The Night Of The Bulls. Anne Mather
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nodded. ‘Of course. And Yvonne.’
A knife twisted in Dionne’s stomach. ‘Oh, yes, Yvonne,’ she agreed tautly.
Louise stared at her for a long moment. ‘You are looking thinner, Dionne. How have you been? Are you still teaching?’
Dionne compressed her lips. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said dully. ‘Yes, I still teach. And you? Are you finished school?’
‘Manoel wants to send me to a school in Switzerland, but I don’t want to go. I love it here. I can see no possible reason for him to send me away. Just because he finds life so impossible.’ She flicked a glance in Dionne’s direction. ‘You know of Yvonne’s accident, of course.’
Dionne’s attention was riveted. ‘No,’ she denied swiftly. ‘What accident?’
Louise shrugged. ‘She was gored by a bull. She is paralysed from the waist down.’
Dionne gasped in horror. Louise said it so chillingly, so carelessly. Almost as though she considered the accident was nothing more than Yvonne’s due.
‘But how terrible!’ Dionne spread her hands. ‘When – when did this happen?’
Louise shrugged again. ‘Soon after you left, I suppose. Is it important?’
‘You don’t think so?’ Dionne was horrified.
Louise played with the reins of the bridle. ‘Yvonne asked for all she got,’ she said coldly. ‘She was angry with Manoel, and she thought she could annoy him by teasing his bulls.’ She gave a characteristic movement of her shoulders. ‘No one can play with bulls!’
Dionne tugged at a strand of silky hair that had come loose from her chignon. No wonder Manoel looked so much older, so much more experienced. What a terrible time it must have been for him!
Now Louise touched her arm lightly. ‘It’s good to see you again, Dionne. I mean that. But why did you want to see Manoel? I thought — we thought—’ She halted abruptly, biting her lips. ‘Are you staying long in the Camargue?’
Dionne fingered the rim of the car door absently. ‘I don’t know, Louise. It – it depends.’
Louise sighed. ‘Did you come out here to see Manoel?’
Dionne hesitated and then she nodded. ‘Yes. Where is he?’
‘Actually he is away today,’ replied Louise, frowning. ‘At the vineyards.’ She stared at the other girl for a long moment. ‘What happened last night?’
‘What do you mean?’ Dionne pretended not to understand.
‘Between you and my brother? Dionne, you know what I mean. He came home in a terrible temper! Not even Yvonne dared to question him. Only I guessed you must have had a row.’
Dionne made a wry face. ‘I must go, Louise. If Manoel is not here, there’s no point – I mean – I have no reason to go to the mas.’
‘And Grand’mère? Do I tell her I’ve seen you?’
Dionne slid behind the wheel of the car. ‘I can’t stop you, of course,’ she said. ‘But perhaps it would not be kind, in the circumstances.’
‘Oh, Dionne!’ Louise clenched her fists, leaning on the bonnet of the car. ‘Why are you so secretive? Why have you come back after all this time? Surely you must have known what it would do to Manoel to see you again – now!’
Dionne started the car’s engine. ‘I’m sorry, Louise. I’m sorry if you think I’m secretive. And I would have liked to see Gemma.’ Her voice broke, and she shook her head. ‘Good-bye.’
‘Good-bye, Dionne.’ Louise straightened and then ran a few steps to catch up with her again. ‘May I come to see you at the hotel before you leave?’
Dionne’s fingers tightened on the wheel. ‘I don’t think that would be a very good idea,’ she said. ‘Au revoir.’
Louise raised a hand in farewell, and Dionne reversed on up the track until she came to a wider point where she could turn the car. Then she drove swiftly away, the lump in her throat threatening to choke her.
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