Chapter 8

Sarah Athelstone was passing the vacuum cleaner through the living room of the presbytery when she heard someone ring the doorbell. Shutting off the vacuum, she stopped at the closet by the front door to slip on a summer dress she kept there just for such occasions and quickly buttoned it closed before opening the door.

“Yes, can I help you?” she asked in English.

“Mme Athelstone... ?” answered the severely dressed woman at the door in French. “My name is Espérance LaBonté. I’m with the DPJ; I’m here because we’ve received a complaint about a young woman that apparently lives in the neighbourhood, someone by the name of Melanie Turgeon. Do you know her?”

Switching over to French, she replied “Yes, I certainly do know her ... she lives across the street. What is this about?”

Ms LaBonté looked at the 18th century-style building with disdain. “In that ... hotel? I’ve heard all sorts of stories about what goes on in there. What sort of person is she?” In her mind, she was already composing the report that would remove the child from that woman’s care.

It was almost as if Sarah could read her mind. “You are totally wrong, you know, from beginning to end. Have you been there, Ma’am... ? No, of course not ... Come in and I’ll talk to you about Mélanie ... Sorry about the mess, my husband went down to the diocese in Montreal and I grabbed the chance to clean up a bit. Would you prefer coffee, tea or something cold?”

When Paul left after his week off, Mélanie felt listless, empty. She couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her; nothing was any different – the second week of the holidays were starting and the pub was as busy as ever. Megan had had to hire another girl as busboy to clear the tables because Aelwen, Jenny and Bess had their hands full just taking orders and serving. Most of the time, Mélanie was still alone behind the bar but when things got too busy, Megan would come to give a hand, pulling drafts.

After a day of turning around in circles and looking for things to bitch about (she had even yelled at Sonny for nothing at all), she decided she couldn’t take it anymore and called Karine.

“Hi, how’s the vacation?”

“The pits! It must be about 50°C around here with a humidex of at least 150%. I miss being at your inn; it was nice there. I’ve had to open all the doors and windows of the flat in the hope of having a bit of a breeze to cool the place down a bit. I’m stretched out naked on the balcony and don’t give a shit if anyone sees me, it’s so bad. Roger and I went down to the Petitprix yesterday when he came back from work to get a room AC but they’re all backordered. Even the fans are backordered ... it’s crazy!”

“How’s that,” asked Mélanie. “Roger’s not on vacation with you?”

“No, dammit! Liberty Packers is screwing around with the personnel; they’re going into lay-offs. Right now, they’re pissing everyone off so they’ll quit and they won’t have to pay termination bonuses. They can’t just cancel vacations because that’s in the contract but they’re moving the days off all over the place and forbidding people taking more than a week at a time and fuck whatever you’ve planned on ... Paul was gone last week but I don’t know where and Roger’s can’t take his before September. You know that, with school starting, September is our big month at the shop. It totally fucked up all our plans for this summer.”

“Yeah, I remember,” said Mélanie. “Paul was here last week but he didn’t mention work at all. He had bought himself a full kit of camping equipment; a six-person tent (he told me he had tried sleeping in a two-person tent once but it was impossible to breathe, let alone move around), a two-burner stove, stackable pots and pans, dishes and everything. He must have spent a thousand bucks. During the day, Sonny, he and I went and did things together; the pool, some biking, things like that. During the evening while I was at work, he used to hang around the pub and shoot darts with the regulars. One day, we went to the zoo, the three of us. Sonny would have loved to go to the aqua-park as well but neither he nor I have bathing suits. Not that I feel like it but it looks like I’ll have to go buy some now that he knows the place exists. I can’t really say it’s too far; it’s right nearby.”

“He gets along well with Sonny?”

“Yeah, you’d think he spent his life with small kids; at the pool, he’d play with him and when Sonny had something to say, Paul listened as if it was the most important thing in the world.”

“And you, what do you think of him?”

“He’s alright ... He’s interesting to listen to. One evening, he stayed till closing, ‘to escort me home’, he said. It was funny to see. He waited till I locked up, followed me up the stairs and, at my door, he thanked me for a beautiful evening, as if we were on a real date. It was cute. Thursday, without saying anything to me, he set it up with Megan to get me an evening off and we went dancing in Valleyfield. That was the first time I’ve gone dancing in a nightclub since I was fifteen. It was a fantastic evening.”

“Oh? And did he kiss you?”

“Oh, come on...”

“And now?”

“What do you mean? I don’t understand ... and fuck it! Was it to tell me that you’re pregnant that you called me... ?”

“It was you that called me! And don’t change the subject. How do you feel now that he’s gone?”

“ ... I dunno ... Er ... actually, I feel like shit. I even screamed at Sonny, this morning.”

“Well, well...”

“What?”

“Well, Girlfriend, you might not know what’s wrong but I do; you’re in love.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

“No, I swear! You can take it from Granny Karine; you’re in love, ass over teakettle!”

The next morning, Mélanie was still chewing over the idea she might be in love with Paul just like a dog would chew an old bone he’d just found. Looking at it objectively, she had to admit she’d never been in love with Butch. At school when she was fourteen, she thought he was sexy with his hair combed like an Italian rock star; a bit like how that Justin whatever was sexy but as far as brains was concerned, a dinner plate was deeper than he was. His only advantage had been that he was handy when that pimp of his aunt’s had wanted to get her into the ‘business’. It was normal, like, that she thanked him in bed but ‘being in love’ – no way!