Four Weddings And A Funeral 1 page

Revenge

John Bookworm

Chapter one

Vernon

The Raquin family lived in the town of Vernon, in Normandy. Madame Raquin had a small drapers shop in the town, where she worked hard for nearly twenty-five years. Madame Raquin's business was successful and she was able to save money. Then her husband died and Madame Raquin became a widow. A few years later, she decided to sell her business and have an easier life.

After she had sold the business, Madame Raquin had quite a lot of money. With some of this money, she was able to rent a little house with a garden. The house stood on a bank of the River Seine. The pretty garden went down to the river and the house was surrounded by fields and trees.

Madame Raquin was now more than fifty years old and she lived happily in her quiet little house with her son, Camille, and her niece, Therese. Camille Raquin was twenty years old and Therese was a few years younger. Camille Raquin had been ill all his life. He was small and thin, with a pale, blotchy face.

Camille's mother had spoilt her son when he was a child. She had worried about him and she had done everything for him. He had had many illnesses and she had looked after him with great care. She still treated him as if he was a sickly child.

Camille had often been too ill to go to school and he had not been well educated. His empty mind was as weak as his body. Camille's mother wanted her son to stay at home with her for ever. But he wanted to meet other people. When he was eighteen, Camille had got a job as a clerk in a small office. The boring work pleased the stupid young man.

Camille thought of nothing and no one but himself. His mother did everything for him, but he did not love her. He was now a selfish and vain young man. Camille was a man, but his body was as weak as a child's. His pale face, with its thin red beard, always had a stupid, angry expression. But Madame Raquin's feelings for her son had never changed. She had loved the sickly child. Now she loved the selfish, stupid, young man. This love made Camille angry with his mother and he was often rude to her. Madame Raquin did not care. Her love for her son was the most important thing in her life. She would always look after Camille.

Therese Raquin was Madame Raquin's niece. Therese's father had been a captain in the French army. He had spent many years fighting in North Africa. In Algeria, he had met and married Therese's mother, a beautiful Algerian woman.

Sixteen years ago, Madame Raquin had been surprised when her brother had come to her house in Vernon. He was holding a two-year-old child in his arms.

'Here is Therese, my little daughter,' Captain Degans had said to his sister. 'The poor child's mother is dead, so I've brought my Therese home to France, and to you. I must soon return to the army in Algeria. There is no one to look after my daughter there. You are Therese's aunt and I'm asking you to help me. I'm giving my Therese to you. Please will you look after her?'

Madame Raquin smiled. 'I've always wanted a daughter,' she said. 'Leave the dear little girl with me. I shall love her as I love my own child. She can take my married name - Raquin. Your Therese and my Camille will grow up together in a safe and happy home.'

Therese grew up strong and healthy, but her aunt treated the girl like her sickly cousin. Madame Raquin kept both children in warm rooms. Sometimes she made Therese take Camille's medicine.

'Therese,' Madame Raquin often said to her niece, 'Camille is ill again. Sit quietly by the fire so that Camille can sleep.'

Therese had grown into an unusual-looking young woman. She had thick black hair and large dark eyes. Her face was pale and she had a long nose and pale thin lips. Sometimes, eighteen-year-old Therese looked very plain. But at other times she looked very beautiful.

Every evening, Camille came home from his office to eat the meal that his mother had made for him. Then the young man sat looking at books until it was time to sleep.

Therese never read books and Camille thought that she was stupid. The two young people almost never spoke to each other.

Every evening, Therese would sit calmly and silently. The young woman wanted to run and dance, but she did not. Sometimes she sewed some clothes. Sometimes she did nothing. Sometimes Therese just sat looking at the flames of the fire. Francois, Madame Raquin's big tabby cat, sat and stared at the fire too.

Madame Raquin was pleased with her quiet, family life. She was happy and cheerful. Every evening, she did her sewing and made careful plans for the family's future.

'I'm so pleased that your father brought you to us,' Madame Raquin said to Therese one evening. 'And I'll be very happy when you and Camille marry. That is my dearest wish, Therese. And I know that you will be happy together. But we'll wait until you are twenty-one, my dear.'

Therese nodded, but she said nothing. She looked across the room at Camille, but he had fallen asleep.

On warm days in the summer, Therese sometimes went down to the river. She lay in the long grass on the river bank. She looked like a cat who is waiting to catch a mouse.

Therese loved to feel the heat of the sun. She loved to watch the water of the river and listen to the sound that it made. Therese felt more alive. But she kept all these strong feelings to herself. No one ever knew her thoughts.

In the Raquins' little house by the fast-flowing river, every day was the same. Every day was quiet and peaceful.

Camille sometimes became angry with his mother. She was always worried about his health. Sometimes on summer evenings, Camille would take Therese walking by the river. He held her hand and pulled her along the path. He laughed at her and tried to make her angry. Sometimes he pushed her off the path.

One evening, Camille pushed his cousin so hard that she fell to the ground. Therese jumped up as quickly as a cat. Her eyes were bright with anger and she hit Camille hard with her fists. The sickly young man fell to the ground and looked up at the girl in surprise. He was very frightened. He never tried to make Therese angry again.

Soon Therese was twenty-one and it was time for her to marry Camille. Madame Raquin spoke kindly to her young niece when they were alone.

'You don't remember your father or your mother, my dear,' Madame Raquin said. 'Your father was a brave soldier and he fought and died for his country. I never knew the lady who became his wife. But she must have been beautiful, like you, Therese.

'Your father and mother only had a short time together,' Madame Raquin went on. 'I hope that you and my son will be married for many happy years!'

Therese stood up and kissed her aunt. But the strange, quiet girl did not say a word.

And so Camille and Therese were married. On the night of her wedding, Therese did not go to her own bedroom.

She walked quietly into her cousin's bedroom. That was the only way that her life changed.

The next morning, Camille walked downstairs as calmly as usual. He took no notice of his wife. Therese behaved as she had always done. She was silent and her face did not show her thoughts or feelings.

Chapter two

The Passage du Pont-Neuf

A week after his marriage, Camille told his mother about his plans for the future.

'Until now, you have planned my life for me,' Camille said rudely. 'I've taken all the medicines that you have given me and I've never complained. I'm a married man now, but you still treat me like a child. I want things to be different. There's going to be a change in all our lives. I'm going to live in Paris. You and Therese are coming with me!'

Madame Raquin was very surprised. 'My dear Camille, I've lived in Vernon all my life!' she said. 'I've worked hard and made a good home for us here in the country. I don't want to live in Paris.'

'But I do,' Camille replied. 'That is what I want. We will leave Vernon at the end of the month.'

No one asked Therese what she wanted.

Madame Raquin did not sleep well that night. But she thought carefully about her son's words. She wanted Camille to be happy. Then she would be happy too. Soon Madame Raquin had a plan of her own.

'This is what we will do,' she said cheerfully the next morning at breakfast. 'I'll go to Paris tomorrow. I'll look for a small drapers shop that we can rent. Therese and I can work in the shop. It will keep us busy. You can work, if you want to, Camille, or you can just enjoy yourself in Paris.'

'I'll get a job,' Camille said. He wanted to be a clerk in a big, important office. He wanted to talk to other young men.

Madame Raquin went to Paris the next day. A friend had told her about a drapers shop in the centre of the city. The shop was in a little arcade called the Passage du Pont-Neuf.

Paris was big and noisy. Madame Raquin was frightened by the busy streets, the big shops and the crowds of people. At last she found the Passage du Pont-Neuf.

The little arcade was narrow and dark. And the little drapers shop was dark too. But Madame Raquin felt safe there and the business was being sold very cheaply. The shop's rent was not expensive and the rooms above the shop could be rented cheaply too. Madame Raquin decided that her little family could live very comfortably in the Passage du Pont-Neuf.

By the time that Madame Raquin got back to Vernon, she was feeling very cheerful and excited. She was happy to have her own business again and every night she talked about her plans.

'Oh, my dear Therese, we'll all be so happy living in that little arcade,' Madame Raquin said. 'It's a quiet place, but it's in the centre of Paris. There are three fine rooms and a kitchen above the shop. The shop itself will keep us both busy! We'll arrange our goods in the very best ways. And our name will be painted on the front of the shop in red letters: Raquin - Drapers.

'The arcade is always full of people,' Madame Raquin went on. 'We'll have lots of customers all day. We'll never be bored!'

As Madame Raquin talked to her niece, she forgot that the shop was small and dark. As usual, Therese said nothing.

She waited to see the place herself.

Not long after this conversation, the Raquins left their peaceful home in Vernon and went to live in Paris.

The Passage du Pont-Neuf was a dark, narrow arcade between two high black walls. The arcade was about two metres wide and thirty metres long. It was paved with damp, cracked stones and its glass roof was black with dirt. During the day, very little light came through the roof of the arcade. In the evening, the narrow passage was lit by three square lanterns. The lanterns gave a strange yellow light. When the wind blew, the lanterns made shadows that moved along the walls.

Narrow shops were built along the left wall of the arcade. These little shops were dark and damp. The shop windows were made of squares of dirty green glass. It was almost impossible to see the goods - cheap clothes, old books, toys and paper - that were inside the shops. On the right wall of the arcade there were narrow cupboards. Many kinds of different goods lay on the dirty brown shelves of these cupboards.

No one walked slowly through the Passage du Pont-Neuf. No one went there to enjoy shopping. Servants and tradespeople hurried through the passage. They always wanted to get somewhere else quickly. Their shoes made a loud noise on the stone paving.

When Therese went into the drapers shop for the first time, she felt sick and ill. The dark, damp place felt like an open grave. The girl stood and looked at everything in the narrow little shop. There was a counter on one side and a spiral staircase on the other. All round the walls, there were green boxes, and cupboards with glass doors.

Therese went slowly up the spiral staircase to the rooms above the shop. There was a sitting-room, two bedrooms and a very small kitchen. In the sitting-room, there was a stove and a table, with four chairs standing round it. Everything was old and dirty.

Therese walked into each room and then sat down in despair. Her body was stiff with shock and horror. She felt cold and dead inside. She wanted to cry, but she could not. This awful place - this narrow shop and these few small rooms - was her new home. She was going to live here for the rest of her life!

Madame Raquin knew that she had made a mistake. She knew that she should not have rented the shop. But she tried to speak cheerfully to Camille and Therese.

'The arcade looks dark because the sun isn't shining today,' she said. 'And the shop's dirty now, but we can soon clean it. Choose some new wallpaper for the rooms upstairs, Therese. We can get new curtains and carpets too. We'll put flowers in every room, my dear!'

'Why should we do that?' Therese said sadly. 'We'll be comfortable as we are. We don't have to change anything.'

'The place is all right,' Camille said to his mother. 'We'll only be upstairs in the evenings. I'll be at my office all day. You and Therese will be busy in the shop all day. You won't be bored.'

Camille looked forward to leaving the Passage du Pont- Neuf every morning. He was going to work in a warm and comfortable office every day. Every evening, he would come home, eat his dinner and go to bed early.

Madame Raquin arranged all the furniture in the rooms above the shop. Then she cleaned the shop. It was a month before Camille got a job. But while he was looking for work, he stayed away from the shop all day. He did not return home until the evening. At last he found a job as a clerk with the Orleans Railway Company. He was going to earn one hundred francs a month. The young man was delighted.

Camille left home at eight o'clock every morning. He enjoyed the long walk to his office, along the banks of the River Seine. He enjoyed his time away from the shop, his mother and Therese. Everything in Paris pleased the stupid young man. In the evenings, he walked very slowly back to the Passage du Pont-Neuf.

Madame Raquin and Therese sat behind the counter of the dark little shop, day after day. Madame Raquin often fell asleep and the tabby cat, Francois, slept on the counter beside her. Therese sat quietly, without moving. Her pale face became paler and paler. She never complained.

Cheap clothes, women's hats and stockings were for sale in the little drapers shop. There were piles of green wool. There were knitting-needles, boxes of buttons and cheap ribbons. Madame Raquin tried to arrange all of the goods in an interesting way, but business was bad. There were not many customers and the shop did not make much money.

Therese smiled sadly when she served the poor girls who were their customers. Madame Raquin talked to everyone cheerfully. The customers always wanted Madame Raquin to serve them.

Days passed and every day was the same. And for Therese Raquin, every morning was the start of another boring day in the Passage du Pont-Neuf. The cheap goods in the shop became damp and dirty. Therese saw the dark, sad days going on and on to the end of her life. Every evening, she sat silently upstairs in the sitting-room. At ten o'clock, Madame Raquin went downstairs to lock the door of the shop. Then she came up the stairs again, she kissed her son and his wife, and went happily into her bedroom. Francois, the cat, went to sit on his chair in the kitchen. Then the family went to bed.

Therese followed Camille into their bedroom. Every evening, she walked across the room and opened the window.

She stood there for a minute, looking out at the high, black wall. Then she closed the shutters and turned towards her husband and their cold bed.

One day in the week was different from the others. Every Thursday evening, the Raquins had visitors. Thursday evening was the most important time of the week. The Raquins and their visitors played dominoes, talked and drank tea. The visitors left late in the evening and the Raquins did not go to bed until eleven o'clock.

Their visitors were always the same people. The first was Old Michaud. He had known Madame Raquin in Vernon and he had been the Police Commissioner there. He was now retired and living in Paris. One wet day, soon after they had moved to Paris, Michaud had met Madame Raquin outside her shop. He was soon visiting the Raquin family every Thursday.

After a few weeks, Michaud brought his son Olivier, who worked in the police department, to the drapers shop. Olivier was a tall, thin young man, about thirty years old. Suzanne, Olivier's pale little wife, came with him.

Grivet was a friend of Camille. He worked for the Orleans Railway Company with Camille. Grivet was an important man in the railway's office and Camille respected him. Camille hoped that, one day, he would get Grivet's job.

Every Thursday evening was the same. At seven o'clock, Madame Raquin went into the sitting-room and lit the fire in the stove. Then she put a big lamp in the middle of the table. Beside the lamp, Camille put the box of dominoes. Chairs were moved from along the walls and put round the table. Then Madame Raquin prepared the cups and saucers for tea.

At eight o'clock exactly, Old Michaud and Grivet met outside the little shop and went inside. Then everyone went up the spiral staircase to the sitting-room, sat down round the table, and waited for Olivier Michaud and his wife. They always arrived late.

When all the guests were in the sitting-room, Madame Raquin gave everyone some tea. Then Camille took the dominoes out of the box, put them on the table, and the game began.

The only sound came from the dominoes as they were moved about on the table. At the end of every game, the players talked about it for a few minutes. Then there was silence as the next game began.

Thursday evenings were terrible for Therese. She hated their visitors and she hated playing dominoes. Therese was so unhappy that she played the game badly. This made Camille angry with her.

Therese would often pick up Francois, the big tabby cat, and hold him in her arms. Sometimes Therese said that she had a headach and could not play. Then she would sit, half-asleep, with her elbow on the table and her hand against her face.

Therese stared at the people round the table and their ugly faces made her half-mad. She could see them clearly in the yellow light of the lamp. Old Michaud's face was pale, with red blotches on it. He was a very old man, and in the light of the lamp, he looked half-dead. Grivet's stupid face was narrow and he had round eyes and thin lips. Olivier had a small head on his long, stiff body. Suzanne's face, with its small eyes and pale lips, was soft and white.

'None of these people seem alive,' thought Therese. 'They are like ghosts.'

Therese found it difficult to breathe in the quiet room and this terrified her. She sometimes had a feeling that they were all buried together, deep under the ground.

There was a little bell on the door of the shop. It rang every time that a customer entered. Every Thursday evening, Therese hoped that a customer would come into the shop. She listened for the sound of the shop-bell. When she heard it, she would run downstairs and stay in the shop for as long as possible. The damp air of the shop cooled the heat of her face and hands. She would sit down behind the counter in her usual place, and forget everything.

Camille was angry when his wife left the sitting-room. After a time, he would go to the top of the stairs and shout down to Therese.

'What are you doing down there?' he would say. 'The customer went a long time ago. Come up at once! Grivet has just won another game and we need you up here!'

Then Therese would get up slowly and return to her place at the table in the sitting-room. She would pick up the tabby cat and hold him in her arms. At eleven o'clock, the four visitors would leave the Passage du Pont-Neuf. Then Madame Raquin would lock the door of the shop and walk slowly back up the stairs.

Chapter three

A New Visitor

One Thursday evening, Camille returned from his office with a tall young man who had a black beard and thick black hair.

As usual, Madame Raquin and Therese were sitting in the shop.

'Well, Mother,' Camille said. 'Do you recognize this fine young man? You used to give him bread and butter when we lived in Vernon!'

Madame Raquin looked at the man and shook her head.

'No, Camille. I don't know this gentleman,' she said.

Therese stared at the visitor too.

'Well, it's a long time since you saw him,' Camille said with a laugh. 'It was twenty years ago. This is little Laurent, the son of Old Laurent, the farmer. Laurent used to go to school with me in Vernon. He came to our house nearly every day!'

'I'm sorry that I didn't recognize you!' Madame Raquin said to the visitor and she smiled. 'I'm very pleased to see you, Laurent. Welcome to our home. I can't call you "little Laurent now. You are too tall! Sit down and tell me where you met Camille.'

'I work at the Orleans Railway Station, here in Paris,' Laurent replied with a smile. He sat down and looked around him happily.

'We both work for the same company - the Orleans Railway Company - but I didn't see Laurent until today,' said Camille. 'The office is very big and many people work there.

'Laurent's father sent him away to a school to study law,' Camille went on. 'But Laurent didn't want to be a lawyer. So then he studied art and painted pictures instead. Now he's got a job at the railway company. Laurent is doing very well there. He earns one thousand five hundred francs a month!'

Camille turned to Laurent. 'You must have dinner with us,' he said.

'I'd be delighted to dine with you,' Laurent replied.

Madame Raquin went upstairs to cook the dinner and Laurent sat in the shop with Camille and Therese.

Therese stared at Laurent without speaking. Camille's friend was tall and very powerful. His body looked firm and strong. He did not look like her weak, pale husband. Therese looked down at Laurent's big hands, then up to his short, broad neck. She looked at the young man's round, healthy face. She looked at his red smiling lips and his thick black hair. Laurent was the first real man that Therese had ever seen. Her body shook with excitement.

'You must remember Therese, my wife,' Camille said. 'She's my little cousin. She used to play with us in Vernon!'

'I recognized her immediately,' Laurent said, looking into Therese's eyes.

Therese felt that Laurent could see into her heart. She smiled, stood up quickly and went upstairs to help her aunt.

At dinner, Camille asked his friend about his life in Paris.

'Well, at the beginning, I told my father that I wanted to study law,' Laurent said with a smile. 'He paid me an allowance of one hundred francs a month. But I soon stopped studying law and I began to paint instead. I had met a friend who was an artist. I had been to school with this artist, who now had a studio in Paris. I was much happier when I was painting. But then my father found out that I wasn't studying law. He refused to give me any more money.'

Madame Raquin went into the kitchen to prepare tea. Camille and Therese stared at Laurent in surprise.

'So did you get work as an artist?' Camille asked.

Laurent laughed. 'No. I'm afraid that I didn't,' he said. 'But I enjoyed myself for a time. I stayed all day in my friend's studio. There were always lots of beautiful models there. My favourite model was a woman with long red hair and a fine body.'

Camille's eyes and mouth were now wide open. 'Did the model take some of her clothes off?' he asked.

'Yes, she did,' Laurent said. He looked at Therese as he spoke. Her face had become extremely pale.

'But my life as an artist wasn't successful,' Laurent went on. 'I couldn't earn enough money by painting. So I got a job in the railway office as a clerk. It's easy work and I make enough money to buy food. I'm glad that I'm not a farmer, like my father! I haven't seen the old man for years.'

Laurent was lazy and selfish. He liked to eat good food, do very little work and make love to women. Then he was completely happy. He tried not to smile as he looked at the surprised faces of Camille and Therese.

Therese's eyes were like two black holes in her pale face. Her mouth was open and she sat completely still. She was listening to every word that Laurent said.

'I've got an idea!' Laurent said to Camille suddenly. 'I'll paint your portrait. I'll come here for two hours every evening. The painting will be finished in a week.'

Camille was delighted. 'You can have dinner with us every evening, Laurent!' he said. 'I'll curl my hair and wear my best coat for the portrait.'

It was now eight o'clock and the Thursday visitors soon arrived to play dominoes. Camille introduced Laurent to Grivet and the Michauds and then they all sat down round the table. Laurent was careful. He behaved well. He laughed and told stories. He was soon everyone's friend.

The shop-bell rang once, but Therese did not leave her chair. She sat with the others, playing and talking, until eleven o'clock.

Therese did not look at Laurent again, but she felt uncomfortable and afraid. Laurent took no notice of her.

From that day, Laurent visited the Raquins every evening. The Raquins' sitting-room was warm and he always dined with them.

The young man was delighted. It was good luck that he had met Camille again. Laurent lived in a very small attic at the top of an old house. The room was cold and he had very little money for food. He usually spent the evenings sitting in a cheap cafe, smoking a cigar and drinking one glass of coffee with brandy.

Now Laurent had a new home and a comfortable place to sit every evening. He ate dinner with the Raquins and enjoyed their company until ten o'clock. Then he walked slowly home to his little attic.

One evening, Laurent brought his easel and paints to the Passage du Pont-Neuf. He prepared his canvas and started to work on his portrait of Camille. Laurent had decided to paint the picture in Camille and Therese's bedroom.

'Good strong light comes through the window there,' he said. 'The sitting-room is too dark.'

Laurent was a very bad artist. He could not draw well. It took him three days to draw Camille's head. Then, on the fourth day, Laurent began to put paint on the portrait. He put spots and short lines of paint all over the canvas. Laurent's painting was worse than his drawing. The paints that he put on the canvas soon all became a dirty green colour.

The Raquins had never seen an artist working before. They thought that Laurent was very clever. Camille was very pleased with the portrait and he did not know how bad it was.

Therese stayed close to Laurent all the time. Every evening, she went into the bedroom and watched the young man working. She sat very still and did not say a word. Laurent noticed all this and now he began to think about his future.

'Therese is a young woman who needs a lover,' Laurent said to himself on his way home one evening. 'Her husband doesn't please her. She's a passionate woman - she has very strong feelings. Her eyes show this. And she's bored in that shop. She likes me. One day, she'll find a lover. Perhaps that lover should be me. I'll kiss her and see what happens.'

Laurent walked on and then he thought again.

'Therese Raquin is not beautiful and I don't love her,' he said to himself. 'But she might be an interesting lover. However, I must be careful. The Passage du Pont-Neuf is an awful place to live. But I enjoy going there in the evenings. The sitting-room is warm and comfortable and Madame Raquin is a good cook. I don't want to lose all that. I must think carefully before I do anything.'

Finally, Laurent made a decision - he would try to seduce Therese.

'I'll wait until we're alone,' he said to himself, 'and then I'll kiss her. She won't tell her husband. But if Camille finds out, I can knock him down and leave!'

Several evenings passed, but Laurent could not kiss Therese. He was never alone with her.

At last the portrait was finished and Laurent and the Raquin family looked at it together. The picture was very bad, but the Raquins did not understand that. Laurent had made the painting of Camille's face look very strange. The face was covered in green and brown paint and the mouth was twisted. It looked like the face of a drowned man.

But stupid Camille was delighted. 'You've made me look very unusual,' the vain young man said to Laurent. 'Now I'm going to buy two bottles of champagne and we can all have a drink together!'

He ran downstairs and out of the shop. A few minutes later, the shop-bell rang and Madame Raquin went to serve a customer in the shop.

Therese stayed in the bedroom, looking at the portrait of Camille. Laurent was collecting his brushes and paints. Seconds passed. Suddenly, the young man turned round. Therese was standing very close behind him.

Date: 2015-12-18; view: 904