She no longer knew where she was going in this world or what to hope for from love. Would it provide self-abnegation or would it make her feel more completely herself? In a world full of hazards, a world where no one had the strength to hope any more, she was certain of only one thing, and that was that two men were waiting for her up there, one man in heaven and the other close to the clouds, or perhaps it was the other way round. And whilst a widow had to forbid herself to go up there, a free woman could ask herself the question. Had it not been for the calls of the wild cats, she would perhaps have succeeded in blocking out thoughts of the man, but every evening when the noise started up, and despite her fear, she could not help feeling they were tender calls, rather than warnings.

August 2017

August 2017

Lise had been disconcerted by the package of ham on the table since they started eating, especially as Franck had unwrapped it next to his plate. She felt disgusted just looking at the mass of white-trimmed red meat. Franck kept telling her that it was in honour of the dog, a gesture of gratitude to their constant companion and nothing more. The animal came every day and was turning into a guest in his own right, quietly becoming a part of their holiday and a kind of friend. Showing him some attention and giving him something to eat was really the least they could do.

‘Franck, dogs don’t eat at the table. At least, we shouldn’t get him into the habit of it.’

‘It makes me happy, Lise. Making him happy makes me happy. And the poor thing really has to eat; he’s always there watching us when we’re eating. It’s annoying …’

‘For you?’

‘No, for him.’

‘Don’t worry, dogs like that can find everything they need by themselves. You told me the valley’s full of deer and wild boar at night. I think he’ll be all right.’

‘D’you really think he could kill a wild boar or a deer just like that, all by himself?’

‘Franck, have you seen his jaws? Have you seen his mouth, his paws – the size of those paws? Sometimes he scares me. Sometimes, I really can’t tell if he’s growling or if he’s happy. In fact, I think we should report him.’

‘Report him? Who to? Anyway, he doesn’t have a collar.’

‘Exactly, that’s what’s weird.’

‘Come on, Lise, if you think it’s normal that there are wild boar, deer, rabbits and all sorts of creatures roaming in the wild, why are you surprised that there’s a dog too? Why shouldn’t a dog be wild as well? Wild dogs must surely exist; in Russia there are hundreds of thousands of them. And, anyway, maybe he’s not a dog.’