THE LETTER

It's relaxing, sitting here, unnoticed by people drifting by.
      Pierre advised me that he required a serious model. He was bored with flirty girls and arrogant males. He needed character.
      Now is my reflective time. I refuse to feel guilty. This is my afternoon off. Faith and Francis are with their mother, Cecile.
      Events have taken an inevitable turn. Monsieur Jules is a rat. Not a love rat, he's too narcissistic to fall in love. I suppose it must have been Cecile's money he craved. Has played eager young things on many vacations. I can think of four assignations since my employment began. He suspected that I connected those absences with his affairs, but thought that a few Judas coins would stay me from informing his wife. Probably reasoned that the au pair/nanny would be so grateful for a job (and interesting holidays) that she would keep her counsel and knowledge
to herself.
      How could he know this plain Jane yearned and simultaneously despised him? I hinted at blackmail after the 4th seedy affair.
      'You stupid girl, just do the job you are paid for!' he snarled at me. 'let's have no more talk of informing Cecile. For one thing you will return to your old drab apartment and your old drab life. Also my children will blame you for splitting the family. You will regret ever opening that spiteful mouth!'
      I made my decision. Have written the letter denouncing him. The previous foolish yearning has been overtaken by my despising him. Cecile, a lady of ladylike rituals, will ensure the children are having their afternoon nap and pour herself a glass of wine. She will notice the letter beneath the dish of petit beurre biscuits...
      The painting is finished. Pierre smiles and our eyes meet. Jules is denounced and I am to live with Pierre in the artists' quarters. Maybe one day the picture of me shall be displayed in a gallery.