to become more involved in my hunting club.”
Hubert is speaking of an equestrian hunting team. She knows that he hunts stag and wild boar regularly in the nearby Amboise forest and that hunting with a pack of hounds is his passion.
“You’ll see one day, Héloïse, that ‘we spend our lives trying to realize the dreams we had as children.’2 It is now time for me to realize my own dream. For the last two years, I’ve been getting ready for my retirement. I only work an average of four days out of seven so that in the winter I can go hunting twice a week. In fact, this year I will need to work no more than three days a week, in order to provide more support to the hunt mistress, who is retiring and getting ready to ‘pass the whip’ to me. Your father knew this and never had any objections. Hound training starts again at the end of the month, and there are a number of young hunters who have just joined our team. I want to be there to welcome them, show them the hunting traditions, and start teaching them right away the proper respect for the forest and for animals.”
Hubert can see that Héloïse is growing even paler. Nonetheless, he carries on. He wants to tell her everything.
“Héloïse, I feel about hunting as you feel about music. When everyone is together on a hunting day, whatever our backgrounds or circumstances, we’re there to partake in a ritual that is ... sacred. Our movements have a spirit. What we do has a purpose. The large animals we hunt have no natural predators. If we left the forest to them, they’d destroy it and themselves at the same time. When the hunt is carried out as it should be, and when the stag is put at bay according to the hunting rules, it isn’t just the hounds that get a reward. The hunters, the followers, and the animals, we all share the beauty of the forest, and I believe in this way we maintain it for future generations. Each of us has a role to play, and each person involved understands the importance of it. It’s no accident that hunting with hounds now more than ever attracts people from all walks of life. In hunting, they find exactly what is missing from this company’s corporate culture—namely the joy and pride of accomplishing something meaningful together according to a tradition grounded in nature. This company has lost its soul. You need to hand it over to someone who knows how to get it back. I’m not that person, Héloïse. Not anymore.”
A long silence ensues. Héloïse and Hubert look at each other and, leaning toward one another, their minds seem to connect. Finally Héloïse speaks. “Well, I guess I’ll need to look for someone to buy the company ... or perhaps an employee to run it. But what if Thierry Ambi comes back?”
“Thierry Ambi isn’t coming back. He’s disappeared as suddenly as he arrived. At exactly the wrong time.”
“What are you trying to say? What do you know, Hubert? Tell me everything.”
“I can’t prove anything. But you must know that your father brought him into the company for reasons he didn’t want to tell me, and which didn’t seem to match Thierry’s own motivation. Your father knew things weren’t going well with the business, and ever since his heart attack two years ago he’d been looking for a successor. But, at the same time, he couldn’t afford to pay that kind of money. Therefore, when he hired Thierry Ambi, there must have been some sort of other compensation offered. In my opinion, this explains why Thierry Ambi left his previous company so suddenly. Then, once your father was no longer around to offer him whatever that compensation was, Thierry Ambi dropped us.”
“He was working in a company that made kitchen furniture, wasn’t he?”
“Yes. But barely a month after he met your father at the trade show, even though he lived in the Vosges, on the other side of France, here he suddenly was in Tours: baggage, family, everything. And then soon afterward, seemingly by chance, your father asked Roger to move out of his office. Each of the supervisors had his own office in a small prefabricated shed. He moved Roger on the pretext of naming him head of quality control for both workshops. Then your father changed the locks and shaded the windows of this shed. It really started people talking! The workers all nicknamed it ‘the coop’—like a chicken coop. Roger had to set himself up somehow at a little open table in his wood shop. That didn’t help his relationship with Jean-Marc, I can assure you!”
Hubert pauses for a moment and then, ignoring Héloïse’s somewhat annoyed look, he carries on. “Believe me, it’s a small world. This kitchen furniture manufacturer uses the same transport company that we use to ship Collectivité products. The employees of all three companies, who have known each other for years over the phone, never miss out on an opportunity to pass on gossip. It seems that Thierry’s former boss was getting ready to sue him. If you ask me, Thierry’s disappearance is more than a little bit shady. And to think he never even came to your father’s funeral!”
Héloïse sits thoughtfully for a moment and then bursts out, “So then, in your opinion, someone else should run the company?”
“Yes. You need to bring in some fresh blood. Someone who can really motivate the employees. And you need to do it soon. You can see how terrible our profits are. We’re certainly going to end the year in the red, what with this Catamer disaster. The only thing I can really do now is hit the road again to drum up new customers. It’s ten times harder and more expensive than retaining the loyalty of old customers, but it would be better for the company if I focused exclusively on this task.
“The best thing to do is to convince your mother and grandmother, as shareholders, to sell the business. And know that you can trust Georgette. Your father never even thought to give her a parking space out front, but you’ll never find someone more meticulous than she is when it comes to protecting the interests of the company. And this way, you can return to your music. It’s your passion, after all.”
Héloïse sits pensively. Then, glancing at her watch, she gasps. It is 11:30. She is going to be late for her meeting at the conservatory.
“Hubert, could you go over these papers with Georgette? I’ll be seeing my mother when she comes back on Saturday and then visiting my grandmother in Paris for the rest of the weekend. I’ll tell you what we’ve decided on Monday.”
She rises quickly, and leaves Hubert sitting there looking deflated and somber.
MONDAY. 10 A.M. Héloïse is once again on the way to the factory, but this time she takes the main road, the one that doesn’t snake along the hillside. She has also set out later this morning because she wants everything to go differently than the previous week. She secretly hopes she will find Thierry’s car in the parking lot when she gets there.
She has had a trying weekend. She and her mother spoke more that Saturday than they had in the past fifteen years. It was as though her mother was becoming a different person. They met at her place just after she returned from the health spa. Her relaxed, serene expression encouraged Héloïse to tell her everything that was going on with the company. Her mother listened coolly, and had only one response.
“Do whatever you want with the company, Héloïse. It was your father’s, and now it’s up to you to decide what’s best. You mustn’t feel that you owe anything to your parents. Today, as they say, is the first day of the rest of your life.”
Héloïse sat speechless at this. Juliette served the tea and, in a calm voice as though she were speaking of someone else, proceeded to tell her daughter about how life had been with her husband with the company between them. How being able to spend twenty-four hours a day by her husband’s side had seemed like a blessing during the early years of their marriage. She had quit playing the piano to become his accountant and had felt no regrets. The logic of numbers had quickly replaced scales and chord patterns in her affections. Then Héloïse
