First my husband, then my parents died. After that I lost my two sisters. When death comes to someone’s home it’s as if it wants to get as much done as quickly as possible to save coming again for a long time. It often leaves only one or two to mourn the others. I never remarried. My son was now doing law and I hoped I could live and die not far from him. I moved near him so we could live closer to each other. But of course by then he was a young man, he’d got his own life and he let me know I was in the way. So I left. Maybe that was a mistake, but I hated to feel surplus to requirements. I went back home.

I hardly ever saw him again. Hardly ever. Then he was to get married. Wonderful! Now we would all be together forever. I would have grandchildren! But he had married an English girl who took an instant dislike to me. Maybe she sensed that I loved him too much. So again I found myself alone. Yes … that’s how it was, Monsieur. Then he left for England. He was going to live with them, his wife’s parents. Can you understand what that meant? It meant that they’ve robbed me of him! He’s theirs now! He writes to me once a month. There was a time when, instead of that, he used to come and see me. Not any more. Never.

It’s now four years since I saw him. He had white hair. Wrinkles. How did that happen? How could this man verging on old age be my son, my little pink and white babe? It’s quite likely that’s the last I shall ever see of him. So I just keep on travelling all year round. I travel here, there and everywhere as you see, with no one for company. I am, as I say, completely bereft. Goodbye, Monsieur. Don’t stay, I beg of you. I feel badly enough already for having unburdened myself of all this to you.’

And as I walked back down the hill again, turning round once I caught sight of the old woman standing tall on top of one of the ravaged battlements and contemplating the mountains, the long valley and Lake Chambon5 in the distance. The lower part of her skirt together with the strange little shawl she wore around her shoulders were fluttering in the wind like flags.

THE CHRISTENING