We went on seeing each other despite the obvious rift that my faux pas had created. In fact we only talked about it once, the day after the rough and unsettling incident. At the Sélect, over banana splits, like teenagers with a serious problem to solve.

Gilbert proved to be understanding, he actually thanked me for my good intentions and generosity – all of this while pointing out, with a sensitivity close to that which he showed when we made love, that I’d got mixed up in something that was none of my business and he didn’t want it to happen again. I reassured him: I’d learned a lesson, never again would I venture onto the avenues of his life where I did not feel welcome, from now on I would respect his secret gardens, act as if he no longer existed when he disappeared from my field of vision. He thought my images were entertaining and shook his head, saying that he’d finally found someone with a more tragic view of life than his. “There are other reasons why I want to keep you in my life, Céline Poulin, you know what they are, but that one, I confess, is one of the most important. You’re a bigger drama queen than I am, but you at least find solutions to your problems.”

I pointed out that the one I’d tried to implement the night before was far from the right one and he deigned to smile. A dinky little sad smile.

“Please, Céline, let’s not talk abut it again. Ever. And go on wanting to solve your own problems, not other people’s.”

I didn’t dare ask if he intended to see Greta again or if he’d accept another invitation from me; I knew the answer. Consequently, in future I would keep the two parts of my life separate, impervious: on one side, my work, my customers, my apartment, its inhabitants; on the other side, Gilbert and his extreme pleasures. And his many problems. I didn’t want to lose him and I thought that the price to pay for keeping him – secrecy, discretion – was not too high. For now. If things got complicated though, because of his illness or for any other reason, I would reconsider my options, as they say, and I would make the right decision. I didn’t want to be alone and I loved Gilbert very much, but I wanted to avoid undue suffering. Be concerned about him, about his health, help him during his bad patches, yes, certainly, but let love turn me into the slave of a sick man, of his episodes, his moods – no way. For a while I would have to negotiate a tightrope, watch where I set my feet, curb my emotions. As usual, for that matter. But differently. This time, with a love as well as my own small person to protect.

I had really put my foot in it when I tried to do a favour, it had nearly cost me an exorbitant amount, now I had to play the card of caution.

When we were together it was still as wonderful, with colourful conversations, endless, passionate nights of love, but I sometimes caught in Gilbert’s eyes not doubt, I don’t think he doubted my feelings for him, but a kind of hesitation, as if a tiny shred of his confidence in my judgment had taken off on that ill-fated night in May when I’d tried to reunite him and Greta and now he was wondering if once again and despite my promise not to, I was going to get mixed up in something that was none of my business and end up making some blunder that couldn’t be undone. I didn’t dare reassure him. I behaved more lovingly, something I had no trouble doing, I tried to make him laugh when I felt a wave of depression crash onto him, or bring him down from him his high when his delusions of grandeur overcame him and he thought he was stronger than anything.

It was much easier for me to get around his episodes, to be discreet when necessary, and present if I sensed that he needed me. I was no longer afraid of the excessive states in which his illness plunged him, while he continued to warn me, as he’d done on that second morning when he felt swamped by irresistibly powerful anguish.

The fall was all the more painful then because I hadn’t seen it coming. No, I had seen it coming, but I couldn’t interpret it quickly enough to avoid it.

It happened in two moments, two incidents around the show that Gilbert was rehearsing at the Théâtre de Quat’Sous.