Lullaby - Leila Slimani Page 0,11

the oak table, so heavy that they’d never moved it since their arrival, had been pushed to the other side of the room.

‘But who moved the furniture? Did Paul help you?’

‘No,’ Louise replies. ‘I did all that myself.’

Myriam, incredulous, wants to laugh. It must be a joke, she thinks, observing the nanny’s match-thin arms. Then she remembers that she has already been taken aback by Louise’s strength. Once or twice, she was impressed by the way she picked up heavy, bulky parcels while carrying Adam in her arms. Concealed behind that frail, narrow physique, Louise has the power of a colossus.

All morning Louise blew up balloons, twisted them into the shapes of animals and stuck them all over the apartment, from the entrance hall to the kitchen drawers. She made the birthday cake herself, an enormous red fruit charlotte covered with decorations.

Myriam regrets having taken the afternoon off. She would have been so much happier in the calm of her office. Her daughter’s birthday party makes her anxious. She is afraid that the other children will be bored, impatient. She doesn’t want to have to deal with the ones who fight or console the ones whose parents are late to pick them up. Chilling memories of her own childhood come back to her. She sees herself on a thick, white wool carpet, isolated from the group of little girls playing with a doll’s tea set. She had let a piece of chocolate melt on the carpet and then she’d tried to hide her misdeed, which had only made things worse. Her host’s mother had told her off in front of everyone.

Myriam holes up in her bedroom, closing the door and pretending to be absorbed in reading her emails. She knows that, as always, she can depend on Louise. The doorbell starts to ring. The living room swells with the noise of children. Louise has put music on. Myriam sneaks out of her room and watches the little guests, massed around the nanny. They spin around her, completely captivated. She has prepared songs and magic tricks. She disguises herself as they watch in disbelief and the children, who are not at all easy to deceive, know that she is one of their own. She is there, vibrant, joyful, teasing. She hums songs, makes animal noises. She even carries Mila and one of her friends on her back, and the other kids laugh until they cry, begging her to let them take part in the rodeo as well.

Myriam admires this ability that Louise has to really play. When she plays, she is animated by that omnipotence that only children possess. One evening, coming home, Myriam finds Louise lying on the floor, her face painted. On her cheeks and forehead are the thick black lines of a warrior’s mask. She has made an Indian headdress out of crêpe paper. In the middle of the living room she has built a misshapen tepee out of a sheet, a broomstick and a chair. Standing in the half-open doorway, Myriam feels troubled. She watches Louise as she twists her body and makes wild noises, and she is horribly embarrassed. The nanny looks like she’s drunk. That is the first thought that comes to mind. Seeing Myriam there, Louise stands up, red-faced and staggering. ‘I’ve got pins and needles,’ she explains. Adam is clinging to her calf and Louise laughs, with a laugh that still belongs to the imaginary world in which their game is taking place.

Perhaps, Myriam reassures herself, Louise is simply a child too. She takes very seriously the games she plays with Mila. For example, if they play cops and robbers, Louise lets herself be locked up behind invisible bars. Sometimes she plays the forces of law and order and runs after Mila. Each time, she invents a precise geography that Mila has to memorise. She creates costumes and develops a scenario filled with plot twists. She prepares the set with meticulous care. Occasionally the little girl gets tired of this. ‘Come on, let’s start!’ she begs.

Myriam doesn’t know this, but Louise’s favourite game is hide-and-seek. Except that nobody counts and there are no rules. The game is based on the element of surprise. Without warning, Louise disappears. She nestles in a corner and lets the children search for her. She often chooses hiding places where she can continue to observe them. She hides under the bed or behind a door and doesn’t move. She holds her breath.

And so Mila understands that the game