Hedi Kaddour - Waltenberg

Poirgade stares at the starers, head tilted back, index finger under his chin, a defiant stance that says I refuse to allow the fact that de Vèze the bruiser is in a pickle to make me look like a poltroon in public, the Ambassador is wearing well, that little green ribbon in the lapel keeps a man young, he doesn’t like me but he’s happy to have me on hand so that he can be seen on the great staircase, I can’t stand his sort, a skirt-chaser, a show-off, a big mouth, serve him right this business is catching up on him now, albatross around his neck, won’t be long before he’s all washed up, got to be nice to the flotsam so they last longer, I loved the interview you did for Le Figaro , Mr Ambassador, you won’t have pleased everybody by reminding them of the Atlantic and the Urals, but really first-rate, enjoy it while you can, Excellency, you’re nowhere near getting yourself out of the mire, you know, I’m younger than you, I never knew those days, not as an adult, but I agree completely with you, I support your ideas unequivocally, you have no idea how far I go to support you, Sexcellency, I support you as the rope supports the hanged man, and I am prepared to be so supportive as to untie the rope just as you’re about to choke, but only so that I can pull it tight again.

De Vèze doesn’t like Poirgade, he has ‘I can talk to you because I’m above suspicion’ written all over him, Poirgade tells him: look at these people, they say hello but when they walk past they stay close to the wall, they scuttle, de Vèze could have stayed silent, he’s going to be late for the Minister, but he can’t resist adding a word about his comrades from the days of that Great Adventure who are now making themselves scarce, do you remember, says Poirgade: ‘The Great Adventure is buggered!’ shows we’re getting old, must have been a dozen years ago, I reckon? De Vèze remembers very well, the dinner in Singapore and over the meal the exclamation, the last word, at the time he didn’t give a damn, ‘The Great Adventure is buggered!’ words spoken by a drunk, and today the fear is everywhere, old companions backing off, de Vèze can’t stand Poirgade and yet here he is speaking to him in confidence, the weakness of his old companions who are ditching him, why are you telling him all this? you’re a coward too, you’re only talking to this grey diplomat because he dares to be seen with you in public, a beard which just circles his mouth, like a monkey’s bum, you never did like the man.

Poirgade has made the most of his opportunity and now de Vèze understands why he wanted to speak to him, heard anything more about that couple? The historian and his wife? As if you didn’t know, you hypocrite, it hardly seems possible that Poirgade is unaware that the historian and his wife have divorced, or that he doesn’t know what the grounds for it were, he looks pleasantly at de Vèze who feels like replying: I don’t know about the husband but the latest on the wife is that when I’m in Paris I still give her a good rogering, it works out very nicely, thanks, she’s got a bit of a short fuse and doesn’t care for red braces, but is very affectionate in her middle age.

Poirgade is a busybody who sprays gossip around, people think he sells information about strategy but in reality it’s the gossip that interests his clients, his clientele is apparently drawn from the highest levels, international seminars, those dinners, he measures his words carefully over the coffee, heard the latest? Handsome de Vèze, still shacked up with Morel’s ex! Wonderful example of fidelity, she leads him an awful dance but he always goes back, de Vèze is about to ditch Poirgade on the stairs, Poirgade senses it coming, I must leave you, Mr Ambassador, I gather the Minister is waiting, good day.

‘The Great Adventure is buggered!’ and it’s not in this ministerial office that de Vèze is likely to retrieve it, with this other dimwit with the crewcut and cockerel strut they’ve foisted on him, and all on account of a rumour, hearsay, yes many tongues wagging and many ears flapping, it’s hard to say exactly what’s being said but it’s common knowledge, it acquires credibility by sheer weight of numbers, no one’s laughing now, and when the talking stops it’s worse, there’s a shabby silence every time you want to talk to the allies, you go to meetings, to begin with everything’s fine, the flags flap, present arms, doors are opened for you, people greet you, there is warmth in the handshakes and because you’re there they make the most of the opportunity to discuss the diameter of waste-paper baskets, even the Germans give you the treatment, though every six months one of them feels the need to jump out of the window of his office.

The Iron Curtain? The Wall? The Germans are all jolly good pals! Every summer they all get together in Hungary and after the fourth glass of schnapps there is only one Greater Germania, über alles, with Bayreuth as capital! And this stupid clod of a Minister allows the strutting plumber to say his piece, my God they’re giving me instructions, a mole, at home in France, they take us for Englishmen, and today the English are laughing their socks off, saying we’re just imitating them.

The worst of it is that everyone knows now, and the President can’t come up with anything better than to put a woman on the case, of course he can bring women into whatever he likes, create all the State secretariats he wants for the distaff side, but he shouldn’t bring them into serious matters.

And he did bring one in, intriguing name, Chagrin, Michèle Chagrin, a spinster’s name, flat-chested, large chin, hair prematurely grey which she hasn’t bothered to dye, the President made her responsible for the file, direct orders from the Élysée, Chagrin began her career in the Army Ministry in 1964 or ’65, ex-student of the École nationale d’administration, did not graduate with flying colours, no way could she be called an intelligence expert, her field was administrative law, but for those military types even legal expertise was too much in a woman, they pushed her out, she left Paris.

What did she do then? she got herself noticed in the provinces for her serious approach to work, in the Auvergne, a prefect who says to the Minister of Finance I’ve got a remarkable woman in charge of my legal department, and the Minister poached her from the prefect, the minister becomes President with a capital P, Chagrin follows him, still on the legal side.

When the tale of the mole became a subject for a proper file, and a proper file is a file with a legal dimension, someone was needed to manage it properly, she was on hand, at least she was good at keeping on top of files, she ended up as overall coordinator, a woman of the shadows, never seen in receptions, never observed outside office hours, she was neither acolyte nor friend.

The men who came to report to the Élysée didn’t like her, they’d found a nickname for her, and they’d made sure she knew what it was, she even used it herself on occasions: ‘Lady Piddle’, civilians had never accepted her any more than the military did, but there had to be someone — not to make them agree, that was impossible, and just as well — but to provide liaison, syntheses, avoid catastrophic short-circuits, yes, and years down the line it was still her nickname, a rather good one, don’t you say it isn’t, I like it, and it suits me better and better because I’m getting on now and I stay in my small corner, even if it is in the Elysée, and also because when they walk into my little old lady’s office they get more and more nervous because they’ve got older too, because I know more and more about them and because I’ve acquired more and more responsibilities, not power, power is political.

I am Michèle Chagrin, civil service administrator, my responsibilities are defined by departmental order, I take no action which lies outside my official remit, I draft notes, and when a note seems to be satisfactory, then an officer, a colonel or higher, may be sent to Mourmelon or Lure, what a life, that’s why it makes them nervous when they walk into my office, they’re all incompetent, they see traitors everywhere, that prevents them from rooting out the real spies, especially the one who’s been making life difficult for us these last ten years, yes, I’ve also been useless at winkling the swine out, but that’s no reason for not managing the file properly.