Fortunately, Papa appeared at that moment and I could see he was very cross that Monsieur Guigner had turned up at our door. ‘What are you doing here?’ he asked, not even pretending to be polite.
‘That’s no way to welcome an old friend now, is it, Guillaume?’ replied Monsieur Guigner. ‘Aren’t you going to ask me in?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ said Papa. ‘Josie and I are just on our way out for a coffee. Won’t you join us, though?’ I could tell he was trying hard to find a way to get Monsieur Guigner away from our house. And so the Vulture Man came with us to the café, which completely spoiled our outing. He ordered a glass of pastis even though it was only 3 o’clock in the afternoon. Then he told Papa that he had been told to meet us here at the café all along, but he’d been curious to see our home in the Boulevard des Oiseaux so he’d taken it upon himself to call on us first. Papa looked even more furious at that.
I asked Monsieur Guigner how his friends were and asked if he’d been calling on them too, but he looked completely blank, which showed he was lying all along about knowing anyone in Casablanca, let alone living in the same street as us. Anyway, Papa discreetly handed over the sheet of blue notepaper and then downed his p’tit noir and said we must be getting back as Maman would be waiting for us.
Before we could leave, though, Monsieur Guigner put out a hand to stop Papa. ‘I don’t suppose you could lend me a little something to tide me over, could you, Guillaume? Times are hard right now and I’m going to need to cover a few unexpected expenses while I’m in Casablanca.’
Papa shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, no. Times are hard for all of us.’
Monsieur Guigner showed his yellow teeth in what was supposed to be a smile, but his eyes were as chilly as splinters of ice. ‘Oh dear, that’s a great shame. I quite understand, living in that grand house and keeping your lovely wife and daughters in the manner to which they’re accustomed can’t be cheap. But what a great pity it would be, wouldn’t it, if anything were to happen to them?’ He fixed his cold blue eyes on me when he said that and very deliberately tapped the corner of the folded blue note on the table. Then, very slowly, he tucked it into the folds of his black robe, still not taking his eyes off me as he did so, and then at last transferred his gaze to Papa again.
My papa’s face was furious. But he couldn’t fail to understand the threat and I guess there was nothing he could do. Very reluctantly, he said, ‘I don’t have much money on me. Here, take this, it’s almost all I have.’ He took out his wallet and handed over a small sheaf of notes to Monsieur Guigner.
‘Why, thank you, Guillaume. That’s most kind of you,’ said the vulture, as if this had come as a lovely surprise. ‘But I’m sure you could spare some more if I was to come to call on you again at the house, couldn’t you?’
Papa looked utterly miserable and I could see he was struggling to decide what to say. But Monsieur Guigner took the note out again and very deliberately tapped the corner of it on the table once more in a way that was clearly a threat. So in the end Papa nodded. ‘Come to the café again tomorrow at 3 o’clock and I’ll see what I can do. But I’m warning you, if you call at our home again I won’t give you another sou.’
With a grimace of a smile, the vulture took the money and stood up from the table. ‘Au revoir, Mademoiselle Josie,’ he said. ‘It’s been a pleasure, as always.’ He put a particular emphasis on the words au revoir, in a way that made my skin creep.
Well, it most certainly wasn’t a pleasure for me and Papa. I don’t think either of us felt at all happy about seeing Monsieur Guigner again.
True to his word, Papa left the house again the next afternoon to go to the café with the extra money for Monsieur Guigner. Just before 3 o’clock, I heard him in the hall putting on his jacket and telling Maman he was going out for half an hour or so. I started to come downstairs, thinking he might need me for camouflage, but I stopped in my tracks when I heard Maman say, ‘I hope you’re not meeting that horrible man again, Guillaume. I saw him at the door yesterday. You know how much I hate you having anything to do with him.’
Papa didn’t answer her. I suppose he didn’t want to tell her a complete lie. And then he glanced up and saw me and quickly shook his head, so I retreated back to the drawing room. Annette was there, flicking through the pages of an old copy of Movie Monthly that she’s already read about a thousand times, but it’s impossible to buy new magazines from America in the shops now.