As for me, I sometimes felt like a spectator at an event that had little to do with me, although it had actually been one of the most decisive days of my life. But I was so worn out from a variety of emotions, of exhausting efforts, of ­contradictory feelings, that I simply withdrew into myself and looked rather coolly at what was taking place in my own house, events that concerned some individuals I’d known for only a very short time. On the one hand my existence was at stake and I had an important choice to make, but on the other hand, it was hard to believe it was all really ­happening. To really take it in, I had to focus on Mathieu, on my great love for him. And then a certain sense of ­reality was restored, I felt a lump of emotion in my throat and I told myself yes, because of Mathieu I can accept it all, I must—the child, the mother-in-law, the ex-wife, the ex-wife’s new boyfriend . . . But the confirmed bachelor in me was rebelling too, and it was time to kick over the traces.

One notion of freedom was disappearing from my life that evening, and I was aware of the sense of vertigo brought on by important choices.

Sébastien fell asleep all at once; he collapsed in his ­mother’s arms after one last tickle, and that brought the evening to an end. Everyone seemed relieved to have found a reason to separate. Gaston offered Rose a lift and they left fairly quickly amid a rustle of winter coats, of new boots, of pecks on the cheek and awkward handshakes.

Immediately after they left Mathieu and I went to bed (it was only half-past ten) and after making love with newfound—or renewed—vigour, we talked. Till the small hours. He described his impressions, I told him mine, but in a much lighter tone than I would have expected. There wasn’t a minute’s heaviness and I was very relieved. Still, I concealed my existential anguish from him because I didn’t want him to panic for nothing. And I’m pretty sure I fell asleep when he was in mid-sentence because I dreamed of a winged Santa Claus who went from house to house ­gathering loot, taking what was best from each of them instead of leaving presents under the chimney.

“You’re snoring so loud Mélène just banged the floor!”

“Really?”

“Hardly. It’s the witches downstairs, they just pounded the ceiling with their broomsticks.”

“Really?”

“Jean-Marc, go back where you were . . . You left your brain behind . . . “

Louise and Gaston

Louise and Gaston

“I know you think my friends are totally square . . .”

“I never said that . . .”

“Maybe not, but I know what you’re thinking!”