Some readers might find my use of Madame or the abbreviation Mme in this story a little formal or old fashioned. This I have done quite deliberately for two reasons. First, the story takes place in rural France where the old fashioned rules of politeness are still observed. With the family, close friends or children forenames and informal (2nd person singular) pronouns are the norm. However outside this circle, Monsieur, Madame and formal (2nd person plural) pronouns are considered the correct form of address unless one is asked to do otherwise. My second reason, I hope, will become clear during the course of the narrative.
I have also from time to time used a few French expressions in the text. Some I have explained, the others I hope can be worked out from the context.
Madame Sylvie de Bellecorps was a very kind and generous lady. Rather too generous some of the women would say, as they gossiped in the hairdressers' salon or the village shop. Mme. Sylvie, as she was generally known, had been one of the principal subjects of village gossip for over twenty years.
How is it though, that someone could be accused of being too generous?
Should you ask any of these gossiping ladies you certainly wouldn't receive an answer. Their attitude to outsiders was if you know you don't need to ask, and if you don't know they are certainly not going to tell you.
So what clues can we get from looking at Sylvie de Bellecorps herself?
She stands a little taller than the average height for women of that region. She is slim without being skinny, her long legs lead the eye up to a nicely rounded bottom and her figure is curvaceous but, not out of proportion to her slender frame. Her long black hair she often wears in a loose bun on the back of her head. In short, she is attractive but unremarkable. At first glance, similar to many women one might see in any street, in any town, anywhere in France.
To learn more we need to look more closely.
Imagine, if you will, that we are sitting outside the Bar du Marché sipping cold beer in the warm spring sunshine and looking out over the market square of Puy Saint Martin; the village in which the lady in question lives. From a house on the other side of the square a woman, Mme Sylvie, emerges and walks purposefully past us and towards the village shop a hundred or so metres away down Rue Grande. What do we see?
Firstly, our eyes are naturally drawn to this attractive young looking woman in a light, slightly clingy, summer dress crossing the empty square. As she passes us, our eyes follow and we notice that her bottom wiggles alluringly, this natural movement accentuated by the way that she walks.
What else might we notice?
By the way this lady holds herself, she appears a little taller than her stature. Her walk and her posture speak of an unshakable self-assurance, of total ownership of the space around her. Perhaps this superiority of bearing, and the air of haughtiness might be because she is the daughter of a once aristocratic and still highly respected local family. However, any of her friends and neighbours will tell you that in her everyday dealings she is just as down to earth as anyone else, not at all as haughty as she might appear. No, her walk tells of something else, something feline, and predatory almost, but this predator does not need to go out hunting. Just like a spider, she only has to wait for her prey to come willingly to her. Here, with the aid of a little inside knowledge, I could tell you that her walk may speak of ownership, but it shouts.
"Here I am boys! Come and get me if you think you are man enough!"
What of this soubriquet 'Madame Sylvie?'
She is not married, however she is of an age where strangers would address her as Madame as a common courtesy. But, to call her Mme. Sylvie, that was different and a little special. Not plain Sylvie or Mme de Bellecorps, always in the village she is called Mme Sylvie. This could merely be a hangover from the time when the peasantry would call their younger superiors by Monsieur, Madame, or Mademoiselle appended to their forenames, but those days have long since past.
A teacher perhaps?
Well, yes and no, as we shall see later. There is another class of woman who adopts the title of Madame, certain 'Professional Ladies.' No, neither was she a 'Professional Lady' - well not of that sort. Mme Sylvie earned her living as Sous-directrice, under manager, of one of the supermarkets in the nearby town. That soubriquet had been applied to her by some sharp-tongued gossip several years ago. It stuck and soon came into common usage within the commune of Puy Saint Martin.