“Our future member of Parliament? I had a quick cigarette with him behind the gym where we’re supposed to be having our big class party. He didn’t seem too interested in pressing the flesh. Fucking hell, have you seen the state of Aude Paradis? Poor thing looks like shit! See if you can find some popcorn, Thomas. I could sit here for hours!”

But her enthusiasm waned the moment she saw a couple of staff members setting up a microphone on a small platform.

“Sorry, I’m going to skip the official speeches,” she announced, getting to her feet.

On the steps across from us, Stéphane Pianelli was taking notes as he talked to the mayor. When he saw me, he gave a wave that meant something like Don’t move—I’ll be right over.

Fanny dusted off her jeans and, in typical fashion, dropped a final zinger.

“You know what? I think you’re one of the few men at this party that I haven’t slept with.”

I wanted to say something witty, but nothing came to mind, because her words were not intended to be funny. They were sad and melodramatic.

“But back then, you were head over heels in love with Vinca,” she remembered.

“True,” I admitted. “I was in love with her. Like pretty much everyone else here, right?”

“Yeah, but you always idealized her.”

I sighed. After Vinca’s disappearance and the revelation about her affair with the teacher, she had quickly become a Laura Palmer–like character in a remake of Twin Peaks set on the Côte d’Azur.

“Fanny, don’t you start too.”

“Whatever you say. I’m sure it’s easier to keep your head in the sand.”

She slipped her camera into her bag, looked at her watch, and handed me the half-full glass of champagne.

“I’m running late and I really shouldn’t have drunk that. I’m on duty this afternoon. See you, Thomas.”

6.

The headmistress was giving her speech, the sort of vacuous homily that is a specialty among middle managers in France’s national education system. Madame Guirard hailed from Paris, and she had not been in this post for very long. What she knew about the school was strictly theoretical, so she confined her remarks to vague platitudes. As I listened to her, I wondered why my parents hadn’t come. As former deans of the faculty, they would certainly have been invited. I scanned the crowd, puzzled by their absence.

When the headmistress had finished her lecture about “the universal values of tolerance, equal opportunity, and dialogue between cultures that this institution has cherished since its inception,” she went on to talk about the “notable figures” who had attended the school. I was mentioned with a dozen or so others, and when she said my name, a few heads turned in my direction. I gave an embarrassed smile and made a vague gesture of thanks.