Coraline woke up in a soft fog with the impression of having the chance to drift out of time. His body was heavy and comfortable. A few hours before, his soul was stuck in a narrow and painful carnal envelope. She had slept without dreams and nightmares. She wondered for a moment where she was and why she had gone to bed fully clothed.
When she emerged completely from sleep, her memories of the previous day came back to her: the meal, the chouchen, her tears and confession and finally her tender arms that reassured her.
She got up, stripped naked, and went into the bathroom. Her mascara had flowed before her eyes, so she decided to remove her makeup. She took the suitcase and placed it wide open on her bed, the clothes flew across the room, until their owner found the small blue and white kit, in which she found her makeup remover after plunging her hand into it.
After a brief stint in front of the mirror to clean her face, she began to take a shower.
Water flowed over his body and bare skin. Suddenly, Coraline's gaze stopped on her wrists. The scars on them became clearer as the days went by.
The pain in his chest and his malaise choked him again. Her wrists were burning, as if her blood had to gush out to free herself... Dark thoughts made him want to hurt himself. She had run away from them and they had found her. She fell to her knees, her mind again consumed by sadness and pain.
An engine noise roused her from the torpor into which she had sunk. A car door slammed.
She got out of the shower and grabbed some clothes that had flown to the bathroom door.
The steps creaked and the footsteps approached the door.
A familiar face appeared at the window. Coraline, seeing him, felt her heart lighten. She came to open it to him.
Yannick held a white plastic bag in his hand, he brought him croissants.
"Did you bring me some couques for breakfast? How nice. I'm going to make some coffee. You want some? She thanked him, taking the bag from his hands and pushing him to a chair.
Yannick had a questioning pout. "Remind me what the word 'couque' means, please."
"It's pastries. I have to get back into the habit of speaking the French of France and not that of Belgium. Sorry. " she apologized as she started the coffee machine.
Yannick looked at her, smiling. "I really like the poetry of Belgian expressions. I didn't have the chance to hear all the nuances and all its melodies. So be a little patient and I'll all understand what your lips tell me."
Coraline burst out laughing while her cheeks were rosy from the allusion. « From what I hear, Mr. Professor, known and recognized throughout the world, lets go. »
Yannick's closed point met violently and noisily the table. "I'm tired of being defined just a scholar who lives only in his books. I also have emotions. Apart from admiration or envy in the eyes of the people I meet, there is nothing and all they are interested in is my knowledge. I could be a learned monkey, it wouldn't change anything. The only person who was interested in who I really am was you. " he finally said, softening himself.
Her gaze had become so soft that Coraline was moved and had to look away. She could see the drops of coffee dripping from the percolator into the cups one by one.
After a few seconds, she apologized for hurting him, explaining that she wanted to make a touch of humor.
They took their cup to drink on the terrace.
A patch of grass then rocks and the sea... That's all Coraline saw while drinking her cup of coffee on the terrace of the little house. The sky and the sea were of all the colors of the sun. A sailboat, whose spinner was hoisted and inflated in the wind, sped on the horizon line and then it veered and disappeared behind it. The wind sang and carried to its ears the melody of the waves.
This agreement was so beautiful that it acted as a curse imposing silence on every living being who heard it.
A gust of wind stronger than another made the young woman shiver. Yannick put his arm around his pale, bare shoulders.
The counter-spell came from Yannick's trouser pocket, to the tune of Mozart's Queen of the Night. He withdrew his arm and picked up his phone bitterly.
Yannick made a sign to make Coraline understand that it might take time.
Coraline then decided to go down to the beach. His steps marked the sand with his footprints alone. Arriving at the water's edge, she slid her feet into the water. The freshness on his ankles sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine.
She took off her pants and shirt, then in her underwear, she plunged. After a few minutes in the water, she decided to do the board and got lost in the huge sky.
A slight change in the current made her stand up and see someone approaching her. It was her teacher whose phone call was over and who had also shed her costume and was diving into underpants to join her.
He hugged her, then gently stroked Coraline's face with his left hand. The bodies molded against each other, their mouths mingled, searched, learned ...
Coraline detached herself, screaming disgusted and anguished: "An icy thing brushed me underwater."
At the same moment, a fluorescent yellow mass rose to the surface accompanied by some noisy bubbles.
Coraline lost consciousness. Yannick narrowly caught her and dropped her on the beach. Once Coraline was safe, he plunged back to bring the body back to the bank.
Coraline slowly came to her senses and approached the body and saw her skin turn blue, her neon yellow raincoat. He was barefoot. In her right hand, she distinguished golden and coppery threads mixed with green algae. The man's blue eyes were wide and his mouth wide open.
He was a tall man, with an imposing build, his short and scattered hair was blond. Suddenly, while she was detailing it, without her expecting it, a small crab came out of the victim's throat and mouth and slid down his cheek. Coraline walked away and vomited what little coffee she had been able to drink since waking up. Yannick had moved away to call the police using his mobile phone. When he returned, he saw poor Coraline, completely exhausted, trembling with all her limbs until she could no longer stand. He invited her to sit a little apart and quickly went to get her a blanket to cover her.
When the police arrived and after he had been talking to them for a few minutes, he carried her to her small house, climbed the stairs and forced her into the shower. He turned on the water and walked out of the bathroom.
Coraline let the hot water run over her head.
His skin was regaining some color. His body warmed up slowly.
When she came out of the bathroom, a towel around her, Yannick had made hot coffee again and had warmed the croissants. This smell reassured her. She picked up some clothes she hadn't yet been able to put away and returned to the bathroom to get dressed. She pulled her long brown hair up into a high ponytail.
Coraline looked at his face. His eyes were bloodshot and a vein had burst in his left eye. His cheeks were dotted with small red dots. Since childhood, this was the effect that vomiting had on his face.
Yannick called her to come and drink a strong coffee. After two long sips, someone came knocking on the door.
A lady with short black hair, dressed in a gray suit and strict but very attractive, wearing beautiful shiny black pumps, Commissioner Joana Bernst, came in and asked them questions. "What's your name? At what time did you discover the body? Have you changed the position of the body? ».
Yannick and Coraline answered calmly. The inspector took note of their testimony. Then, she asked them to come and sign them the next day when the shock had dispersed a little.
"This is probably a fisherman who fell into the water during Tuesday's storm. It corresponds to the description of a missing person. We had been looking for him for two days. »
Finally, she stood up and thanked them. The inspector gave one of her cards to the teacher and walked out of the hut.
Coraline stood up and rested her forehead against the glass. All the cars, vans and ambulances had disappeared from the beach and the back road. On the beach that only his steps had marked were now full of holes, banners,...
The tranquility of the place had turned into chaos.
Yannick's hands had rested gently on Coraline's shoulders. The clock on the wall that punctuated life with his reassuring ticking rang 3 p.m.
"Tonight, to clear your mind, I'm taking you to a waterfront restaurant. I just have to be away for two hours at the University of Brest. They need me there, concerning documents to fill out for my next conference on the role of Anne of Brittany on French culture. I'll leave the details to you. Rest a little. »
He agreed. Who could have refused when such a form was put on it.
It had started pouring rain. Coraline took her coat and ran to the car.
Yannick while driving had turned on the radio on a station with lots of traditional songs. We heard veuze, biniou and bombarde but also violins and clarinet. It was a special afternoon with only sailors' songs.
Thanks to the sounds, the young woman fell asleep from a sleep filled with nightmares in which she saw the man on the beach being swallowed by the waves.
She woke up when the car parked in the designated square for the 4x4 and its owner.
Yannick got out of the car and gave the keys to Coraline, saying: "Go for a walk if the weather clears. I have 20 minutes. »
Alone in this car, hit by the wind and rain, Coraline looked for an occupation and found it in a pile of books in the back seat.
Among books on the legends and history of Brittany, a tourist guide caught his attention. On some pages, post-it notes included comments like "interesting, too long, completely wrong, only in good weather, ... " and sometimes these were combined.
Yannick had identified all the places Coraline could or would like to visit. A few moments later, he came back soaked and returning to Plozévet, he stopped in front of his apartment to get some clothes. He did not invite Coraline to ride with him, which surprised the young woman.
On the way back, he told her about the wonderful restaurant they were going to eat in. The place belonged to a childhood friend, who after having been doing his culinary apprenticeship in the greatest starred restaurants in Paris, had returned to his hometown where he had bought a small restaurant. This one was recognized by gourmets as the best in Brittany.
Arriving in front of the little blue house, Coraline knew the entire menu, from starters to desserts, including the best wines.
She quickly put on a blue dress, jumped into her blue pumps too and surrounded herself with a huge white shawl. She re-dusted her nose and came out just as fast as she had entered. Yannick had changed in the car and restarted the engine. She got back in the car and they literally flew to the restaurant.
The restaurant was 15 meters from the water a little high.
To reach it, you had to follow on foot a small path that crossed the dunes. The sand of the path was covered with wooden planks. A few torches illuminated the way forward and in the distance a house with the door and windows lit. When they arrived, a man at the door was waiting for them and rushed to greet them.
The meal had been gargantuan. They had chosen to take a menu. They ate a cotriade then a lobster à la bretonne followed by a dessert composed of a part of far breton, a pancake with salted caramel, a scoop of ice cream with Breton galette and a light coulis of pears and strawberries.
Yannick had chosen white wines that went perfectly with the dishes. Full and relaxed, they returned to the little blue house.
He then took her home to her door. "I'll pick you up tomorrow morning around 7:30 a.m. to do some shopping. Rest well. »
Coraline waited for the car to disappear and returned home, locking the door. She poured herself a glass of chouchen and drank it in one go as she undressed. She looked at the sea one last time and slipped under the sheets, completely naked.
Weighed down by the alcohol and delicious food she had been served, Coraline sank into a sleep without dreams or nightmares. Her body became light, so light that it seemed to her that she was only air and floating.