This is Life Read Online Free Page B

more. It was a small stone, after all, and she hadn’t thought for a moment that any of the people going past would be looking to the sky, like the baby.
    ‘And what was next? Once you had blinded a random passer-by, or given them brain damage? What was next for your art project?’
    ‘I was going to rush over to them and explain my idea.’
    ‘I’m sure they would have been dying to hear about it. In fact, why am I standing in the way of your assignment? Here he is. Here’s your random passer-by. Introduce yourself,
and tell him all about it.’ She pointed at the baby, who had calmed down and was sitting in his buggy looking melancholy. ‘Go on.’
    Aurélie hesitated for a moment, then crouched to his level. She felt she owed him at least this much. ‘Hello,’ she said. ‘I’m Aurélie. Aurélie
Renard. I’m the one who threw the stone at you. I’m really sorry about that.’ She reached out and tentatively touched the baby’s shoulder.
    ‘Don’t touch him.’
    Aurélie withdrew her hand and lowered her eyes. ‘No,’ she said. ‘Of course not.’ She addressed the baby again. ‘As I said, I’m sorry. With hindsight I
can see it was a mistake – I should have used a different random selection process. What I was supposed to do was make you my subject for one week. I was hoping you would grant me permission
to follow you around and take photos of you, and make short films and draw pictures of you. That sort of thing. It was going to be a depiction of everyday life. Your everyday life. The
randomness of throwing a stone into a crowd was going to stop it from being a premeditated selection, and retain the purity of the . . .’ She couldn’t go on. She sounded so stupid.
There was nothing good about this idea. She looked at the mark on the baby’s face, and fought tears as she thought of how sad her dad would be if he ever found out what she had done.
    The child’s mother looked sidelong at Aurélie. Then she looked at the baby. She seemed to be thinking hard. ‘One week, you say?’ Her manner had softened.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Wait here.’ She walked over to a secluded part of the square, and pulled out her phone. She made a call. Aurélie couldn’t hear what she was saying, but the conversation
seemed to be making her happy. She hung up, and walked back to where they were.
    ‘Let me look at you.’ She gestured for Aurélie to stand up. She obeyed, and they stood nose to nose. The child’s mother turned a finger and thumb into a clamp, and
gripped Aurélie by the chin. Aurélie noticed how soft her gloves were. She liked them too. The mother moved her face left and right, then up and down and round and round, examining
her from a number of angles. ‘You have a kind face,’ she said. She flicked one of her ears. ‘This ear sticks out a bit more than the other one, but I can’t see that being
too much of a problem. And you do seem to be genuinely sorry.’
    ‘I am. I’m really, really sorry.’
    ‘I think you might even mean it . . .’ She moved Aurélie’s head around a little more. ‘Yes. Yes, you do mean it. You are sorry. It was a stupid thing to have done,
really stupid, but anybody can make a mistake. It wouldn’t be right for me to judge you too harshly.’
    Aurélie had never been more relieved. She had been convinced that she would be kicked out of college and sent to jail. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Thank you so
much.’
    ‘You’re not from Paris, are you? I can tell from your accent.’
    ‘No. I’ve been here about a year and a half.’
    ‘So would it be safe to say that you’re a simple country girl with honest country ways?’
    ‘I, er . . .’ Aurélie had no idea what to say to this. She had never lived in the countryside, but the child’s mother was making her sound as if she had just stepped out
of a Raymond Depardon documentary; she felt she ought to be holding a shepherd’s crook, her cheeks ruddy after a lifetime in the wind. Her home town was