Chapter 45 Section 44

The Japanese, the Americans, the Spaniards, the Russians, all with cameras attached to their necks, got off the train.Let.Marc tries to get Chantal out of his sight.The wide crowd seemed to be condensed all of a sudden, and disappeared at the escalator under the platform.In the waiting room at the end of the escalator, a film crew rushed forward, followed by a bumbling mob.They blocked his way.Passengers disembarking from the train were forced to stop.There were cheers and shouts from the crowd as some children descended the side stairs.They were all wearing helmets, helmets of different colors, as if they were a sports team, a motorcycle or ski race team.They are the ones being photographed.Jean-Marc stood on tiptoe, trying to get above the heads of the crowd, looking for Chantal.Finally, he saw her.She was on the other side of the column of children; in a phone booth.She held the receiver to her ear and was talking.Let.Mark tried to carve his way out of the crowd.He pushes and fucks a guy with a camera around his neck.The man kicked him angrily.So Jean-Marc elbowed the man, just missing his camera.A guard pushes over, and he asks to let go.Mark couldn't leave until filming was over.Just then, Chantal stepped out of the phone booth.His eyes met Chantal's.Desperately, he tried to take over the crowd, but the guard clamped his arms tightly.Jean-Marc bent over in pain, and Chantal was out of his sight again.

The last kid in the helmet walked past, and the guard finally let him go, allowing him to leave.He looked at the phone booth, but it was empty.A group of Frenchmen, who he recognized as Chantal's colleagues, stopped beside him. "Where's Chantal?" he asked one of the girls. She replied in a reproachful tone, "You should know where she is. You signaled her, I saw it all, you ruined everything." Lyra's voice cut in: "Let's go!" "And what about Chantal?" the girl asked. "She knows the address." "This gentleman," said the elegant lady with rings all over her finger, "he is looking for her too."

Jean-Marc was sure that Laila had seen him as he had seen Laila. "Hello." "Hello," Lyra replied.He smiled. "I see you are arguing with people, one person against a group of people." Jean-Marc thought he heard some sympathy in the man's voice.It was like a helping hand reaching out to him in his pain.He wanted to catch it; it was like a spark that promised him for a moment friendship, friendship between two men.They did not know each other, but only out of a sudden mutual sympathy.They are ready to help each other.It was like a beautiful dream, coming to him.

He said confidently: "Can you tell me the name of the hotel you are staying in? I can call or just come and see if Chantal is there when I think of it." Laila was silent, and after a while he asked, "Didn't she tell you?" "No." "I'm sorry, then," he said kindly, almost regretfully, "I can't tell you that." The spark was snuffed out at once.Jean-Marc suddenly felt a dull pain in his shoulder where the guard had sprained him.He left the train station in despair.He didn't know where he was going, he just walked forward along the road.

As he walked, he took all his bills out of his pocket and counted them again.That was enough for a return ticket, but no more.If he has made up his mind, he can leave immediately.Tonight, he will be in Paris.Obviously, this is the most logical course of action.What can he do here?Can't do anything, but he still can't walk.He must not go.As long as Chantal is in London, he cannot leave here. But he also had to save money for a return ticket, so he couldn't stay in a hotel either.Where does he sleep then?Suddenly, he realized that what he had claimed about Chantal was finally vindicated: his deepest sense of purpose was to serve a marginalized person, to live comfortably, truly, but in a completely uncertain ad hoc environment. Anyone who can join either party.Suddenly, here he was himself again, he was back among the people he belonged to: among the poor people who had nothing but a roof over them.

He recalled his argument with Chantal.He had this naive idea of ​​wanting her to be right in front of him right away so he could say to her, look, I was right, I didn't lie to you, that's exactly who I am, an insignificant, insignificant Homeless beggars.