Delicacy (24 page)

He’d tried to reach her several times. To no avail. Her telephone was turned off. He couldn’t work. He walked in circles. This was accomplished very quickly, given the size of his narrow office. What could he do? The confidence of the last few days was disintegrating rapidly. Their lunch together played in a loop in his head. “What counts is knowing what appetizer you’re going to have.” He remembered having said something like that. How was it possible to speak that way? It wasn’t necessary to look for an answer. He hadn’t been at his best. She’d said, hadn’t she, that she was lost; and perched on his cloud, he’d been capable of nothing more than offering her a few superficial phrases.
Tom Thumb
! In what world was he living? Certainly not a world where women left you their address before running away. It was so obvious that everything was his fault. He made women run away. She was probably even going to become a nun. Taking trains and planes to get out of the air he breathed. He felt sick. Sick for having acted so poorly. The emotion of love is the mea culpa of emotions. You may end up thinking that the other’s hurt all comes from you. You may think—mad as it always is—that some demiurgic movement has placed you right at the heart of the heart of the other. That life comes down to a bell jar of pulmonary valves. Markus’s world was Natalie’s. It was an entire, all-embracing world where he was simultaneously responsible for everything and for less than nothing.

And the ordinary world was coming back to him. Slowly, he managed to regain control of his mind. To balance white and black. He thought again of all the affection of their moments
together. That truly genuine affection that couldn’t die away like this. The fear of losing Natalie had clouded his mind. His anxiety was his vulnerability, that same vulnerability that could also be where his powers of attraction lay. By linking vulnerabilities, you reach a kind of strength. He didn’t know what to do, no longer wanted to work, no longer thought about his day in a rational way. He wanted to be crazy, to run away, too, to take a taxi and board the first train that came along.

One Hundred

Then he was called to the director of human resources. Obviously, everybody wanted to see him. He went there without the slightest apprehension. He had gotten over any fear of authority. Everything had been nothing but a ploy for several days. Mr. Bonivent welcomed him with a big smile. Immediately Markus thought, This smile is really a murder. It’s essential for a director of human resources to look as though he’s as concerned about the career of an employee as he’d be if it were a question of his own life. Markus noticed that Bonivent was worthy of his post.

“Oh, Mr. Lundell … what a pleasure to see you. I’ve been keeping my eye on you for some time, you know …”

“Really?” he answered, certain (and rightly so) that this man had just discovered his existence.

“Of course … everyone’s career counts for me … and I must even admit that I have a genuine affection for you. Your way of never making any waves, never asking for anything. It’s very unpretentious, and if I wasn’t somewhat conscientious, well, I wouldn’t have noticed your presence at the heart of our company …”

“Oh …”

“You’re the employee that every employer dreams of.”

“That’s nice. Could you tell me why you wanted to see me?”

“Oh, that’s so like you! Efficiency! Efficiency! We don’t lose any time! If only everybody was like you!”

“So?”

“Fine … I’m going to be frank with you about the situation: management is offering you a job as team leader. With a significant pay raise, as goes without saying. You’re an essential part of the strategic repositioning of our company … and I must say I’m not unhappy with this promotion … because there was a moment when I actively supported it.”

“Thank you … I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, of course, we’ll facilitate all the administrative steps necessary for the transfer.”

“The transfer?”

“Yes. The job is in Stockholm. Where you’re from!”

“But my going back to Sweden is out of the question. I’d rather go to the unemployment office than to Sweden.”

“But …

“There is no but.”

“But yes there is. I don’t think you have a choice.”

Markus didn’t bother answering and left the office without another word.

One Hundred One

The Circle of Contradictions

Created in late 2003 with the objective of introducing the NADHR
n
to HR professionals, the Circle of Contradictions brings together DHRs once a month at the Institute of Human Resources to discuss issues that concern those DHRs who must deal with the very crux of company paradoxes. These monthly meetings strive to be intelligently iconoclastic; sensitive subjects are dealt with in a professional if offbeat tenor. Humor is welcome, but officialese mumbo-jumbo is not!
^o

One Hundred Two

Usually Markus took his time walking through the hallways. He’d always considered these movements from one place to another as breaks. He was perfectly capable of getting up and saying, “I’m going to stretch my legs,” in the same way others would go out for a cigarette. But by that point he was finished with all that. He charged. It was so strange to see him coming forward like that, as if propelled by rage. He was a souped-up diesel-engine car. There really was something souped-up about him: some sensitive chords had been struck, and they went straight to the heart.

He burst into his boss’s office. Charles looked hard at his employee and instinctively placed his hand to his cheek. Markus stood stock still in the middle of the room, holding back his rage. Charles dared to say, “You know where she is?”

“No, I don’t. All of you must stop asking me where Natalie is. I don’t know.”

“I just spoke to the clients on the telephone. They’re furious. I can’t get over the fact that she could do that to us!”

“I understand her perfectly.”

“What do you want with me?”

“I’d like to tell you two things.”

“Quickly. I’m in a hurry.”

“The first is that I refuse your offer. How low of you. I don’t know how you’re going to look at yourself in the mirror anymore.”

“Who told you I look at myself?”

“Fine, I don’t care what the hell you do or don’t do.”

“And the second?”

“I quit.”

Charles was stupefied by the man’s speed of reaction. He hadn’t hesitated an instant. He was refusing the offer and leaving the company. How could Charles have handled the situation so badly? And yet, no. Perhaps it was what he wanted? Seeing both of them run off with their unfortunate affair. Charles kept looking at Markus and couldn’t read anything on his face. Because there was a kind of frozen rage on it. Which annihilated any readable expression. However, Markus had begun to walk toward him, slowly, with a confidence that was out of proportion. As if motivated by some unknown force. So strong that Charles couldn’t avoid feeling afraid, very afraid.

“Now that you’re not my boss anymore … I can …”

Markus didn’t finish his sentence; his fist finished it for him. It was the first time he’d hit anyone. And he regretted not having done it before. Having looked for words to handle situations too many times.

“You can’t do that! You’re insane!” shouted Charles.

Markus came toward him again, made as if to hit him again. Charles reared back, terrified. He sat down in a corner of his office. And he stayed down in that position long after Markus left.

One Hundred Three

October 29, 1960 in the Life of Muhammad Ali

In Louisville, he won his first professional fight, based on points, against Tunney Hunsaker.

One Hundred Four

When she arrived at the Lisieux station, Natalie rented a car. She hadn’t driven in a very long time. She was worried that she’d lost the automatic reflexes. The weather wasn’t helping; it was beginning to rain. But she was filled with such intense weariness that for the moment nothing could frighten her. She drove faster and faster on small roads, saying bonjour to sadness. The rain interfered with her vision; at moments, she couldn’t see anything.

That’s when something happened. In the flash of a second, just that way, as she drove on. She saw the scene of the kiss with Markus again. At the moment the image appeared, she hadn’t been thinking of him. Far from it. The vision suddenly forced itself into her consciousness. She began to think about the moments she’d spent with him. As she continued to drive, she began to regret leaving without saying a word to him. She didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of it. Her escape had been so rapid. It certainly was the first time she’d left the office that way. She knew she’d never go back to it, that a part of her life was over now. It was time to drive. However, she decided to stop at a service station. She got out of the car and looked around her. She
didn’t recognize anything. She’d probably made a wrong turn. Night was falling, it was deserted. And the rain completed this classic triptych of the imagery of despair. She sent a message to Markus. Just to tell him where she was. Two minutes later, she got the following answer: “I’m taking the first train for Lisieux. So much the better if it pleases you.” Then a second message immediately after: “And what’s more, it almost rhymes.”