Jeudi 15.02.07 Living next door to malice
Our neighbour Verner is on holidays this week and his wife and young teenage daughter are staying with him. There has been a bit of commotion next door for the past few hours. I’m inside and can only hear mumblings but Nicola who was outside earlier having breakfast seems to think that they’re giving out about her smoking. Nicola has been a bit paranoid lately thinking that people are on a campaign to stop her smoking. It started when our landlady, Arlette, started grumbling and coughing. Sure she has the flu but she’s not exactly one to speak in hushed tons so you can’t help but hear the odd gripe. Apart from that Nicola has been followed around town by two anti-tobacco preachers on separate occasions; they openly chastised her for polluting the universe and ruining her life.
There are bigger culprits than Nicola harming the universe and if anything Nicola is trying to patch up some holes in other people’s worlds. Cloé is depressed. We’ve always thought she was under the thumb but now she’s under the weather. I’m not feeling hunky dory so I decide to stay home while Nic heads into town. Nicola hops on the bus to see Cloé but at the last minute Cloé texts to say that she’s not able to make it. It’s not a wasted journey however as she bumps into a guy from school. He’s a security man from Lycée Technique. His name is Guy. It’s no surprise that he’s a bit pervy and so she’s only too happy to go off to the beach with Oliver for the afternoon. Marjorie and her finer brother, David, are also there and Nicola, never one to pass up a drink or a dashing lad, joins them in the Mayflower for a gargle.
Back at the ranch I’ve been deciding on what to wear for Carnaval. Madame Arlette has left us some costumes to try out. There’s a cool pink chiffon, jingly-jangly belly-dancer skirt, a long black satin skirt, two madras skirts, an assortment of madras scarves and some gold chains. We’ll be well disguised for the celebrations. We could go as natives but our tans aren’t anywhere near as authentic and as my ex bluntly put it – I’d have to fall pretty hard on my nose to look like a local.
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