Free Jezebel by Irène Némirovsky

tired and unhappy, grit their teeth and work even harder; she was a masseuse and a midwife, but she also supplied beauty products. Sometimes, during a massage, in a rare moment of effusiveness, she would stand up straight and sigh; her bare arm would wipe away the sweat from her brow with the same gesture a laundress might use. Then her face would light up with a fleeting smile and she would think, ‘What can any of
you
know about life?
I’ve
seen it all …’
    She lived in three little rooms that smelled of herbs and camphor, and was filled from morning to night by veiled women who waited their turn and pretended not to notice each other. She wore rings that dug into the flesh of her thick, agile hands, but she knew how to transform all their tired faces, how to mould them, make their wrinkles disappear, how to create a deceptive mask out of their old flesh.
    She bought dresses, jewellery and furs from courtesanswho had gambled away everything, and sold them to her regular clients.
    When Gladys saw the sable pelts, she shook her head and gently held Carmen at bay. ‘No, I don’t want to buy anything, no.’
    ‘Just have a look,’ said the old woman.
    Gladys had turned away and was talking to Lily Ferrer.
    ‘Do speak to George,’ Lily was begging her quietly. ‘Make him understand that he is killing me. There is a limit to a woman’s patience. He’s not evil, but he’s so nonchalant, so cruel. He’s tempted by every woman he sees.’
    ‘Come on, now,’ whispered Gladys, slowly shrugging her lovely shoulders. ‘Lily! You must be more sensible than that. What’s the point of letting yourself suffer?’
    The old woman sighed. ‘Love,’ she said, and a tear rolled down her painted cheek.
    ‘He cares for you very much.’ She took Lily’s hands in hers. ‘Darling, listen to me …’
    She enjoyed talking about love, hearing secret confidences, wiping away tears. She knew how to console, appease, flatter. Love was the only thing she was interested in; everything else made her feel nothing more than gracious indifference.
    Lily finally seemed calmer. Gladys left her alone and went to see Carmen, who was waiting in the next room.
    ‘Are you interested?’ asked Carmen, pointing to the sable furs.
    Gladys slowly stroked the beautiful pelts. ‘No, I don’t need any new furs. But they are beautiful …’
    ‘They belonged to Celina Meller,’ said Carmen, namingan old courtesan who had been famous in the past. ‘They’re a set of furs that a lover gave her from Russia, a long time ago. She had a beautiful outfit made for the balls, but she had to sell it six months ago. These are the few that were left, which she wanted to use to have other outfits made. They must be sold now, along with everything else she owns. This one would make a very beautiful collar for your velvet cape, the white one.’
    ‘Celina Meller?’ murmured Gladys. ‘Is she that poor, then?’
    ‘Oh, yes! She’s got nothing left.’
    ‘She was so beautiful, and that was only ten years ago.’
    ‘Time goes fast at that age.’
    ‘Poor woman,’ said Gladys.
    She had a sensitive, vivid imagination, but focused entirely on herself. Yet in a flash she imagined an old woman whose wrinkles made happier memories fade away.
    ‘How much does she want for them?’
    ‘Four thousand. It’s a steal. But she has no choice. Everyone knows she needs money and is offering her half that.’
    ‘All right, then. Leave them here. I’ll buy them to help her out, the poor woman.’
    ‘All right,’ said Carmen in her gloomy voice. ‘You’re getting a bargain; I know what I’m talking about.’
    Lily came in to find them.
    ‘Come and have lunch with me, Gladys,’ she said. ‘That way you’ll get to see him,’ she added more quietly.
    ‘Oh, I can’t, darling, I promised my little daughter I’d have lunch with her. She complains that she never sees me and she’s right.’
    ‘You’re lucky to have a little girl,’ Lily Ferrer said,