The Friend

The friend

When I say I have known her for half a score or so years, I mean I have an acquaintance with her - I do not know her, and I doubt that anyone does. Not really...not to know her soul, if we can claim that of anyone we meet in life.

No, she is not really strange, just close. And closed, like a journal sealed by its owner - so much inside we wish to discover but it is not permitted. Yes, I think you could say she is secretive, but not in a deceptive way, more that she cannot reveal more of herself than the little glimpses you catch by accident , almost.

Good company? Oh, I should say so, she can make a room come alive with her charm - to say nothing of her beauty. She can be so sweet to us, the girls of the shadows and the half light of the theatres, the dance halls and the bars, almost as if she were one of us, which of course, she is not - she is a thing apart and always has been.

I would say I am one of those closest to her but I hardly can claim intimacy to her secrets. I know where she was born, and when and that she has parents, a mother still living. She had a brother who was killed,  sisters who both married and a grandfather who died. Funny, but I think she almost envied them, those who had passed over - I don’t know why I should think that, but I do. She sees them, but I believe her mother writes to her - it would be fair to suppose she writes back, she’s like that. 

When I first got to know her she was more fun - a real party girl - but then the joy died in her and it was as if a light went out. She became more beautiful, her clothes more exquisite and her tastes more refined, but she lost her way. Oh, she was still as funny, as witty and as desirable but those of us who knew her well could see it, see her fading inside. Becoming spectral.

I’m not sure what else I can tell you - she is very popular, she has money and so many admirers who are devoted to her. Like a pack of little dogs, the hounds of Severine we call them, running after her, just to get a smile, a wave, a few words. We see less of her, now she is wealthy, but she is still friendly when we meet. I saw her in a cafe just last week, and she was as sweet as ever. I thought she looked tired though - around those lovely eyes there was the beginning of age and she sighed more than she used to, despite her beautiful dress and expensive jewellery. I used to envy her, be so jealous of her looks, her lovers and her life. Not now. She is so sad.....