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that Jérôme had left her, she
had discovered that she was better off than she could ever have
imagined. It was true that she didn’t need to work at all. She had
used that fact to take on a large part of Jérôme’s work for the
charity, asking only for her social security payments to be met. It
felt appropriate to pick up the work that he had cared so much
about.
     
    “Come and sit
down. I’ve made tea. Is that all right?” Gaëlle said, as she showed
Gabi into her apartment a week later.
    “I drink far
too much coffee, so yes, tea is great.”
    They chatted
for half an hour, tentative conversation. Gaëlle attempted to
appear cheerful, and Gabi was apparently endeavouring to be careful
in her choice of subjects.
    “I can see you
looking around. Do you want to have the tour?” Gaëlle asked.
    “I’d love to,
but I didn’t dare to ask.”
    “This is my
bedroom,” Gaëlle said, opening the door.
    “Wow, a whole
wall of clothes cupboard!” Gabi exclaimed. “Fantastic! I’m
envious!”
    “I have far too
many clothes, I know, but I haven’t got round to sorting them out
yet,” Gaëlle told her, leading Gabi into the second bedroom.
    “Another
wardrobe, Gaëlle?” Gabi said, turning to her. “You can’t have
enough clothes to fill two! May I look?”
    Before Gaëlle
could react, Gabi had opened the doors wide.
    “Oh, it’s
just…” Gaëlle started to try to explain. This wardrobe was where
she had put away her sexy clothes. Some were decent, others were
things she had only ever worn for special erotic occasions. She
didn’t reach the end of her sentence, and wasn’t even sure of where
it was going to finish, because, from the rail, Gabi had picked out
and was admiring one of her minor erotic outing dresses, as
Jérôme had called them. It was dark green silk, quite short and
slightly transparent. Still, Gaëlle thought, Gabi might have chosen
something even more overtly provocative.
    “You never wore
dresses like this at work,” Gabi said, looking hard at Gaëlle.
    “Neither did
you!” Gaëlle retorted. “It isn’t a work dress.”
    “That’s the
least you can say! You must look very sexy in it.”
    “Yes,
well…shall we finish our tea?”
    Gabi’s visit
ended with an agreement that they would meet again, a week later.
It became a regular feature over the following months, and Gaëlle
felt better for the relief of light conversation and gossip.
     
    Gabi made
herself comfortable on the sofa facing Gaëlle. They had finished
their drinks, coffee this time, and were sitting in companionable
silence. The sounds of the city drifted in through the open
window.
    “You know I
said that we all looked up to you, Gaëlle?” Gabi began. “Well,
there’s an extra reason for that in my case.”
    “Oh yes?”
    “Well… you
remember I mentioned about how we chatted when I was just a
beginner?”
    “Yes, I
do.”
    “Look, to say
what I’m going to tell you, I need to go back a bit. You know how
people often play tricks on new staff? My dad was a mechanic, and
they used to send apprentices to get a left-handed screwdriver and
so on.”
    Gaëlle smiled.
“Like striped paint for trainee decorators?”
    “Yes, that sort
of thing. Well, it was the tradition when I started in my current
job, four years ago, to load the new arrival’s desk with mail, as
if that were the usual quantity. Most of it was junk, treatments
for baldness and impotence, stuff like that. Porn magazines, too,
of course, and sex catalogues, but with the real stuff hidden in
among it. You had to sort it so you didn’t throw out some
minister’s next speech! I’d been warned, so I went through it
before I slung most of it straight in the bin, but in that process,
on the front of one of the catalogues on my desk there was a photo
of something that caught my eye. Can you guess what?”
    She paused and
looked across at Gaëlle. There was no response.
    “It was the
remote control for a wireless vibrating egg,” Gabi announced.