Doris Lessing - Love, Again

'Good luck is what we all need,' said Jean-Pierre, acknowledging the times we live in.

She went straight to the theatre. In the office, she found the reviews from the dailies. Too soon for the weeklies. 'She Was Poor but She Was Honest' — as a heading — twice. 'An exotic setting does not conceal… ' 'Martinique is obviously just the place for a package holiday.' 'As a feminist I must protest… '

In the afternoon there was the meeting to decide the future. They were all there. Mary Ford had come from Oxfordshire by train. Roy had interrupted his leave to come. He remarked that his wife said she had had enough of men to last her a lifetime, but on the whole he felt confident she would take him back, for the sake of the child. Patrick was there, and Sonia, and Jean-Pierre and, at the last minute, Stephen.

In the few weeks since the end of the run in France, Jean- Pierre had done a lot of work. He was presenting them with plans, not possibilities. Julie Vairon would be put on next year for the two main months of the tourist season, July and August, but there was talk of beginning earlier, in June. He had checked the availability of Henry, Bill, Molly, Susan, Andrew. Henry was the most important and would be free. Bill would not, a pity, since he was more right for the part than the new Paul. Both Molly and Susan would be available, and that left them with a difficult choice. If they wanted the same musicians, they must be engaged now. The singers must be approached at once: they were perhaps the most important element. Andrew was engaged for a film. A pity. It would be hard to find such a good Rémy.

And now he had to tell them something he was afraid they wouldn't like. The town authorities had already agreed that a large stadium, to hold two thousand people, would be built in the woods around Julie's old house. If that shell could be called a house. No, he must insist they listen to him: he knew it didn't sound well, but that was only because the idea was new to them. He himself had had difficulties to start with.

'You are going to cut down trees?' asked Mary.

'Only nine or ten trees need to be cut. They are not very beautiful trees.'

And now there was a silence, while Jean-Pierre, sure of himself and his plans, went to stand tactfully at the window, his back to them, while they looked at each other: that is, the Founding Four did. Patrick had an air of holding a good deal back. Sonia had not been to Belles Rivieres. Stephen seemed to be reserving judgement.

In that silence a good many things were acknowledged. Jean-Pierre and the town authorities had every right to decide what to do with the town's chief asset. The English really had no right to say a word. Yes, they had had the original idea, but that was not something they could stake a claim on for long. Anyway, it was no one's fault — as usual. The gods of tourism were to blame.

Jean-Pierre turned around and said, 'We know it is a shock. It is not the most attractive thing that could happen — I am speaking for myself now. But put yourselves in our place. Julie will bring prosperity to the whole region.'

'It is surely not a region of France that lacks visitors,' said Sarah.

'No, that is true. But Belles Rivieres is just a little town. It has nothing else, only Julie. There will be new hotels and restaurants — they are being planned already. And this will affect all the towns of the area.'

'You haven't said anything about the language,' said Stephen. Of all of them, he must be the most affected by the news of the destruction of the original Julie Vairon — but only Sarah could know that.

'Of course that was discussed. For a while we decided to go back to the French, but we changed our minds. This will sound absurd, but we thought it might even bring bad luck. Julie has been so lucky. To change her completely… but there was the other reason, and that is more important. Most of the tourists in our part of France in summer are English- speaking. And that decided it.'

He waited, but no one said anything.

'And now I must leave you all. I must catch my plane.'

'Next year in Belles Rivieres,' said Roy, for this joke seemed likely to stay, and Mary and Jean-Pierre looked at each other, and Sarah was reminded of Henry's wretched face that morning as she left.

'Oh no, we must discuss it all before that. I hope to see you all… Sarah… Stephen… and you, Mary… ' He nodded at Patrick, and it occurred to them that since Patrick had scarcely been in Belles Rivieres, that nod, with a special smile, was carrying more meaning than they knew the reason for. And Patrick was in fact looking guilty. 'All of you, we will fix a meeting and we will go through everything. I shall telephone Benjamin when I get to my office. Stephen — it would be a sadness for us if you decided to withdraw.' That meant that if Stephen did, there would be other willing angels.

Jean-Pierre left an atmosphere of mourning. The audiences filling the new stadium next year and — presumably — succeeding years would be enjoying successful, fashionable theatre, but only those people who had been there the first year — still this year — would know how rare a bird Julie had been, a magically perfect event that had seemed at its beginnings no more promising than a hundred others, had gathered substance and shape in what it was easy to believe was a series of mere lucky chances, one after the other, blown together by the winds of heaven, and then… but there is only one thing to do at the vanishing away of a wonder: put a clamp on your heart.

And it was only the theatre, after all.

'It's only the theatre,' said Mary, ending their silence and sounding miserable.

Now, finally, they had to decide whether to put Julie Vairon on in London. But it seemed this decision had already been made, for they hardly discussed it.

'Now,' said Sarah to Patrick, 'let's have it.'

Patrick stood before them, grinning. Full of affection, yes, but fuller of a cheeky guiltiness.

'Sarah… guess what… you'll never guess… you'll have to shoot yourself… well, shoot me, then… We can't have victim heroines any more — remember? Do you remember? Well… ' And here he hesitated on the brink, gave Sonia a look of comic despair, plunged on, 'How do you like the idea of a musical?'

'A musical!' protested Stephen.

'Oh, don't tell me,' said Roy, in a fury. 'There's this pathetic little half-caste from Martinique who falls in love with the handsome lieutenant. He ditches her. She earns her living doing the can-can in Cannes. There she is seen by the patrician Rémy — '

'Too complicated,' said Patrick airily.

'No Rémy?' said Stephen.

'No Rémy. She has a child by Paul. She puts her in a convent with the nuns. Julie earns her living as a singer. The master printer wants to make an honest woman of her — '

'But she commits suicide because of…?' enquired Sarah.

'Because she knows the townspeople will never forgive her, or forgive him for marrying her. If he marries her she will ruin his life. There's a great scene where the citizens sing they will boycott his business and bring him to bankruptcy. They won't have that whore Julie. She leaves a suicide note: Remember my Minou! She flings herself under a train. Just like you know who. Last scene: the master printer and Minou, already a nubile nymph sought in marriage by a handsome young lieutenant.'

'You're joking,' said Stephen.

'He's not joking,' said Sonia, sounding huffy. From this it could be seen she was involved with this musical.

'I'm not joking,' said Patrick. 'The libretto is written.'

'You've written it?'

'I've written it.'

'Is she allowed any intelligence?' asked Roy.

'Of course not,' said Sarah.

'I expected you and Stephen to be much more cross than you are,' said Patrick, obviously disappointed.