welled up in his eyes. But he felt no shame in allowing them to be seen.
He felt that it was like a secret that they shared, even Danielle, who kept quiet behind her circular specs. The granny stood up sharply and went to the kitchen, where you could hear her opening and shutting the oven door and shifting pots and pans.
âItâs nice to have a home,â he said. âThe sounds ⦠things in their right places ⦠you know what I mean?â
âYes, especially a new, clean home,â Colette said.
âI do hope youâre hungry,â Madame Valette said.
âOh yes, very!â
âBut what are they up to?⦠And Luc still isnât here!â
âOh, Lucâ¦â Colette laughed, as though it were quite normal for Luc to be late. âBut in my view,â she added with a slightly supercilious air, âthe old man and son Jean are taking a liberty.â
âAh, here they come,â Madame Valette said, and stood up.
In the same instant the front door could be heard opening and slamming shutâwith a kick, most likelyâand Jean Valette appeared with a scowl and a tray of shucked oysters.
âDamn!â he shouted from the threshold, âthere are dozens of you in there and nobody can be bothered to open the door for me!⦠Hallo, Prof!â he added as he put the tray down. âYou been here long?â Without waiting for an answer, he turned to Colette with an accusing glance: Another one of your bright ideas!
âWhatâs up?â she asked, quite composed.
âThose bloody oysters!â
âAnd where is your father?â Madame Valette asked in the same calm tone.
âOn his way!â
Jean Valette was done up in a striped navy blue suitârather worn and crumpledâand a pink shirt without a tie, but his shoes were small-checked bedroom slippers. What made him unrecognizable above all else was his moody and angry face. He frowned and blinked all the time, as if the light were too much for him. Itâs not that Lachaume had never seen Valette in a bad mood or angry. What was surprising was that it seemed to have no discernible cause.
âYou having a good time?â he asked Lachaume.
Casual language of that kind was equally unexpected. Lachaume glanced at the women to see if they, too, felt startled. All he could see on their faces was hostile resignation and a decision to say nothing for the time being, which only added to his feeling of awkwardness.
âWhere is your father?â Madame Valette asked a second time, still calmly.
âOn his way, like I said!â Valette grunted while lighting a cigarette. âArenât we going to eat, then?â His cigarette showed he was only pretending to be eager for lunch.
âWeâll wait for Luc and Dad,â Colette said as she walked across the room in her shimmering blouse.
âNo! Iâm not going to wait for Luc!â
âYouâd do better to pay attention to your friend,â Colette fired back. âHeâs been waiting for you for almost an hour.â
Then she left the room.
Jean Valette shrugged, and all of a sudden Lachaume saw his good and cheery old face come back, with that special light in his eyes that the women in the family had first made him conscious of.
âMy sisterâs a rightâun!â Valette said, with that broad smile that seemed to make his ears stick out even farther.
He sat down next to Lachaume on the convertible sofa, took a Martini from the low table, and then had second thoughts.
âLetâs wait for Dad. Heâs looking forward to meeting you, heâs heard so much about youâ¦â
Jean Valette stayed cheerful when the three women came back in the dining room, and it seemed to Lachaume that the sun was once again shining its full light on the two brilliantly colored mimosa bouquets standing in their vases on the white tablecloth.
âTell me,â Jean Valette
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