Adelle had told Mlle. Isidore that she wouldn't be at the theatre in the
upcoming week. In order to keep that statement truthful she was there to
finish up a few odds and ends. The company was in the middle of rehearsals
for their latest production and the costumes were near finished which meant
that Adelle could afford to take a week off.
Two hours later she put away the blue thread she'd been using and stuffed it
inside her bag. Adelle hadn't moved from her spot since she arrived and the
lower level in the theatre was getting stuffy. The air was oppressing,
coming at her from all sides. Throwing her belongings together Adelle rushed
up the stairs, a headache already forming. With a hand to her head she
began long strides across the square. Adelle had no other thought on her
mind then getting home, perhaps laying down, and making a good cup of
tea-not running smack into a painter. Which is exactly what she did. "Oh
mon Dieu! I am so sorry monsieur, I didn't see you....." her voiced trailed
off as she looked around to see damage she had done. Fortunately she had
done little, save embarrassing herself completely and upset an artist at
work. The man had been cleaning a brush. " Thank God he hadn't been in the
middle of a brushstroke or else I'd have ruined his painting entirely," she
thought. " I am so sorry to have interrupted you." As he turned Adelle was
stunned by his eyes. She had never seen that shade of blue before-except on
a spool. She suddenly felt very self-conscious. " I didn't mean to bump
into you like that. I would have felt awful if I had ruined your painting."
It was quite important these days for him to be careful with his brushes and
paints. Artistic endeavors, in general, were not thought of as very useful
to the Republic, and it was beginning to get difficult to get good supplies.
Which is why he was so intent on cleaning the last flecks of paint from his
brush that he was taken utterly by surprise by the girl who ran into him.
He turned, eyes wide in surprise, though the expression quickly turned into
a charming smile. Manners being in short supply these days, her effusive
apology was quite a pleasant change of pace. "It's all right, citoyenne. No
harm was done, I'm just a little wet."
It was true, he'd spilt some of the water he'd been using to clean the brush
onto his pants. He wasn't worried -- they were black, and wouldn't show the
paint that had colored the water. But then he'd never been that careful
about keeping his clothes spotless. The cuffs of his white shirt were grey
from a combination of lead and ink, and that there were flecks of paint on
his faded red vest.
"Are you all right?" He noted that she was carrying quite a bundle of
things. "You didn't drop anything, did you?"
"Drop anything?" Adelle asked puzzled. " Oh! No, I don't think so." Slightly
frustrated at herself she added " One would think that, as a seamstress
whose job is to pay attention to detail, I wouldn't be so clumsy!" Adelle
tried to compose herself as the blush of embarrassment faded from her
cheeks. It was then she noticed the man's overturned water jar, dropped
brushes and water stained pantleg and the redness began to creep back to her
face. She couldn't imagine how she managed to create and get herself into
messes like this as often as she did. Silently vowing to watch where she
was going from now on, Adelle tried to think of a way to repay the artist.
He knelt and gathered the scattered brushes with a few quick movements of
his hand, the smile still faintly on his lips. "We're all preoccupied from
time to time. I think I stepped back into two people today who I hadn't
noticed were standing there, looking over my shoulder." Rising, he slid the
brushes into a leather bag.
As the ache in her head began to dull an idea struck. "Well you ought to at
least know who to blame for this mess" she began with a wry smile. "I'm
Adelle DeBlois. The slight buzz in my head is telling me that it's time for
tea-would you care to join me? I live just around the way and it's the least
I can do after causing you to become your own artwork for a moment," nodding
toward the small paint flecks on his trousers. Then Adelle slowly realized
what she had just done. She had just invited a stranger, a male stranger,
back to her apartment where they would be completely unchaperoned. True,
that might not have been the most intelligent thing to do but she owed him a
cup of tea at least didn't she? This had been her fault. " If he accepts
Mme. Miroux (the landlady) will have a field day with this and I shall never
hear the end of it " Adelle surmised as she waited for the young man's
decision.
The invitation did surprise him, and he saw the hint of realization on
Adelle's face as some of the implications dawned on her. Matthieu had always
thought some of the social constrictions on conversations were plain silly,
but even now in the midst of revolution they were still quite adhered to.
But Matthieu had also always been inordanently fond of talking to anyone --
a habit that had endeared him to even the most dangerous and low elements of
society. So he decided to find some compromise.
"Matthieu Bonacieux," he said, in introduction. "And I'd be delighted."
Then he paused and gestured to the things he had with him -- easel, canvas,
the bag of brushes and a small box. "But I do have a lot with me... There's
a good cafe, right across the square there." He gestured to a small
establishment that had put a few tables and chairs outside to take advantage
of the rare good weather. "Perhaps it might be easier, both of us encumbered
so."
A cafe? Although the suggestion was considerably safer than him being in her
apartment, at least at home the tea would be free. Instinctively she
reached into her handbag for the jangle of francs she hoped was there. Her
fingers grazed the hard metal and a small sigh of relief escaped her lips.
She could indeed afford to pay for two drinks-no more embarrassment for
today. "Yes, the cafe would be a better idea." Adelle assented. She
watched as Matthieu deftly lifted and shouldered the easel. Adelle bent to
retrieve the water jug and hand him the painting, looking at it for the
first time. "Monsieur Bonacieux...c'est magnifique." she breathed. With a
few strokes of his paintbrush he had captured Paris entirely. True, it was
only a few older buildings and people but the mood was there. The familiar
color and flair was there with the now ever present grey that seemed to hang
over the city since the start of the Revolution. You couldn't see faces in
the painting but the people's clothes spoke of it, the bodies echoed what
everyone had come to know-Paris had changed.
It was no longer the gay, carefree place it had once been known to be. It
was a great bird whose wings had been clipped with the addition of the
guillotine in the Place de la Greve, mocking it's former atmosphere. Yes,
the city had changed and the change was reflected even in the artwork. "
You have much talent monsieur" Adelle said firmly, her voice full of
respect. A voice that clearly stated there would be no arguing. "Je suis
desolee-I should have addressed you as citoyen...I have such trouble
remembering that. Old habits die hard you understand. Besides, I'm not sure
I can allow myself to address you as an equal after viewing this!" Adelle
added teasingly gesturing toward the painting, a hint of laughter in her
voice. With great care she handed over his work, picked up the water jug,
and the two began walking toward the cafe.
He noted her instinctive move to her handbag and gave the slightest of nods.
He'd been intending to pay, as it was his suggestion, but he'd take care of
that later.
He had been about to thank her for helping him gather his things when she
began praising his work so effusively. "Mais non," he began as they walked,
with the modesty that had always been natural to him. He was quite pleased
that she liked it so much; after all, he had begun it only on a whim.
But her next words alarmed him slightly. "No no, citoyenne, you shouldn't
say such things. I'm certain you could create such beauty with needle and
thread, while all I would succeed at is making my fingers a bloody mess."
They reached the cafe and he set down his things, quite careful with the
painting that would be easy ruin for some hours to come. Even before they
had sat down the harried looking proprietor came to ask them what they
wanted.
"Coffee for me, tea for her," he said, after glancing at Adelle to make
certain it was what she wanted. And before she could protest, he slipped a
few sous out of a pocket to pay the man.
"Monsieur Bon-" she began to protest but he held up his hand to stop her.
"It was my suggestion," he said with one of his charming smiles. "So, tell
me about yourself. Have you always lived in Paris?"
Adelle could not suppress a laugh as she imagined him in a tangle of fabric
and thread.
Relieved that money would not be a concern, she gratefully dropped her
argument and continued on with conversation. " Well I'm sorry to disappoint
you but there isn't that much to tell! It seems like I've lived in Paris
forever. My family lived in Nante for a few years but I was too young to
remember. My mother grew ill so we moved here because my father heard the
doctors were more skilled. After my mother died my father didn't pay too
much attention to what my sister and I did which is how I was able to work
on my own. C'est tout de mon histoire." She answered with a smile. Having
come across this question many times from curious employers, the answer had
become short and succinct. Although it was very personal Adelle had become
detached from the information and could recite it as easily and
matter-of-factly as telling the time of day. "I don't think I've seen you
painting in the square before-is it just a hobby or an occupation for you?"
"My condolences about your mother," he said softly when she mentioned that
part of her history.
"Oh, it's what I do," he replied easily. "I've been drawing since I was a
child, and began painting as soon as my parents could afford to apprentice
me. I've been on my own for a while now, though."
He gestured to the drying painting. "This is for myself, really. There's not
much money in painting nowadays. But illustrations and engravings for the
newspapers and pamphleteers more than pays the bills."
The shopkeep returned and set their drinks down in front of them.
"Thank you." Adelle replied. Touched that he would think to offer sympathy
but more surprised than anything else. " Although...I was quite young when
she died and do not hold many memories of her so there isn't much to
grieve."
"Did you ever sketch for the Leroux pamphlets? Or L'Ami du Peuple? Both very
interesting bits of literature. Both very different bits of literature as
well! But I must admit I found truthful points in each. " Adelle decided it
would be best to go no further and just let Matthieu answer her question.
Luckily she HAD read both, out of sheer curiosity. To leave it at just the
Leroux pamphlets might have been dangerous. Kind though this man had been
she had only known him for no less than five minutes and did not know where
his allegiance stood. Or how it would affect her. She loved France dearly
and was proud of her heritage, but she could not force herself to support
what was going on now. Adelle hated the fact that now everyone had to watch
what they said, where they went, be careful of everything. All the sudden
normal day to day errands were rarely "normal" anymore. One did better to
keep silent and not step on toes. Unfortunately for Adelle, keeping silent
had never been something she was good at.
"Leroux? Oh, non, not that," he said, shaking his head. Matthieu didn't seem
particularly fond of those pamphlets. "And unfortunately, citizen Marat does
not use illustrations, much as I wish he'd change his mind. To him, L'Ami du
Peuple must be a pure reflection of his beliefs presented by no one but him,
or the message will be diluted."
The way he said it could make one wonder if he was perhaps quoting the
famous journalist.
Adelle nodded in understanding. That sounded like something Marat would
say. For all his talk of being for the people, she found it interesting that
he did not like to include them.
"I work with Desmoulins quite often, sometimes with Hebert," he continued,
naming some of the more radical members of the convention. "And lately, the
Convention itself. They're very dedicated to keeping records of everything,
which of late has included not just accounts of events but depictions of
them as well."
He picked up the cup of coffee and took a sip. It was quite easy, at that
moment, to see the faint white scars that criss-crossed the backs of his
hands.
"So, do you work for yourself or for someone else?"
It was at that moment Adelle decided it would be wise to think through her
words before she said them. She was enjoying Matthieu's company but she was
also fearful and slightly wary of the Convention. Who, she doubted, wanted
anything other than it's ideals depicted anywhere. Her companion hadn't
seemed to care for the Leroux pamphlets. Adelle didn't agree outright with
any of the ones circulating but she would lean toward Leroux anyday over the
headhunting Marat Matthieu wished he could draw for. Although what had she
to worry about? He was an artist, this was how he made his living. *I
suppose he cannot pick and choose who he works for that often,* Adelle
justified, trying to convince herself that Matthieu couldn't be part of the
radicals that distressed her so much.
Adelle had not meant to stare. But she just could not help her eyes
lingering on the distracting scars across his hands. She flinched slightly
in spite of herself knowing that such marks couldn't have come without a
good deal of pain. She could not so much think back to her childhood, when
she gashed her knee against a rock while chasing after her sister, without
shuddering. Her gaze softened and she silently pitied the skilled hands
opposite her. Adelle looked back at the tea cup hoping Matthieu had not
noticed her unintended rudeness.
"A little of both actually. I work for the theatre as the costume mistress.
When things are going slowly there I lend myself out as a seamstress for
whoever wishes to hire me. I'm very lucky that the theatre allows me to do
that. I am able to step in and out of time periods costuming magnificent
productions and still get the chance to create modern pieces and visit with
the women of fashion. I enjoy it immensely." Adelle replied smiling. She
would always be in awe of the wonderful opportunities that seemed to come
her way.
If he realized any of her misgivings of his politics he gave no sign of it.
He did note her eyes lingering briefly on his hands, but didn't seem to
mind. Two years ago, yes, he would have abruptly hidden them, perhaps
putting them beneath the table. Now they were a badge of strength, of pride,
of honor.
A smile crossed his lips. "The theater? Oh, that must be fun. I love the
theater. That means you must be rather good, then," he added with a playful
wink. "Which one do you work for?"
"Which theatre? Why the only one worth attending" Adelle responded,
grinning. "La Comedie, bien sur."
"Ah, La Comedie." He found himself grinning as well. "You must have one of
the most enviable jobs in all of Paris, Citoyen Adelle. You get to watch all
of the productions, then?"
"Yes, when I choose. But normally I have seen the productions so many times
over in rehearsals, checking to make sure that everyone can move as needed
in their costumes and done so much research that I have already grown tired
of the show by opening night! I can make provisions for favorites though.
The upcoming production is Twelfth Night. I expect to watch it from the
audience-I adore Shakespeare! Although one of our leading actresses went
and got herself married so I'm afraid it might lack a little of the fire and
flair she brought, but it shall be good none the less. Do you go La Comedie
often?"
Not as often as I'd like, I'm afraid. I rarely have the money for it. It's
become very expensive to buy paint, canvasses, everything else. I
understand... what with the growing tensions with England, the war with
Austria... well, the supplies I need are not exactly a national priority.
And since internal manufacture has turned to war, those merchants who import
such things feel justified in charging monstrously."
He shrugged. Obviously he could do nothing to change the situation, so he
did not let it worry him too much.
"I often confuse Shakespeare's comedies...what is 12th Night about?"
"I know exactly what you mean," Adelle said with a sigh. " That is the very
reason I go to England. Every so often I end up there stocking up on
supplies. La Comedie can handle not using authentic satin or velvet to make
the characters appear wealthy but not many of the aristocrats left in France
can!"
"Oh it's a fantastic comedy!" Enthusiastically, Adelle began its
explanation. " A pair of unidentical twins, Sebastien and Viola, are
traveling on a ship when a massive storm appears causing their ship to go
down." Noticing the skeptical look on Matthieu's face she grinned. She could
tell he wasn't believing her about the play being a comedy so far. "The two
end up being separated in the storm but are washed up on the same island,
each thinking the other is dead. In order to be safe in the city, Viola
passes herself off as a man and ends up working for the Duke. The Duke just
happens to be madly in love with a Lady Olivea who would have nothing to do
with the poor Duke at all. Olivea and her brother were terribly close so
when he died she swore to wear black and mourn him for seven years. Thinking
himself clever the Duke sends Viola (whose alias as a man is Caesario) to
woo Olivea in his name. As luck would have it-Olivea falls in love with
Caesario-who is really a woman! There is more to the story involving how
people continue to mistake Viola's brother Sebastien for his twin and other
plots intertwined. Oh it's a riot!" Flushed, Adelle concluded her animated
description hoping it had made some sense. Working at the theatre suited
her well for she always got into the story as much as the actors. Imagining
how marvelous this show would be, she was struck with an idea.
"Monsieur Bonacieux....I always have seats reserved in my name in case I
care to use them. And since you so kindly, and slyly, decided to pay for
the both of us a few moments ago you still haven't given me the opportunity
to make up for my behavior. So if you'd like... I can give you two seats to
the next performance."
He blinked in surprise at the offer, and for a moment wasn't quite certain
what to say. He wanted them, there was no doubt about that in his mind, but
certainly it was too rich a gift, wasn't it? "Theater tickets because you
spilled some water on me? Certainly that's far too much recompense for such
a small accident, isn't it?" There was a hint of wistfulness in his voice...
and though he seemed to be turning down the offer, she could probably tell
that it wouldn't be too difficult to convince him.
"Not if you want them," Adelle said with a sparkle in her eye, for she could
tell he wanted to say yes but his manners wouldn't let him accept such a
gift. It surprised her-these seats were free. The believability of the show
declined unless she gave her skill to add to it, therefore she was rewarded
not only in money but being able to see her work...well...work. It was not
as though she had slaved away to afford the tickets, but apparently Matthieu
wasn't seeing it the same way. "Monsieur it would give me great pleasure to
know you enjoyed yourself at the theatre watching one of my favorite plays.
Come now, these seats are given to me a few times each new performance-it
would be shame to let them go to waste."
Now he understood. She had several, given to her by the theater as
recompense. It wouldn't actually cost her anything; they might even go to
waste...
"Then I'll accept, citoyenne," he said with a truly grateful smile. "Though
I must say the reward far outstrips any offence."
"Wonderful" Adelle said, happy she found a sufficient gift and one that he
seemed to enjoy so. " As far as it out-weighing the offense, well...let's
call it insurance against the next time I come rushing out without looking.
Will you be outside painting again tomorrow so I can give you a voucher for
them? And how many seats do you wish?" Adelle was getting excited-it was
like Christmas! Making others happy always animated her and it pleased her
immensely that Matthieu was so appreciative.
He laughed softly. "Yes, I'll likely be here tomorrow, unless something
comes up."
He looked surprised again, not having expected a choice. "Oh. Um..." It was
something of a conundrum. The only people he'd think to take would be his
parents, who only rarely had an opportunity to take time away from work. But
three tickets, certainly that would seem greedy? Like he was taking
advantage of her generosity?
Then again, she had them, and they were free...
"Three?" he asked, hesitantly. "My parents, you see... they never have the
chance to do such things..."
"I'll bring you the tickets around noon." Adelle said, very businesslike.
Sounding unusually adult for her 19 years. "And how many seats do you wish?"
She considered asking him how dare he have the gall to ask for so many, as a
bit of a joke but decided against it. They had just met after all and he
might not appreciate the humor in it. She didn't want to make him anymore
uneasy about taking the tickets. Adelle smiled inwardly at the jest.
"Never had the chance to attend a play? Well! We need to fix that then!
Three would be fine. You needn't act so apologetic about taking them
Monsiuer-I offered therefore you are allowed to accept!" Picking up her tea
cup, letting the warm bitter liquid flow down her throat, she realized it
was getting let.
She had promised this Isidore woman that she would be available. She
couldn't be available if she wasn't home! "Oh I wasn't even paying attention
to how long we had been here! I am expecting to hear from a client." Adelle
informed her companion as she stood. "I've enjoyed our chat this afternoon!"
Taking his hand she thanked him for the tea and agreed to meet him tomorrow
outside the theatre to hand over the tickets.