Fragment #63 - We are just going to say Good bye.

“Yes, I know, Steve, I know. But I feel connected to these men. No, don’t look at me like that. I’m not physically connected, but in my soul. For some reason… I can’t explain…”
Steve looks really moody. I give up. It’s not as if I was going to have dirty sex with that man on one of the tables. Or as if I was going to do black magic, or voodoo…
“Look, I say goodbye, and we go.” He still looks extremely moody. I think half of this attitude is due to the fact that he doesn’t speak the language. Promise, when we come back, I stop speaking French for a month, and next time we go on holidays, we’ll go somewhere they speak English. But just now, I want to do this.
We reach the shop. I stop at the doorstep. The shop is half empty. I expect to find someone on the floor, assaulted. Steve grabs my arm.
“You’re not going in there, are you?”
“Come on, there’s nobody in here.”
“Charlie, you’re not serious! This place is wretched, and obviously the owner has got trouble with the local mafia!”
“Well, if they’ve been killed, someone has to know, and we could call the services!”
He shrugs his shoulders, but I know he’s terribly worried for me, and also amazingly ashamed to be still afraid, and not being able to go ahead. I know, but there is nothing I can do about it just now.
I step in, Mr Malvo, the Sofa guy, shows up, looking a bit confused. I start thinking that it might as well be his usual look.
“Salut, miss Collomb. Qu'est-ce que vous faites là tous les deux ?”
“Bonjour... Appelez-moi Charlie, s'il vous plaît. Nous venons vous dire au revoir, nous prenons l'avion demain, pour rentrer à Glasgow.” I give a quick look around, I don’t see the owner.
“Votre père n'est pas là?”
“Désolé, il est parti ce matin.”
I can’t believe what I am hearing.
“Ah bon? Il vous a laissé ici tout seul pour tout déménager?”
“Tu le connais pas, Charlie. Ce type, c'est pas un adepte des relations humaines, si tu vois ce que je veux dire.” he says as if it was obvious.
I smile politely. I don’t think right now is the time to discuss human relationships.
“Et vous, vous allez vous installer ici?”
“Oh que non, je rentre en France demain. Marre de l'Afrique, fait trop chaud pour moi ici.”
“Vous allez revoir la belle Dijonnaise alors?” I wink at him, maliciously. I like that guy. He’s simple, frank, true.
“La belle Dijonnaise ? Tu parles de ma ville ?”
“Oui, c'est toujours comme ça que mon père parle de Dijon...” Shit, why did I have to mention my Dad again? I bit my lip out of spite. I decide to change the subject.
“Vous, euh... vous êtes antiquaire, vous aussi?”
“Non, non non, je suis propriétaire d'un bar. Oh, je suis bête, j'allais oublier de vous en parler... Si vous passez par Dijon, faudra pas hésiter à venir. Ca s'appelle le Dionysos, rue Amiral Roussin. Un chouette bar, vraiment.”
“Je n'en doute pas. Le Dionysos... Ce doit être la fête tous les soirs, avec un nom pareil!” I’m trying to light up the spirit.
“Ca reste décent, miss Collomb, la fille d'un diplomate s'y sentirait à l'aise comme n'importe qui !” This time, he winks at me. This guy is really great.
“Dans ce cas, je mettrai ma plus belle robe lorsque je viendrai.” I laugh lightly. I feel better now. “Vous avez dit que vous partiez demain: par quel avion? Enfin, si ça ne vous dérange de me le dire, bien sûr.”
I wait a little and add after a silence.
“Nous pourrions peut-être aller à l'aéroport ensemble?”
I said that at the top of my head.
Geez, Steve is going to kill me.