Paris: The Novel

ear.
    “Keep still, you fool. I need to talk to you.” Then the grip relaxed,and he turned to face the burly figure of Jean Compagnon. “Stay in the shadow,” the foreman said, so Thomas stepped into the gateway.
    “Couldn’t you have met me in a bar?” Thomas asked, having recovered himself.
    “Bad idea. Never know who might see you. The men already think you may be a stool pigeon.”
    “But I’m not.”
    “That’s not the point. It was brave, what you did today. Took me by surprise. But now you’ve got to be careful.”
    “You mean Éric might push me off the tower?”
    “No. Not unless you annoy him. You were quite useful to him today, you know. You provided a focus. Anyone who thought of disagreeing with him would be pointed at as one of your friends. A stool pigeon of Eiffel’s. That suits Éric very well.”
    “The son of a bitch.”
    “That’s politics. Éric won’t hurt you, but one of the men might. You never know.”
    “What do I do?”
    “Nothing. Keep your mouth shut and your eyes open. I’ve enough troubles without having to look out for you all the time. I did that once already.”
    Thomas was silent for a moment. Was Compagnon letting him know that he’d noticed him that day he’d panicked when he’d looked down in the early days of the tower’s building? Probably.
    “What’s going to happen about the strike?” he asked.
    “Eiffel’s furious. But Éric’s right. He’ll have to settle. It’ll take a day or two.”
    “Won’t Éric just do it again?”
    “I don’t think so.”
    “How can you be sure?”
    “I’ll make sure. Now, lad, I’ve got a home to go to. Are you going to keep your mouth shut?”
    “Yes.”
    “Don’t talk to me. Don’t talk to Eiffel. Keep your head down. Now beat it.”
    So Thomas walked up the rue de la Pompe. He supposed Jean Compagnon stayed in the shadows for a while. He didn’t look back.

    The bargaining lasted three days. In the end, the men were given a bonus that would reach an extra four centimes a day. They were given waterproofs, and sheepskin clothes, and mulled wine to warm them up. Eiffel also set up a canteen on the first platform.
    The men went back to work. Although Thomas was aware that he was regarded with suspicion, nobody gave him any trouble. During the month of October, the tower rose rapidly.
    Thomas saw Édith regularly now. One Saturday night they went out with Pepe and his friend Anna, a pleasant, round-faced Italian girl, who took them to a little place that served Italian food, which neither Thomas nor Édith had ever eaten before. It was a good evening. He discovered that Pepe had a good voice and liked to sing Neapolitan songs.
    Thomas would often kiss Édith. But so far at least, he had never had the chance to use the
capotes anglaises
that he sometimes secreted in his pocket. For Édith would never let him go all the way.
    They went to see her aunt again. This time Édith’s mother was not there. Aunt Adeline probably wasn’t overjoyed to see him, but she didn’t show it. Monsieur Ney, however, chancing to look in again, welcomed Thomas politely and urged him, “Next time you visit, young man, do not forget to bring your little brother.”
    So when, halfway through November, he and Édith agreed to meet the following Sunday at her aunt’s, he told her: “Say to Monsieur Ney that I will bring Luc with me.”

    On Sunday, he met Luc near the Arc de Triomphe. As they walked down the avenue de la Grande-Armée, Luc was in a cheerful mood.
    “I don’t know why Ney wants to see you,” Thomas admitted. “But I thought I’d better not disappoint him.”
    “He has no particular reason,” Luc assured him. “Do you remember the giant squid that attacked the submarine in
Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea
?” One didn’t need to have read Jules Verne’s classic tale to remember the giant squid. Popular illustrations had made highlights of the story familiar to almost every child in France. “People like this
notaire
spread their tentacles out to catch anything they can. If he thinks it’s possibleI might be of use to him one day, he’ll want to get one of his tentacles around me, that’s all.”
    “How would you be of use to him?” Thomas asked.
    “Who knows? I’m just a young fellow who does things for people, and I don’t ask questions. That’s all he needs to know.” Luc smiled. “He’s right. I might do something for him one day. As long as he pays me.”
    “If you say so,