Amandine paled for a fraction of a second.
Then his face hardened.
— Mathieu had your agreement to manage certain expenses.
— Not my savings.
— You’ve been making a big deal out of everything since the restaurant.
Colette almost felt like laughing.
Amandine had just tried the same method as with the neighbors: transforming the facts into symptoms, then the symptoms into supposed madness.
But this time, Colette was ready.
She opened her grey binder.
— €54,870 in 3 years.
Amandine frowned.
– What ?
— What I paid for you.
She listed them calmly.
€8,000 for the car. €6,400 in various bills. €4,700 for the boiler replacement. Insurance. Holidays. Purchases for the children. Regular transfers when your account was overdrawn.
Mathieu murmured:
– Mom…
— And I’m not even including accommodation.
The floor they occupied constituted a separate apartment of 92 square meters.
After the birth of their first child, Colette had offered them free accommodation “while they got back on their feet”.
The period had lasted 6 years.
However, on the advice of a notary, she had kept a written loan-for-use agreement specifying that the occupation was free, personal and revocable subject to a reasonable notice period.
At the time, Mathieu found this formality almost comical.
That morning, she no longer was.
“I have an appointment with Mr. Renaud tomorrow,” Colette announced. “I will terminate your free occupancy in accordance with the procedures outlined in our agreement.”
Amandine went down two steps.
— Are you going to throw us out?
— I am putting an end to 6 years during which you have lived in my home without paying rent.
— With your grandchildren!
Colette felt guilt creeping up exactly where Amandine wanted to plant it.
She thought of the two children, whom she loved deeply.
Then the bill was shoved in front of her as if her presence was worthless.
Then to his imitated signature.
— I would never put your children in danger. You will have the legally required time to organize your departure. But from now on, you will build your life with your own income, not mine.
Amandine looked at Mathieu.
— Say something!
He remains motionless.
— Mathieu !
— She’s right about the signature.
Amandine recoiled as if he had just slapped her with those 6 words.
— Pardon ?
— I shouldn’t have done it.
— Because you got caught?
The sentence surprised Colette.
Mathieu too.
He slowly turned his head towards his wife.
Amandine realized her mistake.
— That’s not what I meant.
But something had just cracked.
The next day, Colette met with Mr. Renaud.
He advised him not to improvise anything, to scrupulously respect the occupancy agreement and to formalize each step in writing.
Colette followed his recommendations exactly.
No threats.
No humiliation.
No locks changed during an absence.
She sent Mathieu and Amandine a written notification terminating the free loan with a notice period of 3 months as stipulated in their agreement.
During this period, they should also directly manage their personal expenses.
Amandine’s reaction was immediate.
For several days, she phoned cousins, aunts, and old friends of Colette.
Some tried to intervene.
— You can’t do that to your son.
— Think of the children.
— You have more money than they do.
Colette asked everyone the same question.
— Did Mathieu tell you about the falsified power of attorney?
Silence usually followed.
Some people stopped calling.
Others suddenly began to speak of a “misunderstanding”.
Colette did not try to convince anyone.
She had spent too many years providing evidence just to obtain the right to be respected.
Two weeks later, Mathieu knocked softly on the door leading to the garden.
He was alone.
Colette hesitated, then let him in.
He sat down at the old kitchen table where he had once done his homework.
For a few seconds, she relived the image of the 9-year-old boy chewing on his pen while trying to understand his divisions.
Then the 38-year-old man placed an envelope in front of her.
— These are our records.
Colette did not open it.
Why show them to me?
Mathieu ran a hand over his face.
— Because I think I’ve only just understood what we’re in.
He took a deep breath.
— We have almost nothing left.
Colette remained silent.
— Amandine has used several revolving credit lines. She also opened a cash reserve in my name 2 years ago.
— With your agreement?
— I signed a file without reading everything. She told me it was to consolidate insurance policies.
He looked at the table.
— We owe more than €31,000 excluding car loan.
This time, Colette opened the envelope.
The samples told a very different story from the one Amandine was showing to the family.
High-end clothing.
Week-ends.
Furniture purchased on credit.
Phones renewed.
Restaurants.
Split payments everywhere.
— How could you have missed it?
Mathieu blushed.
— Because I didn’t want to see.
This answer, at least, was true.
— Every time I asked a question, she said we had time. That you would help us if something went wrong.
Colette looked up.
— And you, you believed her?
— You had always helped us.
That’s the heart of the problem.
Not Amandine alone.
Not just the credits.
Colette herself had helped to create this illusion by intervening at each fall before her son touched the ground.
Mathieu continued:
— When you stopped the transfers, she panicked. She told me that if I didn’t find €12,000, she would leave with the children.
Colette stiffened.
— Is that why you forged my signature?
He nodded.
— She had seen an old power of attorney that Dad had given you before his illness. She told me that we could do something similar again and explain it to you afterwards.
Colette felt her stomach clench.
Her husband had died 8 years earlier.
Using the memory of that period to justify the falsification made him nauseous.
— And you accepted.
