Désirée (14 page)

"That's obvious," the lackey said. "Have you an invitation?"

I shook my head. "I thought—well, I thought everyone could go in."

"I suppose that would suit this little woman." The man grinned, and stared at me more insolently. "Ladies like you must keep to the rue Honoré and the Palais Royal."

I blushed furiously. "What —what do you mean, citizen?" I spoke with an effort and was so ashamed that I could hardly speak. "I must go in, because there's someone in the house I
must see."

But he simply opened the door and pushed me out. "Mme Tallien's orders—citizenesses are not invited unless they have a
gentleman escort. Or—" he glanced at me contemptuously— "or are you perhaps a personal friend of madame?"

He forced me out and slammed the door in my face.

I joined the curious crowd in the road. The door was opened and shut continually, but some of the girls had pushed themselves in front of me and I could not see Mme Tallien's guests. "It's a new regulation. A month ago we all lot got in without any trouble," a heavily rouged girl remarked, and winked at me. "But some foreign paper published an article saying that Mme Tallien's house was run like a brothel—" The girl giggled and showed gaps between her teeth behind her purple-painted lips.

She herself doesn't care, but Barras makes her keep up appearances," another girl said. And I moved away from her, horrified because loathsome pustules could be seen through her chalky-white face powder. "You're new here, aren't you?" she asked, glancing pityingly at my old-fashioned dress.

"That Barras!" the girl with the purple lips remarked in a trembling voice. "Two years ago he was still paying Lucille twenty-five francs a night, and today he can afford to keep the Beauharnais!" Repulsive little bubbles appeared at the corners of her mouth. "That old goat! Day before yesterday
Rosalie got in with her new friend, that wealthy Ouvrard and she told me that the Beauharnais now has taken up with a very young fellow, an officer who likes squeezing a woman hands and gazing into her eyes—"

"I wonder why Barras stands for that," the girl with the pustules on her face remarked.

"Barras? Why, he asks her to sleep with the officers. Barras wants to be on good terms with men in uniform because heaven knows when he may need them. Besides, he's probably sick to death of her already—Josephine who always wears those white frocks! She's an old she-goat with grown-up children . . ."

"The children are twelve and fourteen, that's not very old," a young man interrupted. "By the way, the Tallien spoke at the National Convention again today."

"You don't say, citizen!" At once the two girls concentrated their attention on the young man. But he leaned down and spoke to me, "You are from the provinces, citizeness? But you've surely seen that the beautiful Thérèse is the first woman to speak in the National Convention? Today she discussed necessary reform in the education of young girls
.
Are you interested in these problems too, citizeness?" He smelled horribly of wine and cheese, and I moved away from him
.

"It's raining, we should go to a coffee house," the girl with the purple lips suggested, and she glanced invitingly at the young man with the horrid breath. "It's raining, citizeness the young man said to me.

Yes, it was raining. My blue dress was getting wet. Besides I was cold. The young man touched my hand as though by chance. At that moment I knew: I can't stand this another moment.

Another hackney carriage rolled up. I elbowed my way through the crowd, rushed over to the carriage like a mad-woman, and bumped into an officer's coat. The man wearing the coat had just left the carriage. He was so terribly tall that I had to look way up to see his features clearly. But his cocked hat was pressed far down on his forehead and I saw only a huge jutting nose.

"I beg your pardon, citizen," I said because the giant recoiled when I rushed at him. "I beg your pardon, but I should like to belong to you."

"What do you want?" the giant asked, startled.

"Yes—for a few moments I'd like to belong to you. You see, ladies aren't allowed to go into Mme Tallien's house without an escort. And I must get in, I must—and I have no escort!"

The officer looked me up and down and didn't seem particularly pleased; but, suddenly making up his mind, he offered me his arm and said, "Come along, citizeness."

The lackey in the hall recognized me at once. He glanced t me indignantly, bowed deeply to the giant and took his coat. I went over to a tall mirror, pushed the soaking strands of
hair out of my face and realized that my nose was shiny. But as I was taking out my powder puff, the giant said impatiently, "Well, are you ready, citizeness?"

I turned quickly. He was wearing a beautifully tailored uniform with heavy gold epaulettes. When I looked up at him again, I noticed that the narrow mouth under the huge nose was closed tight in disapproval. He was obviously annoyed because he had given way and had brought me in with him. And it occurred to me that he probably thought me one of the street girls who were hanging about outside. I was quite hot with shame. "Please excuse me, I didn't know what else to do," I whispered.

When we get inside, you must behave decently and don't disgrace me," he said severely as he bowed stiffly and offered me his arm. The lackey opened a white folding door. We found ourselves in a large room in which there were a great many people. Another servant seemed to shoot up out of the floor and he looked at us questioningly. My companion turned to me brusquely. "Your name?"

No one must know that I am here, I thought quickly. Désirée," I whispered. "Désirée—and what next?" my escort asked irritably. I shook my head desperately. "Please-no other name."

Whereupon the lackey was instructed to announce, Citizeness Désirée," and "General Jean-Baptiste Bernadotte."

"Citizeness Désirée and Citizen General Jean-Baptiste Bernadotte," the servant shouted. The people standing near us turned around. A black-haired woman in a yellow veil-like gown left a group and glided toward us.

"What a pleasure, Citizen General! What a charming surprise—" she twittered, holding out both hands to the giant. A critical glance from very large dark eyes swept over me and rested for the fraction of a second on my filthy shoes.

"You are too kind, Mme Tallien," the giant said, bowing over her hands and kissing—no, not the hands but her white wrists. "My first outing—as usual when a poor soldier from the front has some leave—is to find the magic circle of Thérèse"

"The poor soldier from the front is flattering, as usual! And yet he has already found companionship in Paris—?" Again the dark eyes studied me critically. I tried to achieve some sort of bow. Thereupon Mme Tallien lost the slight interest she had shown in my insignificant person and calmly stood between me and the General. "Come with me, Jean-Baptiste—you must speak to Barras. The Director is in the garden room with that dreadful Germaine de Staël—you know whom I mean—old Necker's daughter, the one who writes one novel after another. We must relieve the Director of her company. He'll be charmed that you . . ."

And then I saw the yellow veil-like material over entirely naked back, and also the back of my giant. Other guests came in between them and me and I found myself left all alone in Mme Tallien's glittering salon.

I concealed myself as best I could in the bay of a window overlooking the huge room, but I couldn't see Napoleon anywhere. True, I saw a lot of uniforms but none of them was as shabby as my fiance's. The longer I stayed the more closely I pressed against the window. Not only was my dress in impossible; my shoes, too, seemed ridiculous, for the ladies were not wearing real shoes, only thin soles without heels. These soles were attached to the feet with narrow gold or silver
straps; the toes were visible, and the toenails were polished pink or in a silvery colour. In one of the adjoining rooms someone was playing the violin, and lackeys in red livery, balancing huge trays with liqueurs and various delicacies, circled among the guests. I gulped down a roll with salmon on it, but I did not enjoy it because I was too excited.

Then two gentlemen came over and stood beside me in the bay of the window. They chatted to each other and took no notice of me. They said that the people of Paris won't tolerate the increasing living costs much longer and that social unrest is inevitable. "If I were Barras, I'd simply shoot down this rabble, my dear Fouché" one of them said languidly, taking some snuff. The other replied, "Well, first he'd have to find a man willing to do the shooting!" In reply, the other, between two sneezes, managed to say that he had that very afternoon seen General Bernadotte among the guests. But the one called Fouché shook his head. "That man? Never on your life." Then he continued, "But what about that little wretch who is running after Josephine?"

At that moment someone in the room clapped his hands and I heard Mme Tallien's twittering voice above the murmuring of the crowd. "Please, all come into the green drawing room—we have a surprise for our friends."

I moved along into the next room with the others, but it was so crowded that I couldn't see what was happening. I only saw that the walls were covered with white and green striped silk. Glasses of champagne were passed around; I had one, too, and then we crowded together more closely still to make way for the hostess. Thérèse passed near me, and I could see that she had nothing on under the yellow veils; the dark-red points of her breasts were clearly visible—it was most indecent. She had taken the arm of a gentleman in a lavender dress coat covered with gold embroidery. He was holding a lorgnon to his eye and looked extremely arrogant. Someone whispered, "Good old Barras is getting fat." So I knew that one of the five directors of France was walking past me.

"Form a circle around the sofa," Thérèse called out and
we obediently placed ourselves around it. Then I saw him!

Right on the sofa. With a lady in white. He was wearing his worn old shoes, but he had beautifully pressed trousers and a new uniform tunic; without insignia of rank or decorations. His thin face was no longer tanned, but unhealthily pale. He sat there very stiffly, staring at Thérèse Tallien as though he expected her to save his soul. The lady next to him was leaning back, resting her arms along the back of the sofa. Her tiny head, with brushed-up curls, was thrown back. Her eyes were half-open; her eyelids were painted silver, and a narrow red velvet ribbon around her neck made it look provocatively white. I knew who she was, the widow Beauharnais, Josephine. Her closed lips smiled derisively and we all followed the direction of her half-closed eyes. She was smiling at Barras.

"Have you all champagne?" That was Tallien's voice. The slender figure in white stretched out a hand, someone gave her two glasses and she offered one to Napoleon. "General your glass." Now she was smiling at him; a very intimate, slightly pitying smile.

"Citizens and citizenesses, ladies and gentlemen, I have the great honour to make an announcement here among our friends, an announcement concerning our beloved Josephine—"

Thérèse's voice was shrill whenever she spoke loudly. How she was enjoying the scene! She remained near the sofa, still holding up her glass. Napoleon had risen and seemed terribly embarrassed. Josephine had again thrown back her childlike curly head, and her silver eyelids were very noticeable. "Our beloved Josephine has decided once more to enter the holy state of matrimony—" Suppressed giggles were audible, while Josephine absent-mindedly played with the red ribbon around her neck. "As I say, holy matrimony—" Thérèse's stopped to heighten the effect of her words, glanced at Barras; he nodded—"Josephine has become engaged to Citizen General Napoleon Bonaparte."

"No!"

I heard the scream as distinctly as the others did. The
scream seemed to pierce the room and hang loosely in the air. A deadly silence followed. I realized a second later that it was I who had screamed.

By that time I was standing in front of the sofa, saw Thérèse's Tallien move away in terror, was conscious of her sweetish scent, and realized that the other woman—the one in white on the sofa—was staring at me. I myself, however, looked only at Napoleon. His eyes were like glass, translucent and without expression. A vein was throbbing at his right temple. We stood opposite each other for an eternity—he and I; but perhaps it was only a fraction of a second. Then I looked at the woman—shining silvery eyelids, tiny wrinkles around her eyes, lips rouged a dark red. How I hated her! I flung my champagne at her feet. The champagne squirted over her dress; she screamed hysterically.

I was running along a rainy wet street. I ran and ran. I don't know how I left the green drawing room and the white drawing room and got to the hall, where I passed the horrified guests who shrank away from me and the lackeys who tried to snatch hold of my arm. I know only that suddenly I was in wet darkness and that I was running by a row of houses, and then turned into another street; that my heart was pounding and that I instinctively found my way to where I wanted to go. I was on a quay, running and stumbling through the rain. I slipped, ran on again and finally reached the bridge. The Seine, I thought—now everything will be all right. I walked slowly along the bridge, leaned against the Parapet and saw many lights dancing in the water. They swayed, up and down—looking so gay. I leaned over farther, the lights danced closer; the rain was rustling down, and I was more alone than I had ever been in all my life. I thought of Mama and of Julie, and that they would forgive me when they knew everything. Napoleon will surely write tonight to his mother or to Joseph to tell them about his engagement. That was my first rational thought. It hurt me so that I could not bear it. So I placed my hands on the parapet and tried to pull myself up and . . .