Chapter 9: Season 1 - St Tropez

“We will have to leave Cannes, Rafael. The cost of our hotel accommodation has been increased due to the film festival beginning next week. The money I won at the casinos has been expended on the Beauchamp’s; their hotel suite and everything else Madame Beauchamp managed to squeeze out of me. Not that there was much left to squeeze after her daughter had done with me!” The Chevalier gave me an uncharacteristic grin before continuing. “I cannot return to the casinos to replenish my funds as I have been told, in so many words, I have outstayed my welcome. There does not seem to be any high stake card games in town and we can’t afford to wait until the film festival, when no doubt there will be some heavy hitters arriving with bulging wallets and similar sized egos. We will move on to Saint-Tropez where there are plenty of casino hotels and easy pickings for card players. Many millionaires moor their floating gin places, aka yachts, at the place and fancy themselves as hard-nosed poker players. Added to them are all those gullible people who visit Saint Tropez looking for another Bridget Bardot, as if there will ever be such a female like her again.”

I was most disappointed to be leaving Cannes before the film festival took place. As Lisette Closteau had remarked, I considered myself something of a cinema aficionado. From an early age I was a regular customer at Cine Civic, Le Boulou’s only cinema, a family run establishment where the proprietor, Monsieur Fremont, showed an eclectic choice of French films along with what he considered to be classics of the art of cinema from various European, American and Japanese directors. Consequently I enjoyed a first rate education in cinematography and consider myself quite knowledgeable about the Nouvelle Vague and Cinéma Vérité films of the French directors Louis Malle, Claude Chabrol, François Truffaut, and Jean-Luc Godard. I have the usual French disdain for Hollywood’s mass produced goggle fodder designed for the teenage market, and those franchise type films like Die Hard, Mission Impossible and the Bourne series, where one plot, and in the case of Die Hard one under vest, is employed over and over again. I admit there are some great American film directors (Ford, Tarantino, Huston, Scorsese and Wilder come to mind), and can appreciate the technical brilliance of the many CGI heavy movies currently made in the USA. I would have liked to remain in Cannes to view some of the films competing for the Palme d’Or and the other categories, but hopefully there would be other years to visit the festival, and without money there was nothing for it but to move on.

It was surprising, and rather amusing, to discover the Chevalier was still infatuated with the once delectable but now quite decrepit Bridget Bardot. She didn’t resemble his usual bed companion, being far too aware of her sensuality and what that did to a man, although on reflection I suppose Bernadette Beauchamp could be likened to a young Bridget Bardot. Of course ‘La Bardot’ was now an old woman and a recluse, yet ‘And God created woman’ is routinely shown at the cinema in St Tropez as a tribute to the person who put the small fishing village on the international map. I expect in time they will erect a statue to her.

The Chevalier was in an ebullient mood as we sped along the D559 towards St Tropez, not a humour he often displayed. He was not a miserable person per se but was somewhat reserved and did not often show emotion. In fact, at times he reminded me of my introspective father. However, as he spun the steering wheel effortlessly around some frightening hairpin bends, he had a whimsical smile on his face and was humming a tune. Mind you, after two weeks of almost nonstop fornication with a beguiling nymphet like Bernadette Beauchamp even the cast of Les Miserables would have been in high spirits. i thought it an opportune moment to ask questions that had bothered me since meeting Madame and Mam’selle Beauchamp. I started off with what I thought an innocuous query.

“Why were the Beauchamps staying in such a dump as that sleazy motel? I would have thought Madame Beauchamp had more expensive tastes.”

The Chevalier negotiated a tricky S bend before replying. “Because, my dear Rafael, Helena Beauchamp is a cunning and conniving woman who uses her daughter as bait to land a free holiday.” He could see I had no idea what he was talking about. “Would you say that Mam’selle Bernadette was sexy?”

“Super sexy. Sex on a stick in fact,”

He nodded. “Extremely and expensively sexy. Her mother auctioned her off between me and two other men eager to bed the girl. The price rocketed, and it was only at the railway station when I saw one of my co-bidders getting on the same train as the Beauchamps I realised I had been duped and taken to the cleaners. One of my co-bidders, possibly her husband, was in cahoots with Madam Beauchamp and kept topping my and the other fool’s bids. I have memorised the man’s face and if I ever meet him again I will extract the sum of money I paid for Bernadette from his hide. That being said, she was worth every centime.”

“But I thought you were only attracted to young girls with an air of innocence, and she doesn’t...”

“Yes, it’s true I am drawn to young girls who display a veneer of virginal innocence overlaying a sensuality awaiting release, and Bernadette certainly does not fit the type. When I first saw Bernadette I experienced the same emotion I had had for Clothide, a girl I met when I was a no more than a boy. It was uncanny; the two girls could not be more dissimilar in looks and nature.”

‘Clothide!’ Mentally, I congratulated Lisette Closteau. She had suspected the Chevalier was searching for a replica of a former love when choosing his young female companions. Lisette had been correct and I realised she must indeed have a gift to define peoples’ innermost feelings. However, I was still confused as to why the Chevalier had moved the Beauchamps into the Hotel Metro at his expense.

“But why move her and her mother to our hotel? Agreed the motel was sleazy, and no doubt the rooms would be small but...”

“That was the price for unlimited access to Bernadette. A five star hotel suite and full board paid by the winner of the auction. A free holiday for the Beauchamps, all paid for by a beau chump!” He had the good grace to laugh at himself, and I joined in to be polite.

We continued along the D559 while I digested the information. Madame Beauchamp used Bernadette as a lure to inveigle her way to a cost free holiday living in a suite at a five star hotel. That seemed to be no better than being a pimp and living off the earnings of her prostituted daughter, or at least enjoying a vacation earned by her daughter vacationing on her back.

“After being cozened by Madam Beauchamp I will go back to using Grafin von Eylau’s website for hook-ups, although I can’t afford her fee of five hundred euros just yet,” the Chevalier said a few kilometres later.

I was astounded. “Five hundred euros to meet up with a pair of females? No wonder you thought it cheaper to find your own.”

The Chevalier gave a laugh of sorts. “The Beauchamps showed me that to be a false economy,” he said. “From now on I will use Irma’s website. All her clients have a credit rating check carried out before being accepted. Her introduction fee also ensures that everyone on her list has a certificate stating they are free from any sexually transmitted disease. She keeps a copy of her clients’ certificates that must be updated yearly, preferably just before the start of the season, although Irma provides female and male companions throughout the year...”

“What about the Beauchamps? They are not on the Grafin’s list and could be infected!” I confess I hadn’t given a thought about unprotected sex with Helena but now I was concerned, and that showed in my voice.

The Chevalier calmed my fears. “Madame Beauchamp showed me their certificates and they are both STD free. Naturally Madame Beauchamp checked our certificates with equal care.”

I gave a great sigh of relief. “Well, I can see now that paying the Grafin’s fee allows one peace of mind.”

“It is not just peace of mind, Rafael. Should any of Irma’s clients infect any other of her clients she will pay all the medical expenses of the infected person, including any loss of earnings. She recoups the money from the person who has done the infecting; they are sued for breach of contract and pay a huge indemnity, not that any such thing has happened as yet.” The Chevalier shrugged his shoulders. “But I will not able to use Grafin Irma von Eylau’s website for some time yet as Helena Beauchamp has brought me to near penury. I haven’t enough money to pay for an introduction or even for decent hotel accommodation. I will win enough to do both when I get into a card game, but first I need a pile of money for entry to the high stake card games the wealthy yacht owners hold. How much cash have you, Rafael?”

“Only about thirty euros. Bernadette loved those cream Madeleines sold in the little patisserie behind Rue Rouary but never offered to pay.”

“No, she is too much like her mother, and the Beauchamps are highly skilled in the art of living cost free. You never asked her for anything in exchange? Payment in kind, so to speak.”

“Certainly not, Chevalier. I would never paddle in your pool without permission.” Besides, I thought ruefully, Bernadette never left the Chevalier’s bed other than to feed her face at my expense.

He clapped me on my shoulder. “You are a good man Rafael Planchette, and I will see you get your reward, but alas, it will not be for some time yet. Fortunately I have an old friend living in St Tropez who will put us up until such time as we can afford a hotel suite.”

Two hours after leaving Cannes we arrived in St Tropez. The Chevalier’s friend had a small farmhouse tucked away in the Bagary area of the town. The surrounding pastureland had long been sold for housing but one or two outbuildings remained, now converted into holiday homes, and the Chevalier and I shared what had probably been the byre.

The owner of the place greeted the Chevalier with a bearlike hug. In fact the fellow was bearlike; a huge hulk of a man with a shaggy beard and a mop of unkempt hair, who had served in the Foreign Legion along with the Chevalier and Philippe Soissons.

“We will only be here for a short time, Mathieu,” the Chevalier assured our ursine host. “No doubt you have tourists booked in here?”

“Stay as long as you like, Maurice. I do have guests arriving in three days’ time but I can find them somewhere else if need be.”

Later that day the Chevalier revealed his plans. “I will get into one of the many high stake card games that take place on the luxury yachts in the marina. Of course I need to raise the cash to allow me to sit at the high stake table. I will borrow ten thousand euros from a moneylender and use the Mercedes as collateral and then...”

“But the car is a hired vehicle. Won’t you need documentation to prove ownership before a moneylender will part with any cash?”

“Indeed I will, Rafael. This is why I shall hunt down Pierre Printemps, an inhabitant of St Tropez and forger par excellence who owes me a favour or two. Meantime you had better find employment as we are without funds and it will take me a day to get hold of him.”

I found employment as a waiter at a pavement café of a beach front hotel/ restaurant, similar to the Café Pavé in Biarritz. The Chevalier appeared at one of my tables a day after I had started work at the café.

“Treat me as a customer and not as someone you know, Rafael. I will be meeting Pierre here later today. He is extremely paranoid and if he thought you and I knew each other he would probably bolt.”

“Certainly, Monsieur,” I said as if taking the Chevalier’s order, which I was of course. Pierre the forger, a skinny, ferret faced man constantly looking over his shoulders as if fearing the heavy hand of the gendarmerie was about to descend on them, arrived a few hours later. He and the Chevalier came to an agreement and after a hastily downed cappuccino Pierre scuttled away through the crowds of tourists.

“Pierre will deliver my documents here tomorrow at ten. I shall be in funds an hour later and at a card game by the afternoon.” The Chevalier declared with a smile of satisfaction on his face. And so it was.