Book #1: Suzy's Dream (Chapter 1 - Part 1)

SUZY’S DREAM

 

Chapter 1

 

A brisk breath of air whisked through the branches of the lime trees shading the sandy space of the tennis court. A few yellow leaves fluttered down, cutting golden spots against the blue-hued horizon. While sitting nonchalantly in her garden armchair, young Madame de Berly glanced through a magazine. She shuddered a little, and, with a chilled gesture, clasped the fine woolen shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She raised her head, and her gaze fell on the tennis players. They did not seem to suspect that the end of this day in September, beautiful as it was, had a sudden coolness that announced the approach of inclement days to come.

“Are you almost finished?” Mme. de Berly asked with her usual tone of indifference. “It's half-past four and it’s starting to get cold.” 

A burst of laughter, cries and shrieks, interspersed with the ups and downs of the game, answered her question.

“Cold, Marthe? Why didn't you want to play with us? Is it because it's the heat you'd complain about, then?”

“Careful! Mademoiselle Suzanne, it’s to you. Step back... Good!”

“Yes! Thirty to thirty.”

“We will win!” Suzanne beamed at her partner, Georges de Flers, a handsome young man of twenty-eight or thirty years of age, thin and fair, and extremely distinguished in his white woolen outfit.

“I hope so. When we’re allies, I feel capable of accomplishing wonders," he said smiling, his eyes fixed on the bullet that came at him. He performed a clever arc, his arm slicing through the blue of the sky.

“An advantage for us!” Suzanne exclaimed, her brown eyes sparkling with pleasure.

Then, quite unexpectedly, a fortunate lob raised the stakes of the other side where Madame de Berly's sister, Germaine Arnay, valiantly defended herself in the company of her brother-in-law. He was a semi-skillful player, who devoted himself to lawn-tennis as a hygienic measure and considered this exercise a preventative to weight gain.

The game continued, hotly contested, for Suzanne was an intense adversary to her cousin Germaine.

At one point, Suzy tossed aside her great straw hat, freeing herself. The wind ruffled stray locks of hair wandering around her dazzling fresh face and flame-warmed cheeks. During the action of the game, the swiftness of her pace had loosened the thick twist of her wavy, supple, brown hair. She freed it from the nape of her neck and held it high away from her skin. Her other hand nervously clung tight to the racket, which she lowered and raised, her waist suddenly arching back for the hit. From her whole being there was an intense impression of young life, as she ran here and there, carried away by the movements of the ball. A slight tightness limned her lips when success was doubtful, and joy lit up her eyes when she succeeded.

“Advantages everywhere!” cried Germaine. “Suzy, pay attention. We're going to beat you!”

“Monsieur de Flers, this is your last volley. Apply yourself, I beg you. We absolutely must win,” Suzanne replied. She followed her partner's game with a keen interest.

One last time the ball was served. Amid anxious and triumphant yells, the ball bounced two or three times from one player to the next, until finally rolling to a stop at the feet of Germaine, whose racket had only brushed against it.

Suzy gave a cry of joy. 

“We won!” she said, delighted.

With a breathless part to her lips, she brought her two cool hands to her burning cheeks, where blood flushed her white skin.

“Are you pleased with me?” asked Georges de Flers, with his gaze fixed on Suzy’s young face. “And will I be adequately rewarded for my skillful efforts?”

An expression of mischief slipped into Suzy's eyes.

“Yes, I am very pleased. Really, you are on your way to becoming a distinguished player. From now on, I will always accept you on my side. At least until I leave,” she corrected. A slight sigh of regret underlined her words.

“Are you really leaving us? And in two or three days, as you said yesterday at dinner?” 

With a sensible air, she nodded, flattered in the depths of her heart by Georges de Flers’s interested tone, who was himself a celebrity in the very elegant and Parisian sphere in which he moved. Suzanne had an instinctive need to feel sought or loved, which is why she displayed an unintentional and naïve flirtation.

“Yes, I will leave next Monday. I've been here for three weeks! I must go back home, since everyone is waiting for me. Maman, especially.”

Suzy’s voice took on a gentle intonation when she said the word maman. Just the sound of it vibrated with tenderness on her lips. The absence of her mother was the only shadow that disturbed the pleasure she felt at Madame Arnay’s. Like a child, Suzy enjoyed the worldly and joyous existence led at Le Castel, which contrasted with the essential simplicity of her ordinary life.

“Has it really been three weeks since you arrived?” Georges continued. “Time flies so fast. You must stay a few days longer, out of kindness, if only to teach me to be as strong as you are at tennis?”

 She shook her head, as a smile formed on her lips.

“You are on such a good track that any teacher would be useless," Suzy said, going to meet Germaine. 

End of Part 1

Le rêve de Suzy is in the public domain. All original additions, including translations, illustrations and chapter summaries, are copyright © 2025 by Marriah K. Nissen and may not be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. All rights reserved.