The Flemish House by Georges Simenon, Georges Simenon; Translated by Shaun Whiteside Page A
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said
ladies
â¦
Or even
sister
â¦â
Maigret was big, heavy, wide-shouldered,
coarse-featured. And yet, when he rang at the door of the convent, in a little
provincial street where grass grew between the cobbles, the lay sister who opened
the door to him wasnât startled in the slightest.
âI would like to talk to the
Mother Superior!â he said.
âSheâs in chapel. But once
benediction is finished â¦â
And he was brought into a parlour
compared to whichthe Peetersâ dining room was all dirt and
chaos. You really could see your face in this parquet floor. You got the sense that
not even the slightest thing had changed, that the chairs had stood in the same
place for years, that the clock on the mantelpiece had never stopped, had never been
fast or slow.
In the sumptuously tiled corridors,
sliding footsteps, sometimes whispers. At last, very soft and far away, the sound of
an organ playing.
The people at the Quai des Orfèvres
would probably have been surprised to see a Maigret very much at his ease. When the
Mother Superior came in, he greeted her discreetly, calling her by the name that one
must give to the Ursulines, namely:
âReverend Mother â¦â
She waited, hands on her hips.
âSorry to disturb you, but
Iâd like to ask your permission to visit one of your teachers ⦠I know the
rules forbid it ⦠None the less a personâs life â or at least their liberty â
depends on it â¦â
âAre you from the police as
well?â
âI think you received a visit from
an inspector?â
âA gentleman who said he was from
the police, who made some noise and left shouting that weâd be hearing from
him again â¦â
Maigret apologized for him, remained
calm, polite and deferential. He uttered a few deft phrases, and a short time later
a lay sister was instructed to tell Maria Peeters that there was someone to see
her.
âA girl of great merit, I think,
Reverend Mother?â
âI have only the very best things
to say of her. At first the chaplain and I didnât want to take her because of
her parentsâ trade ⦠Not the grocery ⦠But the fact that they serve drink ⦠We
passed over that, and we can only congratulate ourselves ⦠Yesterday, coming down
the stairs, she twisted her ankle, and since then sheâs been in bed, very
downcast, because she knows itâs causing us trouble â¦â
The lay sister came back at last.
Maigret followed her along endless corridors. He met several groups of pupils all
dressed in the same way: black dress with little pleats and blue silk ribbon around
their necks.
At last, on the second floor, a door
opened. The lay sister asked if she should stay or go.
âLeave us, sister â¦â
A very simple little room. Oil-painted
walls, decorated with religious lithographs in black frames and a big crucifix.
An iron bed. A thin figure barely
visible under the covers.
Maigret couldnât see a face. No
one said anything to him. Once the door had closed he stayed motionless for a while,
embarrassed by his wet hat, his thick coat.
At last he heard a muffled sob. But
Maria Peeters still hid her face in the blankets, and stayed turned towards the
wall.
âDonât be upset â¦â he
murmured mechanically. âYour sister Anna must have told you that I come as a
friend â¦â
But that did nothing to calm the girl.
On the contrary! Her body was agitated now by real nervous spasms.
âWhat did the doctor say? Are you
to stay in bed for a long time?â
It was awkward, talking to an invisible
person like that. Particularly given that Maigret didnât even know her!
The sobs came less quickly. She must
have been regaining her composure. She sniffed, and her hand looked for a
handkerchief under the pillow.
âWhy
ladies
â¦
Or even
sister
â¦â
Maigret was big, heavy, wide-shouldered,
coarse-featured. And yet, when he rang at the door of the convent, in a little
provincial street where grass grew between the cobbles, the lay sister who opened
the door to him wasnât startled in the slightest.
âI would like to talk to the
Mother Superior!â he said.
âSheâs in chapel. But once
benediction is finished â¦â
And he was brought into a parlour
compared to whichthe Peetersâ dining room was all dirt and
chaos. You really could see your face in this parquet floor. You got the sense that
not even the slightest thing had changed, that the chairs had stood in the same
place for years, that the clock on the mantelpiece had never stopped, had never been
fast or slow.
In the sumptuously tiled corridors,
sliding footsteps, sometimes whispers. At last, very soft and far away, the sound of
an organ playing.
The people at the Quai des Orfèvres
would probably have been surprised to see a Maigret very much at his ease. When the
Mother Superior came in, he greeted her discreetly, calling her by the name that one
must give to the Ursulines, namely:
âReverend Mother â¦â
She waited, hands on her hips.
âSorry to disturb you, but
Iâd like to ask your permission to visit one of your teachers ⦠I know the
rules forbid it ⦠None the less a personâs life â or at least their liberty â
depends on it â¦â
âAre you from the police as
well?â
âI think you received a visit from
an inspector?â
âA gentleman who said he was from
the police, who made some noise and left shouting that weâd be hearing from
him again â¦â
Maigret apologized for him, remained
calm, polite and deferential. He uttered a few deft phrases, and a short time later
a lay sister was instructed to tell Maria Peeters that there was someone to see
her.
âA girl of great merit, I think,
Reverend Mother?â
âI have only the very best things
to say of her. At first the chaplain and I didnât want to take her because of
her parentsâ trade ⦠Not the grocery ⦠But the fact that they serve drink ⦠We
passed over that, and we can only congratulate ourselves ⦠Yesterday, coming down
the stairs, she twisted her ankle, and since then sheâs been in bed, very
downcast, because she knows itâs causing us trouble â¦â
The lay sister came back at last.
Maigret followed her along endless corridors. He met several groups of pupils all
dressed in the same way: black dress with little pleats and blue silk ribbon around
their necks.
At last, on the second floor, a door
opened. The lay sister asked if she should stay or go.
âLeave us, sister â¦â
A very simple little room. Oil-painted
walls, decorated with religious lithographs in black frames and a big crucifix.
An iron bed. A thin figure barely
visible under the covers.
Maigret couldnât see a face. No
one said anything to him. Once the door had closed he stayed motionless for a while,
embarrassed by his wet hat, his thick coat.
At last he heard a muffled sob. But
Maria Peeters still hid her face in the blankets, and stayed turned towards the
wall.
âDonât be upset â¦â he
murmured mechanically. âYour sister Anna must have told you that I come as a
friend â¦â
But that did nothing to calm the girl.
On the contrary! Her body was agitated now by real nervous spasms.
âWhat did the doctor say? Are you
to stay in bed for a long time?â
It was awkward, talking to an invisible
person like that. Particularly given that Maigret didnât even know her!
The sobs came less quickly. She must
have been regaining her composure. She sniffed, and her hand looked for a
handkerchief under the pillow.
âWhy
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