“Damn it! Damn it! Where the hell are they?" Crash.
As a way to wake up, this was worse than an alarm clock but better than having a bucket of cold water dumped on my head. Next to me, Minou yawned and looked offended, I blinked groggily at my clock. Ten a.m. Another restless night had led me to sleep in.
But what was Axelle doing up so suspiciously early?
"They were right here? she shrieked from the living room.
I pulled on some gym shorts and cautiously made my way out to the main room, Axelle had torn the place apart-sofa cushions on the floor, a table overturned, the basket of kindling by the fireplace knocked over. Newspapers, magazines, and clothes were strewn everywhere.
In short, the place was even more of a wreck than usual, and guess who was the only person who would care enough to clean it up?
Still shouting, Axelle picked up my French-English dictionary and heaved it across the room. It smacked the opposite wall with force, which showed me that the door to the secret room was wide open, as if the search had started up there and spilled over into the secular area of the apartment,
"Hey!" I cried, hurrying over to get the book. "That's mine!"
Axelle looked up at me, wild-eyed. I'd never seen her so wiggy — usually she moved at a slinky, feline saunter, summoning energy only to decide what shoes went with which purse. But now she looked like shed been up for hours, and even her characteristic silky, shiny black bob was totally mussed,
"What's wrong?" I asked. "What are you looking for?"
"My cups!" she shrieked, grabbing handfuls of her hair, as if to keep a tenuous grip on her sanity, "Family heirlooms!"
I looked around, trying to remember whether I'd seen anything like that, "Were they silver, or crystal, or what?"
"They were wood? Axelle cried, distraught, "Carved cypress! They're invaluable! I mean, for personal reasons! This is a disaster?
"Wooden cups?" I felt a sense of dread come over me, "How many?" I already knew.
"Four!" Axelle cried, looking near tears, "Four wooden cups!" Then she seemed to catch something in my voice and looked up, her black eyes locking on me like lasers. "Why? Have you seen them? Four wooden cups:
"Uh-"I froze like a frightened rabbit.
Axelle's eyes narrowed, and then she rushed past me into my room. I saw my pillow fly out into the hall, heard her sweep all my stuff off my desk Minou raced out of my room and disappeared, I clenched my hands at my sides, and then Axelle tore into my small bathroom.
Her howl was a mixture of relief, rage, and triumph.
Head bowed, dreading the inevitable, I shuffled toward the bathroom, Axelle was holding her carved wooden cups-the cups that had seemed so old and battered I was sure no one would miss them from the living room armoire. Her face glowed with intense emotion as she stared at the one that held cotton swabs, the one that held cotton balls…,
When she spoke, her voice was low and trembling, "These four cups are the most valuable things you'll ever see in your whole life. If you had ruined them-"
There was nothing I could say, I hadn't known. If they were so valuable, why weren't they upstairs in the locked room? I mean, they weren't much to look at- just four old wooden cups.
With great effort, Axelle seemed to get herself under control, "From now on, ask if you borrow anything of mine.
This was much more reasonable than she usually was, and I nodded, embarrassed. She swept out of the bathroom, having dumped the cups' contents onto the floor, and then I heard her heading upstairs,
I sank down onto the closed toilet lid, my head in my hands. What a way to start a Sunday, I needed to get out of here. After all the emotion last night with Luc, I felt self-conscious about going to the garden to find him, like I needed to give us both a little time and space, I was also still burning to see Clio and Petra, get some more questions answered, spend time with them, I got up and headed for the phone.