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Challenge: Write a Short Story in a Week
- Thread starter Summerflyte
- Start date
Gita V.Reddy
Active Member
I suggest The Diamond Necklace by Maupassant. I always felt Loisel and her husband were harshly punished for an evening’s vanity. We could rewrite the story from the point Loisel discovers she has lost the necklace. We could rewrite their lives!
What do you (all) suggest?
What do you (all) suggest?
Gita V.Reddy
Active Member
I meant for it to be less work because for an existing story, the characters are already in place and I thought it would be more exercise for our creative muscles (that was creative, Meadow). Sparhawk says exercise is good.
Seriously, I thought it would be fun. Period.
Title: The Diamond Necklace
Author: Guy De Maupassant [More Titles by Maupassant]
The girl was one of those pretty and charming young creatures who sometimes are born, as if by a slip of fate, into a family of clerks. She had no dowry, no expectations, no way of being known, understood, loved, married by any rich and distinguished man; so she let herself be married to a little clerk of the Ministry of Public Instruction.
She dressed plainly because she could not dress well, but she was unhappy as if she had really fallen from a higher station; since with women there is neither caste nor rank, for beauty, grace and charm take the place of family and birth. Natural ingenuity, instinct for what is elegant, a supple mind are their sole hierarchy, and often make of women of the people the equals of the very greatest ladies.
Mathilde suffered ceaselessly, feeling herself born to enjoy all delicacies and all luxuries. She was distressed at the poverty of her dwelling, at the bareness of the walls, at the shabby chairs, the ugliness of the curtains. All those things, of which another woman of her rank would never even have been conscious, tortured her and made her angry. The sight of the little Breton peasant who did her humble housework aroused in her despairing regrets and bewildering dreams. She thought of silent antechambers hung with Oriental tapestry, illumined by tall bronze candelabra, and of two great footmen in knee breeches who sleep in the big armchairs, made drowsy by the oppressive heat of the stove. She thought of long reception halls hung with ancient silk, of the dainty cabinets containing priceless curiosities and of the little coquettish perfumed reception rooms made for chatting at five o'clock with intimate friends, with men famous and sought after, whom all women envy and whose attention they all desire.
When she sat down to dinner, before the round table covered with a tablecloth in use three days, opposite her husband, who uncovered the soup tureen and declared with a delighted air, "Ah, the good soup! I don't know anything better than that," she thought of dainty dinners, of shining silverware, of tapestry that peopled the walls with ancient personages and with strange birds flying in the midst of a fairy forest; and she thought of delicious dishes served on marvellous plates and of the whispered gallantries to which you listen with a sphinxlike smile while you are eating the pink meat of a trout or the wings of a quail.
She had no gowns, no jewels, nothing. And she loved nothing but that. She felt made for that. She would have liked so much to please, to be envied, to be charming, to be sought after.
She had a friend, a former schoolmate at the convent, who was rich, and whom she did not like to go to see any more because she felt so sad when she came home.
But one evening her husband reached home with a triumphant air and holding a large envelope in his hand.
"There," said he, "there is something for you."
She tore the paper quickly and drew out a printed card which bore these words:
The Minister of Public Instruction and Madame Georges Ramponneau request the honor of M. and Madame Loisel's company at the palace of the Ministry on Monday evening, January 18th.
Instead of being delighted, as her husband had hoped, she threw the invitation on the table crossly, muttering:
"What do you wish me to do with that?"
"Why, my dear, I thought you would be glad. You never go out, and this is such a fine opportunity. I had great trouble to get it. Every one wants to go; it is very select, and they are not giving many invitations to clerks. The whole official world will be there."
She looked at him with an irritated glance and said impatiently:
"And what do you wish me to put on my back?"
He had not thought of that. He stammered:
"Why, the gown you go to the theatre in. It looks very well to me."
He stopped, distracted, seeing that his wife was weeping. Two great tears ran slowly from the corners of her eyes toward the corners of her mouth.
"What's the matter? What's the matter?" he answered.
By a violent effort she conquered her grief and replied in a calm voice, while she wiped her wet cheeks:
"Nothing. Only I have no gown, and, therefore, I can't go to this ball. Give your card to some colleague whose wife is better equipped than I am."
He was in despair. He resumed:
"Come, let us see, Mathilde. How much would it cost, a suitable gown, which you could use on other occasions--something very simple?"
She reflected several seconds, making her calculations and wondering also what sum she could ask without drawing on herself an immediate refusal and a frightened exclamation from the economical clerk.
Finally she replied hesitating:
"I don't know exactly, but I think I could manage it with four hundred francs."
He grew a little pale, because he was laying aside just that amount to buy a gun and treat himself to a little shooting next summer on the plain of Nanterre, with several friends who went to shoot larks there of a Sunday.
But he said:
"Very well. I will give you four hundred francs. And try to have a pretty gown."
The day of the ball drew near and Madame Loisel seemed sad, uneasy, anxious. Her frock was ready, however. Her husband said to her one evening:
"What is the matter? Come, you have seemed very queer these last three days."
And she answered:
"It annoys me not to have a single piece of jewelry, not a single ornament, nothing to put on. I shall look poverty-stricken. I would almost rather not go at all."
"You might wear natural flowers," said her husband. "They're very stylish at this time of year. For ten francs you can get two or three magnificent roses."
She was not convinced.
"No; there's nothing more humiliating than to look poor among other women who are rich."
"How stupid you are!" her husband cried. "Go look up your friend, Madame Forestier, and ask her to lend you some jewels. You're intimate enough with her to do that."
She uttered a cry of joy:
"True! I never thought of it."
The next day she went to her friend and told her of her distress.
Madame Forestier went to a wardrobe with a mirror, took out a large jewel box, brought it back, opened it and said to Madame Loisel:
"Choose, my dear."
She saw first some bracelets, then a pearl necklace, then a Venetian gold cross set with precious stones, of admirable workmanship. She tried on the ornaments before the mirror, hesitated and could not make up her mind to part with them, to give them back. She kept asking:
"Haven't you any more?"
"Why, yes. Look further; I don't know what you like."
Suddenly she discovered, in a black satin box, a superb diamond necklace, and her heart throbbed with an immoderate desire. Her hands trembled as she took it. She fastened it round her throat, outside her high-necked waist, and was lost in ecstasy at her reflection in the mirror.
Then she asked, hesitating, filled with anxious doubt:
"Will you lend me this, only this?"
"Why, yes, certainly."
She threw her arms round her friend's neck, kissed her passionately, then fled with her treasure.
The night of the ball arrived. Madame Loisel was a great success. She was prettier than any other woman present, elegant, graceful, smiling and wild with joy. All the men looked at her, asked her name, sought to be introduced. All the attaches of the Cabinet wished to waltz with her. She was remarked by the minister himself.
She danced with rapture, with passion, intoxicated by pleasure, forgetting all in the triumph of her beauty, in the glory of her success, in a sort of cloud of happiness comprised of all this homage, admiration, these awakened desires and of that sense of triumph which is so sweet to woman's heart.
She left the ball about four o'clock in the morning. Her husband had been sleeping since midnight in a little deserted anteroom with three other gentlemen whose wives were enjoying the ball.
He threw over her shoulders the wraps he had brought, the modest wraps of common life, the poverty of which contrasted with the elegance of the ball dress. She felt this and wished to escape so as not to be remarked by the other women, who were enveloping themselves in costly furs.
Loisel held her back, saying: "Wait a bit. You will catch cold outside. I will call a cab."
But she did not listen to him and rapidly descended the stairs. When they reached the street they could not find a carriage and began to look for one, shouting after the cabmen passing at a distance.
They went toward the Seine in despair, shivering with cold. At last they found on the quay one of those ancient night cabs which, as though they were ashamed to show their shabbiness during the day, are never seen round Paris until after dark.
It took them to their dwelling in the Rue des Martyrs, and sadly they mounted the stairs to their flat. All was ended for her. As to him, he reflected that he must be at the ministry at ten o'clock that morning.
She removed her wraps before the glass so as to see herself once more in all her glory. But suddenly she uttered a cry. She no longer had the necklace around her neck!
"What is the matter with you?" demanded her husband, already half undressed.
She turned distractedly toward him.
"I have--I have--I've lost Madame Forestier's necklace," she cried.
He stood up, bewildered.
"What!--how? Impossible!"
They looked among the folds of her skirt, of her cloak, in her pockets, everywhere, but did not find it.
"You're sure you had it on when you left the ball?" he asked.
"Yes, I felt it in the vestibule of the minister's house."
"But if you had lost it in the street we should have heard it fall. It must be in the cab."
"Yes, probably. Did you take his number?"
"No. And you--didn't you notice it?"
"No."
They looked, thunderstruck, at each other. At last Loisel put on his clothes.
"I shall go back on foot," said he, "over the whole route, to see whether I can find it."
He went out. She sat waiting on a chair in her ball dress, without strength to go to bed, overwhelmed, without any fire, without a thought.
Her husband returned about seven o'clock. He had found nothing.
He went to police headquarters, to the newspaper offices to offer a reward; he went to the cab companies--everywhere, in fact, whither he was urged by the least spark of hope.
She waited all day, in the same condition of mad fear before this terrible calamity.
Loisel returned at night with a hollow, pale face. He had discovered nothing.
"You must write to your friend," said he, "that you have broken the clasp of her necklace and that you are having it mended. That will give us time to turn round."
She wrote at his dictation.
At the end of a week they had lost all hope. Loisel, who had aged five years, declared:
"We must consider how to replace that ornament."
The next day they took the box that had contained it and went to the jeweler whose name was found within. He consulted his books.
"It was not I, madame, who sold that necklace; I must simply have furnished the case."
Then they went from jeweler to jeweler, searching for a necklace like the other, trying to recall it, both sick with chagrin and grief.
They found, in a shop at the Palais Royal, a string of diamonds that seemed to them exactly like the one they had lost. It was worth forty thousand francs. They could have it for thirty-six.
So they begged the jeweler not to sell it for three days yet. And they made a bargain that he should buy it back for thirty-four thousand francs, in case they should find the lost necklace before the end of February.
Loisel possessed eighteen thousand francs which his father had left him. He would borrow the rest.
He did borrow, asking a thousand francs of one, five hundred of another, five louis here, three louis there. He gave notes, took up ruinous obligations, dealt with usurers and all the race of lenders. He compromised all the rest of his life, risked signing a note without even knowing whether he could meet it; and, frightened by the trouble yet to come, by the black misery that was about to fall upon him, by the prospect of all the physical privations and moral tortures that he was to suffer, he went to get the new necklace, laying upon the jeweler's counter thirty-six thousand francs.
When Madame Loisel took back the necklace Madame Forestier said to her with a chilly manner:
"You should have returned it sooner; I might have needed it."
She did not open the case, as her friend had so much feared. If she had detected the substitution, what would she have thought, what would she have said? Would she not have taken Madame Loisel for a thief?
Thereafter Madame Loisel knew the horrible existence of the needy. She bore her part, however, with sudden heroism. That dreadful debt must be paid. She would pay it. They dismissed their servant; they changed their lodgings; they rented a garret under the roof.
She came to know what heavy housework meant and the odious cares of the kitchen. She washed the dishes, using her dainty fingers and rosy nails on greasy pots and pans. She washed the soiled linen, the shirts and the dishcloths, which she dried upon a line; she carried the slops down to the street every morning and carried up the water, stopping for breath at every landing. And dressed like a woman of the people, she went to the fruiterer, the grocer, the butcher, a basket on her arm, bargaining, meeting with impertinence, defending her miserable money, sou by sou.
Every month they had to meet some notes, renew others, obtain more time.
Her husband worked evenings, making up a tradesman's accounts, and late at night he often copied manuscript for five sous a page.
This life lasted ten years.
At the end of ten years they had paid everything, everything, with the rates of usury and the accumulations of the compound interest.
Madame Loisel looked old now. She had become the woman of impoverished households--strong and hard and rough. With frowsy hair, skirts askew and red hands, she talked loud while washing the floor with great swishes of water. But sometimes, when her husband was at the office, she sat down near the window and she thought of that gay evening of long ago, of that ball where she had been so beautiful and so admired.
What would have happened if she had not lost that necklace? Who knows? who knows? How strange and changeful is life! How small a thing is needed to make or ruin us!
But one Sunday, having gone to take a walk in the Champs Elysees to refresh herself after the labors of the week, she suddenly perceived a woman who was leading a child. It was Madame Forestier, still young, still beautiful, still charming.
Madame Loisel felt moved. Should she speak to her? Yes, certainly. And now that she had paid, she would tell her all about it. Why not?
She went up.
"Good-day, Jeanne."
The other, astonished to be familiarly addressed by this plain good-wife, did not recognize her at all and stammered:
"But--madame!--I do not know--You must have mistaken."
"No. I am Mathilde Loisel."
Her friend uttered a cry.
"Oh, my poor Mathilde! How you are changed!"
"Yes, I have had a pretty hard life, since I last saw you, and great poverty--and that because of you!"
"Of me! How so?"
"Do you remember that diamond necklace you lent me to wear at the ministerial ball?"
"Yes. Well?"
"Well, I lost it."
"What do you mean? You brought it back."
"I brought you back another exactly like it. And it has taken us ten years to pay for it. You can understand that it was not easy for us, for us who had nothing. At last it is ended, and I am very glad."
Madame Forestier had stopped.
"You say that you bought a necklace of diamonds to replace mine?"
"Yes. You never noticed it, then! They were very similar."
And she smiled with a joy that was at once proud and ingenuous.
Madame Forestier, deeply moved, took her hands.
"Oh, my poor Mathilde! Why, my necklace was paste! It was worth at most only five hundred francs!"
Meadow337
Former Moderator
And with that, Mathilde, maddened with rage, at the unfairness played on her by her friend's duplicitousness, withdrew from her dress a knife she kept there to defend herself on the dark Parisian streets and plunged it into Madame Forestier's breast, killing her instantly. When the police came to arrest her, all she could say was "They were paste, just paste. All this time they were just paste".
Gita V.Reddy
Active Member
How about another try from the point Mathilde discovers she has lost the necklace?"I have--I have--I've lost Madame Forestier's necklace," she cried.
Meadow337
Former Moderator
"You stupid fool," her husband cried, "How could you be so careless?"
"I know" she sobbed "I ... I ... don't know how it happened."
"You must have broken the clasp when you fiddled with them so much on the way home." her husband continued "I watched you, constantly tugging at them, touching them."
Mathilde just sobbed harder.
"You must go find them and do not return to this house until you do, for it will be impossible for us to ever repay the cost of those diamonds."
Mathilde left the house to search for the lost necklace. She searched the streets all night looking for sign of either the cab or the necklace. The next morning she was bone weary and her fine dress bedraggled and mud spattered. Just as she was about to turn back home a coach pulled up beside her and Madame Forestier leaned out. "My Dear Mathilde, what on earth ever happened to you. Why you are in quite a state of disrepair. Were you set upon by footpads after the party?" Madame Forestier got out her coach and urged her friend to get in. Undone by this kindness Mathilde burst into tears and confessed that she had been searching all night for the lost necklace.
Upon hearing this sad tale Madame Forestier burst out laughing. "Why my Dear, did you go to so much trouble? Did you not know they were mere paste?"
Mathilde could hardly credit this "Paste?" she murmured.
"Yes paste." Madame Forestierconfessed, "I do not have the wealth to buy such fine diamonds, and there is such pressure upon one to present a certain 'face' to the world. The only way one can do it is to know the right dressmakers, and makers of fine paste imitations."
Mathilde paled even further. All the wealth she coveted so much, all the beauty, all the fine and beautiful things were fake? She pushed away Madame Forestier's comforting arm and said wildly "I must go." and ran from the carriage. By the time she arrived home, she had a fresh perspective on the joys of the simple unpretentious life she and her husband led, and lived the rest of her days in contentment. Although her memory of that wonderful night that she shone like a star in the firmament remained with her also.
"I know" she sobbed "I ... I ... don't know how it happened."
"You must have broken the clasp when you fiddled with them so much on the way home." her husband continued "I watched you, constantly tugging at them, touching them."
Mathilde just sobbed harder.
"You must go find them and do not return to this house until you do, for it will be impossible for us to ever repay the cost of those diamonds."
Mathilde left the house to search for the lost necklace. She searched the streets all night looking for sign of either the cab or the necklace. The next morning she was bone weary and her fine dress bedraggled and mud spattered. Just as she was about to turn back home a coach pulled up beside her and Madame Forestier leaned out. "My Dear Mathilde, what on earth ever happened to you. Why you are in quite a state of disrepair. Were you set upon by footpads after the party?" Madame Forestier got out her coach and urged her friend to get in. Undone by this kindness Mathilde burst into tears and confessed that she had been searching all night for the lost necklace.
Upon hearing this sad tale Madame Forestier burst out laughing. "Why my Dear, did you go to so much trouble? Did you not know they were mere paste?"
Mathilde could hardly credit this "Paste?" she murmured.
"Yes paste." Madame Forestierconfessed, "I do not have the wealth to buy such fine diamonds, and there is such pressure upon one to present a certain 'face' to the world. The only way one can do it is to know the right dressmakers, and makers of fine paste imitations."
Mathilde paled even further. All the wealth she coveted so much, all the beauty, all the fine and beautiful things were fake? She pushed away Madame Forestier's comforting arm and said wildly "I must go." and ran from the carriage. By the time she arrived home, she had a fresh perspective on the joys of the simple unpretentious life she and her husband led, and lived the rest of her days in contentment. Although her memory of that wonderful night that she shone like a star in the firmament remained with her also.
Gita V.Reddy
Active Member
Liked it a lot but hey, its very close to what I was writing. I'll have to start afreash.
It's true: Great minds think alike / Fools seldom differ .
It's true: Great minds think alike
/ Fools seldom differ .
Meadow337
Former Moderator
I think I preferred my murderous ending All I could think lol was why didn't the silly cow blinking well SAY they were paste? And how p'ed off I would be under similar circumstances. Although I'm not inclined to actually whip out a knife and do some one in - certainly there are times when the THOUGHT is kind of there
All I could think lol was why didn't the silly cow blinking well SAY they were paste? And how p'ed off I would be under similar circumstances. Although I'm not inclined to actually whip out a knife and do some one in - certainly there are times when the THOUGHT is kind of there
Meadow337
Former Moderator
Liked it a lot but hey, its very close to what I was writing. I'll have to start afreash.
It's true: Great minds think alike
Sorry
been there done that I prefer to think it 'great minds' rather than 'fools'
Gita V.Reddy
Active Member
"I have--I have--I've lost Madame Forestier's necklace," she cried.
********
Monsieur Henri Forestier was an important man. Everyone knew he was the right person to go to if you had to get work done in any ministry; he had contacts everywhere.
He was liked well enough, both for the power he wielded and for his easy laugh. No one had seen look anything but genial. No one, except his wife, Jeanne.
Jeanne knew very well that Henri used his laugh as a mask. She had learnt to read all the signs. When, at a party, a ministry official, after imbibing too much, had accused of him being a cheap broker, Henri had laughed and asked the others to carry the poor man home but Jeanne had seen the tell tale muscle beat at his temple which told her that Henri was furious.
A day later, the man was in a severe accident. The papers called it a freak accident but Jeanne knew Henri was behind it. She had learnt, the hard way, to keep silent. But today, she would have to speak. Henri had gone too far. He had involved her in his plans, she did not know what they were but they would hurt poor little Mathilde.
“Why did you do it?” she demanded, as soon as Henri came out of his dressing room.
“Do what?”
“You know what I mean! You made me remove her necklace.”
“Her necklace? I thought it was yours.”
“You know what I mean! I wish I hadn’t told you I had lent her the necklace.”
“Stop it. You know I don’t like scenes.’
Jeanne sniffed but did not stop. She really was very upset. When Henri had tossed the invitation for the ministry function, she had been delighted. Unlike the other parties Henri made her attend, she would enjoy the evening because Mathilde too would be there.
When the party broke up, he had taken her aside and hissed in her ear, “I want you to remove Mathilde’s necklace when she leaves.”
He had not waited for her answer but she knew what his parting look meant. If she did not remove the necklace, Henri would extract a price for her disobedience. A high price.
“Why did you make me do this? I can imagine Mathilde’s condition. Her husband’s too. They will be distraught.”
**********
“Pierre! I am so sorry! What shall we do?” Mathilde asked again. She had been repeating herself and weeping since they had returned home in the early hours of the morning, after a fruitless search for the diamond necklace.
Pierre was sure the necklace would not be recovered. It was obviously worth thousands of francs. He had filed a complaint with the police but he knew nothing would come out of it.
He looked at the time. He would have to leave for the ministry; he had a very important file to deal with.
“Mathilde dearest, stop crying. It’s as much my fault as yours. I shouldn’t have suggested you to borrow jewelry from your friend.”
“It was I who lost the necklace!” said Mathilde on a fresh bout of tears.
After comforting Mathilde as best as he could, Pierre hurried to the ministry. The worries of the night and lack of sleep had given him a pounding headache but he could not take the day off.
Seated at his corner table in the ministry, Pierre concentrated on the file. It had come with many recommendations and indirect hints offering Pierre bribes but Pierre knew what he had to do. He would recommend for the project to be declined.
Someone came to his table. Pierre looked up. It was Charles Francois, and he had a lot of money coming from the project Pierre had decided the ministry should decline.
Without waiting for Pierre to invite him, Charles took a seat.
“Have you looked into our file?” he asked.
Pierre pursed his lips. Didn’t the man know ministry business was confidential? Pierre shut the file and set it aside.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“You know what I want,” Charles said, “I also know what you want. You want a diamond necklace.”
“What?” Pierre spluttered. “How do you ….I understand. You found the necklace. It is not yours to keep. Return it.”
“I didn’t say I have the necklace. I know you need to replace the necklace. I can give you one if you give a favorable report of our project. Your superiors trust you. They will sign if you clear the file.”
Before Pierre could speak, Charles left with a charming bow and the words, “Think about it. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
***************
Mathilde ceased weeping and sent a note to Jeanne.
Cherie,
I am feeling ill. I am afraid the evening didn’t agree with me. I’ll visit you soon and return your necklace.
Your chere amie,
Mathilde.
Jeanne was alone when the note arrived. Henri had already left. She read the note twice and knew what agonies her little friend was undergoing.
On an impulse, she decided to visit her. Without knowing why she did it, she took the necklace with her.
Mathilde’s face was blotched and swollen. Jeanne guessed she had spent the night crying her eyes out.
“What’s the matter? I came as soon as I got your note. You said you were ill. How are you feeling?”
The sweet sympathy in Jeanne’s voice made Mathilde forget this was Madame Forestier, rich Madame Forestier whose necklace she had lost. She sounded like the Jeanne who was with her at the convent, the Jeanne with whom she had shared all her secrets.
“I’ve lost your necklace,” she wailed. “I’ve lost your necklace and I’ve ruined Pierre’s life. You know how sweet and honorable he is and he loves me very much. He will somehow replace the necklace but it will ruin his life and I will be the cause.”
Mathile continued to weep and cry out about how good Pierre was and how she hated hurting him.
Jeanne sat by her side, stroking her hair. She too was remembering her girlhood at the convent. They had shared their dreams. Mathilde had wanted love and she had wanted riches. She knew Mathilde now coveted riches and she Jeanne, wanted love.
“Mathilde, love, don’t weep. I came to tell you I found the necklace in the vestibule after you left. Here, it’s in my bag.”
Mathilde quickly dried her tears. Soon she was hysterical with joy. She caressed the necklace, kissed Jeanne’s cheek, clasped her hands and cried, “Pierre will be so, so happy.”
Jeanne somehow left Mathilde and came down to the street. Instead of going home directly, she went to the park, to think.
She thought about her loveless marriage and about life with Henri that was no better than a prison. Yes, she would escape from the prison. As a first step, Jeanne entered the jewelers opposite the park. She wanted to get the diamonds valued. Henri never gave her any money. The only wealth she had was her jewelry.
When Jeanne learnt the diamonds were not real, they were paste, she was stunned, but not for long.
She knew what she had to do. Even though she was filled with a murderous rage, she was thinking calmly.
*****************
Pierre was very troubled. He prided himself on his honesty and had always been sure he would never succumb to any pressure. Though he told himself again and again there had to another way, he was afraid of what he might finally do.
As soon as he reached home, bracing himself against Mathilde’s tears, she flung herself into his arms. “Pierre, darling! The necklace is found. I promise I’ll never again hanker after anything!”
Henri returned home in a satisfied frame of mind. His calculations had worked. Again. Pierre would clear the files and Charles would give him a hefty commission.
He was surprised to find Jeanne absent from home. He knew she was upset about the necklace. He shrugged. She would have to toughen up and learn to play the game.
He entered his study and went to his table. The drawer where he kept his important files was open and his papers were missing! Those papers could incriminate him and many others.
***************
In what had become the most avidly followed legal suit, many well known and powerful people, alone with Henri Forestier, were exposed as criminals. They all got jail sentences; Henri’s was the longest at sixty-seven years.
Jeanne was a rich woman, not through Henri’s estate which was confiscated, but through the cash rewards from the government. So was Pierre. When Jeanne had turned up at his house with the papers, he and Mathilde had taken her in.
With his knowledge about government matters and his access to ministry departments, he had dug out a lot of information against the criminals and had shared in the government rewards.
Jeanne found love, true love with Pierre’s friend in the ministry.
They all lived happily thereafter.
Except for Henri but then he was the villain.
********
Monsieur Henri Forestier was an important man. Everyone knew he was the right person to go to if you had to get work done in any ministry; he had contacts everywhere.
He was liked well enough, both for the power he wielded and for his easy laugh. No one had seen look anything but genial. No one, except his wife, Jeanne.
Jeanne knew very well that Henri used his laugh as a mask. She had learnt to read all the signs. When, at a party, a ministry official, after imbibing too much, had accused of him being a cheap broker, Henri had laughed and asked the others to carry the poor man home but Jeanne had seen the tell tale muscle beat at his temple which told her that Henri was furious.
A day later, the man was in a severe accident. The papers called it a freak accident but Jeanne knew Henri was behind it. She had learnt, the hard way, to keep silent. But today, she would have to speak. Henri had gone too far. He had involved her in his plans, she did not know what they were but they would hurt poor little Mathilde.
“Why did you do it?” she demanded, as soon as Henri came out of his dressing room.
“Do what?”
“You know what I mean! You made me remove her necklace.”
“Her necklace? I thought it was yours.”
“You know what I mean! I wish I hadn’t told you I had lent her the necklace.”
“Stop it. You know I don’t like scenes.’
Jeanne sniffed but did not stop. She really was very upset. When Henri had tossed the invitation for the ministry function, she had been delighted. Unlike the other parties Henri made her attend, she would enjoy the evening because Mathilde too would be there.
When the party broke up, he had taken her aside and hissed in her ear, “I want you to remove Mathilde’s necklace when she leaves.”
He had not waited for her answer but she knew what his parting look meant. If she did not remove the necklace, Henri would extract a price for her disobedience. A high price.
“Why did you make me do this? I can imagine Mathilde’s condition. Her husband’s too. They will be distraught.”
**********
“Pierre! I am so sorry! What shall we do?” Mathilde asked again. She had been repeating herself and weeping since they had returned home in the early hours of the morning, after a fruitless search for the diamond necklace.
Pierre was sure the necklace would not be recovered. It was obviously worth thousands of francs. He had filed a complaint with the police but he knew nothing would come out of it.
He looked at the time. He would have to leave for the ministry; he had a very important file to deal with.
“Mathilde dearest, stop crying. It’s as much my fault as yours. I shouldn’t have suggested you to borrow jewelry from your friend.”
“It was I who lost the necklace!” said Mathilde on a fresh bout of tears.
After comforting Mathilde as best as he could, Pierre hurried to the ministry. The worries of the night and lack of sleep had given him a pounding headache but he could not take the day off.
Seated at his corner table in the ministry, Pierre concentrated on the file. It had come with many recommendations and indirect hints offering Pierre bribes but Pierre knew what he had to do. He would recommend for the project to be declined.
Someone came to his table. Pierre looked up. It was Charles Francois, and he had a lot of money coming from the project Pierre had decided the ministry should decline.
Without waiting for Pierre to invite him, Charles took a seat.
“Have you looked into our file?” he asked.
Pierre pursed his lips. Didn’t the man know ministry business was confidential? Pierre shut the file and set it aside.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“You know what I want,” Charles said, “I also know what you want. You want a diamond necklace.”
“What?” Pierre spluttered. “How do you ….I understand. You found the necklace. It is not yours to keep. Return it.”
“I didn’t say I have the necklace. I know you need to replace the necklace. I can give you one if you give a favorable report of our project. Your superiors trust you. They will sign if you clear the file.”
Before Pierre could speak, Charles left with a charming bow and the words, “Think about it. I’ll be back tomorrow.”
***************
Mathilde ceased weeping and sent a note to Jeanne.
Cherie,
I am feeling ill. I am afraid the evening didn’t agree with me. I’ll visit you soon and return your necklace.
Your chere amie,
Mathilde.
Jeanne was alone when the note arrived. Henri had already left. She read the note twice and knew what agonies her little friend was undergoing.
On an impulse, she decided to visit her. Without knowing why she did it, she took the necklace with her.
Mathilde’s face was blotched and swollen. Jeanne guessed she had spent the night crying her eyes out.
“What’s the matter? I came as soon as I got your note. You said you were ill. How are you feeling?”
The sweet sympathy in Jeanne’s voice made Mathilde forget this was Madame Forestier, rich Madame Forestier whose necklace she had lost. She sounded like the Jeanne who was with her at the convent, the Jeanne with whom she had shared all her secrets.
“I’ve lost your necklace,” she wailed. “I’ve lost your necklace and I’ve ruined Pierre’s life. You know how sweet and honorable he is and he loves me very much. He will somehow replace the necklace but it will ruin his life and I will be the cause.”
Mathile continued to weep and cry out about how good Pierre was and how she hated hurting him.
Jeanne sat by her side, stroking her hair. She too was remembering her girlhood at the convent. They had shared their dreams. Mathilde had wanted love and she had wanted riches. She knew Mathilde now coveted riches and she Jeanne, wanted love.
“Mathilde, love, don’t weep. I came to tell you I found the necklace in the vestibule after you left. Here, it’s in my bag.”
Mathilde quickly dried her tears. Soon she was hysterical with joy. She caressed the necklace, kissed Jeanne’s cheek, clasped her hands and cried, “Pierre will be so, so happy.”
Jeanne somehow left Mathilde and came down to the street. Instead of going home directly, she went to the park, to think.
She thought about her loveless marriage and about life with Henri that was no better than a prison. Yes, she would escape from the prison. As a first step, Jeanne entered the jewelers opposite the park. She wanted to get the diamonds valued. Henri never gave her any money. The only wealth she had was her jewelry.
When Jeanne learnt the diamonds were not real, they were paste, she was stunned, but not for long.
She knew what she had to do. Even though she was filled with a murderous rage, she was thinking calmly.
*****************
Pierre was very troubled. He prided himself on his honesty and had always been sure he would never succumb to any pressure. Though he told himself again and again there had to another way, he was afraid of what he might finally do.
As soon as he reached home, bracing himself against Mathilde’s tears, she flung herself into his arms. “Pierre, darling! The necklace is found. I promise I’ll never again hanker after anything!”
Henri returned home in a satisfied frame of mind. His calculations had worked. Again. Pierre would clear the files and Charles would give him a hefty commission.
He was surprised to find Jeanne absent from home. He knew she was upset about the necklace. He shrugged. She would have to toughen up and learn to play the game.
He entered his study and went to his table. The drawer where he kept his important files was open and his papers were missing! Those papers could incriminate him and many others.
***************
In what had become the most avidly followed legal suit, many well known and powerful people, alone with Henri Forestier, were exposed as criminals. They all got jail sentences; Henri’s was the longest at sixty-seven years.
Jeanne was a rich woman, not through Henri’s estate which was confiscated, but through the cash rewards from the government. So was Pierre. When Jeanne had turned up at his house with the papers, he and Mathilde had taken her in.
With his knowledge about government matters and his access to ministry departments, he had dug out a lot of information against the criminals and had shared in the government rewards.
Jeanne found love, true love with Pierre’s friend in the ministry.
They all lived happily thereafter.
Except for Henri but then he was the villain.
Lovecraftian
Active Member
I keep ADDing on this...