Thursday at Lavigny

Thursday at Lavigny

Thursday at Lavigny

Hugh goes down the garden to a secret place.
Me, in the noon sunshine, drinking wine, pale blue lake at my feet.
Huguette, first up, is eating marmalade and talking about a small bird in her room, in the night. Donatella cannot sleep for thoughts of a rendezvous in Paris, or is it Brussels – her heart will not lie calm until Nagwa phones a friend for answers.
Hugh meanders amongst roses, goes down the garden to his secret place, me on the terrace, empty glass of wine, shrouded mountain, pale blue lake.
Nagwa smokes a cigarillo and talks of Egypt and Jackson state in Mississippi,
she has no feel for rain. Huguette unseen all day, dreams amidst birdsong of lives long past, in letters and diaries and books. Donatella smiles, she is driving to the station at ease, she’ll book a trip to Paris.
When Sophie comes up the steps that Hugh goes down, Tatiana in her arms, Thursday pours down upon us.