“Are you still mad at me?” I asked, though it was a strange moment to choose.

She blushed scarlet, but I couldn’t tell if it was out of anger or love. Or both.

“Yes, I’m mad at you. But at the same time I know I’ll never love anyone like you. Though if I could see clearly, I’d give you a good slap and that would make me feel a whole lot better.”

“Hang on, I’ll get a bit closer.”

I didn’t want her to miss me like last time. I stood right in front of her.

“Go ahead.”

Of course, as soon as her slap struck home, everyone at the windows burst into applause, whistling and cheering, with the furious teachers in the background trying to calm things down. The policeman, who was still stationed towards the back of the playground, must have wondered what on earth he’d got into. I was seeing stars in every colour of the rainbow and my ears were buzzing as if they were full of hornets. She hadn’t held back. I’d never known that being hurt so bad could feel so good.

Peace had returned after the great storm.

“OK, now follow me. Can you hear my footsteps?”

“I’m following you.”

“Are you holding the thread tight?”

“Yes. And I’m not going to let it go again.”

And that’s how we crossed the playground, watched by all the kids who were now leaning out of the windows, a weird mixture of disappointment, mockery and admiration on their faces. I don’t know what more entertainment they were expecting. The bell rang for break. We were definitely going to be in hot water with the school authorities. I thought of Lucky Luke.

“Quickly,” I said to Marie, “give me the name of a really well-known book that I can get out of the school library.”

“Why? You want to go and read during break? Can’t we spend a bit of time together?”

“No, I’ll explain later. It’s very important – otherwise we’re going to have a problem. We’ll be singled out, separated and slung into exile.”

“Exile? What exile?”

“Oh, never mind, it’s a theory of Dad’s about love and stuff… So, come on, the book? For someone who’s come to literature late and wants to catch up. Just stop trying to understand for once!”

“All right… I’ll trust you. Let’s see… What’s he interested in?”

“Cycling mostly.”

“In that case there’s a book by Antoine Blondin about the Tour de France. If he likes cycling, nothing could be better.”