next morning my heart ached. It was too cold outside.
The girls whimpered all the time.
I tried to entertain them by playing primitive people.
“Look how primitive people prepared their“ Nesquik ”... They put a saucepan with milk on the fire, yes, like that ... Toast? Nothing is simpler, we put a piece of bread on a wire rack over the fire and - oops! Attention! Do not yawn here, otherwise it will become charred. Who wants to play primitive people with me?
Alas, my girls did not care about the game, they didn’t want to eat. And they wanted to watch a damned TV.
I burned, screamed, Marion cried, and Lucy spilled cocoa on the sofa.
I sat down and put my hands on my head.
I wanted to unscrew it, put it in front of me on the floor, and send it as far as possible with an accurate kick of my legs.
So far away that no one else would ever find.
But I don’t know how to hit the ball either.
Anna Gavalda
I loved her / I loved him
Dedicated to Constance
What you said?
I say that I’ll take them away immediately. It will be useful for them to leave for a short time ...
But not right now? my mother-in-law asked.
Right now.
How? You're not going to ...
That's what I'm going to.
What does all this mean, in the end? Now it's almost eleven! Pierre! ...
Susanna, I'm talking to Chloe. Chloe, listen to me: I want to take you away from here. You do not mind?
Do you think this is a bad idea? - I do not know.
Go pack your things. We are leaving as soon as you are ready.
I do not want to return to myself. - Well, it is not necessary. Let's figure it out on the spot. - But you are not…
Chloe, Chloe, please trust me.
The mother-in-law did not give up:
What kind of madness? You won’t wake the little ones at such a time! The house is not heated! There is nothing there! Children must not be taken there! They are…
He got up.
Marion sleeps in the child seat, holding a finger in his mouth. Lucy is sleeping beside her, curled up.
I look at my father-in-law. He is sitting upright. His hands hold the steering wheel tightly. He has not said a word since we left. From time to time, the headlights of oncoming cars flash his profile.
I think he is as unhappy as I am. He is also very tired. And disappointed.
He feels my gaze:
Why do not you sleep? You have to sleep, hear? You need to lower your back and try to sleep. We still have to go and go ...
I can’t, - I answer, - I am watching you.
He smiles back. If a this can be called a smile.
No ... I'm sentinel today.
And we each return to our thoughts. And I cry, covering my face with my hands.
We stopped at a gas station. I use his absence to check the cell. Not a single message. Well, of course. What a fool I am. Fool…
I turn on the radio and immediately turn it off. He is coming back. - Will you go out? Do you want something?
I am mistaken with the button, the glass is filled with some kind of sickening slurry, and I send it to the urn.
In the shop I buy diapers for Lucy and a toothbrush for myself.
He does not budge until I finally agree to lower the seatback.
I opened my eyes when he turned off the engine.
Do not scamper. Stay with the little ones here while the car is still warm. I will go into the house, turn on the heaters in the bedroom, and then come back for you. I'm asking my phone again. At four in the morning ... What a fool I am!
I can not fall asleep.
Together with the children, I lie in Adrian’s grandmother’s bed. The bed creaks terribly. Once she was ours.
Making love, we tried our best not to rock it.
The whole house was in the know, as soon as we only move a hand or a foot. I remember Christine's hints at the table when we went downstairs the first morning. I will never forget how we blushed without raising our eyes from our plates and holding hands under the table.
We well remembered the lesson and since then indulged in love joys quietly, like mice.
I know that he will return to this bed with another woman, and when their patience comes to an end, he will, as he once did with him, tear a thick mattress to the floor.
Marion wakes us up. She walks her doll on the blanket, telling her a tale of escaped nipples. Lucy touches my eyelashes: "Your eyes are stuck together."
We dress under the covers because the room is too cold.
The groaning beds make the girls laugh.
The father-in-law kindled a fireplace in the kitchen. I see him in the back of the garden - he is gathering firewood from a log of wood under a canopy.
We first stayed with him alone.
I never felt comfortable in his company. He is too impassive. Too silent. Moreover, all these stories of Adrian about how closely his father watched him, how tough, implacable he was, how easily he lost his temper, how he found fault with school grades. Same thing with Suzanne. I have never noticed any tenderness in their relationship. "Pierre is restrained, but I know what he feels for me, ”my mother-in-law once told me,“ we peeled beans and talked about love.
I nodded then, but did not understand. I did not understand this person, so mean on emotions, suppressing all his feelings. Constantly keeping myself in check for fear of seeming weak - that I could never understand! In my family, hugging and kissing was as natural as breathing.
I remember one stormy evening in this kitchen ... My sister-in-law Christine complained about the teachers of her children: they say they are all incompetent and limited. Then the conversation turned to education in general, and them with Adrian in particular. The situation instantly escalated. The kitchen turned into a court, Adrian and his sister became prosecutors, and in the dock their father. How hard it all was ... no, the bomb never exploded, it sank to the best - so, they stuck a couple of poisoned hairpins into each other.
As always.
However, the scandal would still not work - my father-in-law flatly refused to enter the ring. He listened to the taunts of his children, but never answered them. “All your accusations bounce off me like a ball from asphalt!” - so he always spoke with a smile and walked away.
True, at that time the argument came out much more bile.
I remember his distorted face and hands, with such force, squeezing the carafe with water, as if he wanted to crush him.
I tried to imagine what he could say in response, trying to understand. What does he really feel? What does he think about, being alone? What is in his soul?
Exhausted Christine turned to me:
What do you say about all this, Chloe?
I was tired, and I wanted the evening to end soon. I've had enough of these family squabbles.
I ... - I began thoughtfully, - I believe that Pierre does not seem to live among us, does not really live, he looks like a Martian, lost among the Dippel family ...
All those present shrugged and turned away. Except him.
He set the carafe on the table, his face smoothed, he smiled at me. So he smiled at me for the first time. And perhaps the last. It seems to me that that evening there was a kind of mutual understanding between us ... A kind of thin thread. I then tried to protect him, as best I could, from my strange gray-haired Martian, who was now approaching the kitchen door, pushing a car with firewood in front of him.
Everything is fine? Are you cold?
All is well, thanks, do not worry.
What about babies?
They watch cartoons.
Cartoons - at such a time?
During the holidays they are shown every morning.
Yeah ... great. Did you find the coffee?
Yes, yes, thank you.
By the way, Chloe ... As for the holidays, you shouldn't ... Call for work? Yes, however, I don’t know ...
Yes, yes, I’ll call, I ... I cried again.
The father-in-law lowered his eyes. And took off his gloves.
Sorry, I'm not interfering in my business ...
No, that's not the point, I just ... I feel lost ... I ... you are right, I’ll go and call the chief.
Who is he, your boss?
Girlfriend, I hope that a friend, now we will see ...
I took back the hair of the old rubber Lucy I found in my pocket.
Say you take a few days off to take care of the evil father-in-law ... ”he suggested.
Yes ... for the evil and helpless. So it will be more convincing.
He smiled while blowing for coffee.
Laura was not there. I muttered something slurred to her assistant, who was waiting for a call along a different line.
I called home. I dialed the answering machine code. Meaningless messages.
And what did I actually hope for?
Again the tears came. My father-in-law entered the room and immediately left.
I told myself: “Come on, you have to cry once and for all. Pour out all the tears, squeeze my big sad body like a sponge and turn the page. Thinking about something else. Go forward in small steps and start all over again. ”
These words have been repeated to me hundreds of times. Think of something else. Life goes on. Remember the daughters. You have no right to dissolve like that. Shake it up
Yes, I know, I know everything perfectly, but you understand - I can’t.
First, what is living? What does this word mean?
My children ... but what can I give them? Is mom depressed? Inverted world?
I am ready to get up in the morning, dress, have breakfast, dress and feed my daughters, hold on until the evening, lay them down and kiss them for the night. I'm capable of that. Everyone is capable of it. But no more than that.
Be merciful to me. No more.
Yes, ”I answer, wiping my nose with my sleeve.
I'm here, here ...
Lucy stood in front of me in a coat, wearing it right on my nightgown. In her arms she twisted Barbie, holding her hair.
Do you know what grandfather said? - What?
That we will go to McDonald's.
I do not believe!
And here is the truth! He himself said.
But I thought he hates McDonald's ...
But he doesn’t hate it! He said - we will go shopping, and then to McDonald's, everything, even you, even Marion, even me and even he!
When we climbed the stairs, she took my hand.
When something bad happens at a friend or relative, I want to give advice, help to understand that everything is still ahead, that everything will work out. However, when you find yourself in a difficult situation, it seems to you that all these tips are meaningless, they are not able to change anything. The novel of the famous writer Anna Gavalda “I loved her. I loved him ”allows you to feel the experiences of the heroes. The author writes in his own special way, combining the simplicity of the syllable with deep meaning. In the book, there are two storylines that can be traced during the communication of the main characters.
Chloe lived for several years in a successful marriage with Paul. At least that was what she thought. She was satisfied with stability and comfort, the main thing was that he was there - her beloved person. But it turned out that Paul had a different opinion, and he was not happy with her. The husband left a woman with two children and went to his mistress. Chloe does not understand what caused such changes, which her beloved did not reach. She is constantly nervous, thinking. The father-in-law comes to the aid of her, with whom they talk about a lot. He tells her his story, wanting to convey what Chloe is still ahead of, and this is not the saddest scenario. And unlike Pierre, Chloe has a chance to start all over from scratch.
The book is easy to read, but it makes you think seriously. The writer tells a story that can happen to everyone, forcing her to see it from different angles. It’s a pity for the one from whom they left, but ... who thought about how it feels to the person who leaves? After all, if he leaves, then he’s not happy? Is it worth sacrificing your life out of pity for another person? Can one sacrifice one's own happiness while supporting the illusion of love? When you think about all this, it becomes sad and difficult, but at the same time you understand that, probably, for many people this is the best way out in such a situation.
On our website you can download the book "I loved her. I loved him" Anna Gavalda free and without registration in fb2, rtf, epub, pdf, txt format, read a book online or buy a book in an online store.
Dedicated to Constance
What you said?
I say that I’ll take them away immediately. It will be useful for them to leave for a short time ...
But not right now? my mother-in-law asked.
Right now.
How? You're not going to ...
That's what I'm going to.
What does all this mean, in the end? Now it's almost eleven! Pierre! ...
Susanna, I'm talking to Chloe. Chloe, listen to me: I want to take you away from here. You do not mind?
Do you think this is a bad idea? - I do not know.
Go pack your things. We are leaving as soon as you are ready.
I do not want to return to myself. - Well, it is not necessary. Let's figure it out on the spot. - But you are not…
Chloe, Chloe, please trust me.
The mother-in-law did not give up:
What kind of madness? You won’t wake the little ones at such a time! The house is not heated! There is nothing there! Children must not be taken there! They are…
He got up.
Marion sleeps in the child seat, holding a finger in his mouth. Lucy is sleeping beside her, curled up.
I look at my father-in-law. He is sitting upright. His hands hold the steering wheel tightly. He has not said a word since we left. From time to time, the headlights of oncoming cars flash his profile.
I think he is as unhappy as I am. He is also very tired. And disappointed.
He feels my gaze:
Why do not you sleep? You have to sleep, hear? You need to lower your back and try to sleep. We still have to go and go ...
I can’t, - I answer, - I am watching you.
He smiles back. If it can be called a smile.
No ... I'm sentinel today.
And we each return to our thoughts. And I cry, covering my face with my hands.
We stopped at a gas station. I use his absence to check the cell. Not a single message. Well, of course. What a fool I am. Fool…
I turn on the radio and immediately turn it off. He is coming back. - Will you go out? Do you want something?
I am mistaken with the button, the glass is filled with some kind of sickening slurry, and I send it to the urn.
In the shop I buy diapers for Lucy and a toothbrush for myself.
He does not budge until I finally agree to lower the seatback.
I opened my eyes when he turned off the engine.
Do not scamper. Stay with the little ones here while the car is still warm. I will go into the house, turn on the heaters in the bedroom, and then come back for you. I'm asking my phone again. At four in the morning ... What a fool I am!
I can not fall asleep.
Together with the children, I lie in Adrian’s grandmother’s bed. The bed creaks terribly. Once she was ours.
Making love, we tried our best not to rock it.
The whole house was in the know, as soon as we only move a hand or a foot. I remember Christine's hints at the table when we went downstairs the first morning. I will never forget how we blushed without raising our eyes from our plates and holding hands under the table.
We well remembered the lesson and since then indulged in love joys quietly, like mice.
I know that he will return to this bed with another woman, and when their patience comes to an end, he will, as he once did with him, tear a thick mattress to the floor.
Marion wakes us up. She walks her doll on the blanket, telling her a tale of escaped nipples. Lucy touches my eyelashes: "Your eyes are stuck together."
We dress under the covers because the room is too cold.
The groaning beds make the girls laugh.
The father-in-law kindled a fireplace in the kitchen. I see him in the back of the garden - he is gathering firewood from a log of wood under a canopy.
We first stayed with him alone.
I never felt comfortable in his company. He is too impassive. Too silent.
I loved her. I loved him Anna Gavalda
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Title: I loved her. I loved him
About the book “I loved her. I loved him ”Anna Gavalda
Is the husband who went to another a traitor? Of course, a traitor. But maybe not everything is so simple. Perhaps now both the unfaithful husband and the abandoned wife finally have a chance for happiness? Who is harder - the one who was abandoned, or the one who made the difficult decision to leave?
About all this, the book of the modern French writer Anna Gavalda “I loved her. I loved him. ” This is not a love story, not a detective story, not a psychological prose. This is just a good life book to read. Anna Gavalda writes calmly and simply, maybe even too simply. Her books - “Thirty-Five Kilos of Hope”, “Just Together”, etc. - do not capture from the first pages, but for a long time leave a mark in the soul, make you reconsider familiar stereotypes. “I loved her. I loved him ”is no exception.
Adrian throws Chloe with two young children. Of course, the woman is crushed by what happened. Pierre, the father of Hadrian, comes to the rescue. He takes the daughter-in-law with her grandchildren to a country house and there, on vacation, tells her about how he refused his love twenty years ago, because he was already married and had children. How would his life be if he chose love? Unknown He, unlike Adrian, chose a family and children.
“I loved her. I loved him ”- a small volume book. It can be read in a couple of hours. The language is very simple, the situation is clear. In general, the whole book is a dialogue of two infrequent people Chloe and Pierre. Chloe is unhappy through the fault of her husband. Pierre made the choice himself, and he had no one to blame. Would Chloe be happy if Adrian stayed? Would Pierre be happy if he went to Matilda? And were his wife and children happy in the end, or having sacrificed his great love for them, did he deprive them of a chance for happiness?
You cannot survive in life, then come back and check which path was better. But this is precisely what makes life interesting. And that’s exactly what the book “I loved her. I loved him. ” Anna Gavalda does not promise anything to heroes or readers. The book “I loved her. I loved him ”does not at all glorify cheating and leaving the family, as it may seem. Anna Gavalda does not give answers, but helps to formulate questions correctly. Start reading - and you will see many familiar things from a different angle and be sure to think about the fact that in the relationship between two people there are no right and wrong people. When love leaves, everyone suffers, even children.
Maybe both Chloe and Pierre will still be happy? Maybe happiness awaits them right around the corner?
In 2009, director Isabelle Brightman directed the film “I Loved Her. I loved him ”with Daniel Otoy in the title role.
On our site about books lifeinbooks.net you can download for free without registration or read the online book “I loved her. I loved him ”Anna Gavalda in the formats epub, fb2, txt, rtf, pdf for iPad, iPhone, Android and Kindle. The book will give you a lot of pleasant moments and true reading pleasure. You can buy the full version from our partner. Also, here you will find the latest news from the literary world, learn the biography of your favorite authors. For beginning writers, there is a separate section with useful tips and tricks, interesting articles, thanks to which you yourself can try your hand at literary mastery.
