Pastiche

Just give me a few minutes, said Belle et Bonne.

A few minutes! said Beckett. Is that all you think it takes to come up with a piece of highbrow art?

I am young, said Belle et Bonne. I write whatever comes into my head. Don't worry.

Done! she pronounced, after three minutes of solid typing. Would you all like to hear it?

And she began to read:

Part Two- A Romance.

Stop right there! said Beckett. A Romance! What the devil? I don't write Romance!

You do, said Belle and Bonne, and she went on reading:

It struck me suddenly that I had a choice. I was careering down a county lane on my bicycle not slowing although I knew there was a corner coming up. What if, I thought, although I am not the sort of person who generally thinks what if. What if, to speed up the story, I slow down? This may be the very action that prevents me from colliding with a woman who is riding her own bicycle on a trajectory towards me. It could be that, in the circumstances, we might stop, and greet one another. I might say, what might I say, what might I not say? I can be very charming when I like. And so can she. How beautiful she is. She is not of course wearing a hat. Her long brown hair will be escaping delightfully in curling tendrils, from a bun. We may then decide to change direction and travel togther to the nearest village, to have some lunch. She will smile and show me her white unbroken teeth.

Well, what do you think?

Oh bravo! cried Simone. I love it! What do you think, Samuel?

Not bad, said Beckett, not bad at all, young Belle et Bonne. I have no objection to a well-made pastiche.

Nor I, said The VeloDrone. Let's all go out to lunch.

Yes, said Beckett, and I'll pay, he added, looking at Simone.

The Saoi of Aosdana

A new story? I'm sure I can do that, said Samuel Beckett. I'm not a Saoi of Aosdana for nothing.

What's that? asked The VeloDrone. A type of biscuit?

No, said Beckett. It's an Irish title I was given in 1984, for achieving high distinction in the arts.
It means Wise One. It's why I wear this twist of gold around my neck.

Belle et Bonne looked unimpressed.

I knew it must be from the eighties, she remarked.

Beckett looked pained, and began to fiddle with his top button.

Anyway, said Belle et Bonne. I think it's pointless you writing the new story. You are so tied up in literature you think every word you write is precious. Look how you wouldn't even consider leaving out Simone's hat. I'll tell you what. I'll finish off the story for you.

What a good idea, said Simone. I'm all for that. Do you agree, Samuel?

Beckett looked miffed.

You win again, Simone, he said.

What's this? asked The VeloDrone.

Simone has thwarted me once before, said Beckett, darkly. In 1946 I sent a story to Sartre which he published in Les Temps Modernes. He didn't realise that it was only part one of the story. Simone refused to let him publish the second part,

Oh, why, Simone? asked The VeloDrone.

Because it would have made my little Sartre look foolish, said Simone. It has been my life's work to protect him.

Never mind all this boring ancient history! cried Belle et Bonne. Can I write part two of the story or not?

Beckett looked doubtful.

Do you think you can capture my style, Belle et Bonne? he asked.

At the drop of a hat, she replied.

Recycling

Anything else? asked Beckett.

Yes, said Simone. The broken tooth. Anyone who sees through the orange hat will recognise it as mine. I propose you make a major alteration to the text.

Any suggestion as to what that might be?

Perhaps, said Simone, instead of knocking me off my bicycle and breaking my tooth, you could run over my little dog Teddy. The crowd would gather, angrily. And I ( who am not I, but the woman in the orange hat) would say, in your defence, This man has done me a favour, as I just happened to be taking Teddy to the vet to have him put down.

Oh, that's very good, said Belle et Bonne. I like that even better.

Thank you said Simone.

Thank me, said Samuel Beckett. That's straight out of my novel Molloy.

As to that, said Simone, the story of the broken tooth is straight out of my novel The Mandarins!

And she fixed Beckett with a glare.

Is this a stalemate? asked The VeloDrone. Where do we go from here?

I think we need a new story, said Belle et Bonne.

What's It All About?

The phone rang. Belle et Bonne answered. It was Samuel Beckett.

Have you received the second part of my story? he asked.

Yes, said Belle et Bonne, but I must tell you that someone here is not pleased with it.

Your papa? asked Samuel Beckett, sounding surprised.

No, our friend Simone, said Belle et Bonne.

How can that be? It isn't published, is it?

It is, at least the first half is, and she has read the second. Would you like to speak to her?

No. I'll be there in five minutes! said Beckett.

Five minutes later he popped his head round the door.

Simone! he cried. I am sorry!

Samuel, said Simone, it's just too bad of you.

How can I make amends? asked Beckett.

You can re-write the second part, said Simone firmly. I strongly object to several things in it.
The first one being that I am readily identifiable by the description of my hat.

I shall change the hat, said Samuel. How would you like me to describe it?

I should like you not to describe it at all, said Simone, crossly.

The hat remains, for literary reasons, said Beckett. But I am willing to change its colour, and its shape.

Simone looked perplexed.

I know! said Belle et Bonne. You could make the hat orange. I always thought it would be nicer orange, she added.

Good gracious, why? asked Simone.

Because you wore it on the cover of The Mandarins, said Belle et Bonne.

That's good, said Samuel Beckett.

You are not thinking of describing it in terms of the fruit, I hope, said Simone.

What does it matter, if it is not your hat? asked Beckett.

Yes, chimed in The VeloDrone. Don't forget that it's no longer your hat.

If it's not mine, said Simone, then what is this all about?

He Will Pay

Calm yourself, Simone! said The VeloDrone. Of course we will not publish it. You and I, we shall not even read it.

Oh yes we shall, said Simone, calming down at once. I most certainly wish to know what that man has written about me. Read it, Belle et Bonne.

Belle et Bonne began to read:

Sometimes I have a very clear memory of things that have happened. For example it was only yesterday I ran my bicycle into a woman who was rounding a bend in a country lane. The woman was riding a bicycle exactly like mine in all respects but both her feet were pedalling. She wore a black and white striped hat, rounded at the top, like a pixie......

You see, said Simone tartly.

I see, said The VeloDrone. Go on Belle et Bonne.

The woman tumbled off her bicycle. I was obliged to bring myself to a sudden halt in order to go to her aid, although I did not see how I could help when I had a stiff leg, and in the process I too landed in the road with my outer clothing all askew. A crowd gathered around us as if from nowhere.......

A lie, said Simone. There was no crowd.

All to the good, said the VeloDrone.

........I was composing a mitigating statement with the object of speaking aloud when the woman stood up and straightened her hat, saying some words the nature of which I have forgotten, but it was clear she had broken a tooth. Look, said someone in the crowd, she has broken a tooth and it is the fault of this man. The crowd took on a threatening visage. Do not worry about it, said the woman, in fact this man has done me a favour. The tooth in question was chipped already, and I had resigned myself to living with the deformity, being a woman of a certain age......

Belle et Bonne stopped reading and looked at Simone, who had turned an alarming shade of puce. Simone nodded at her to go on. She gabbled the final few words.

......but now I must visit the dentist !

Well, said Simone heavily, that at least is true. And it is Beckett who will pay.

The Spotted Veil

No sooner had the story been published, than a second email arrived from Samuel Beckett. The VeloDrone and Belle et Bonne were about to read it when there came a knock at the door. Simone de Beauvoir swept in, wearing a perky black and white striped hat with a spotted veil.

Simone! cried Belle et Bonne. What a lovely hat! But yes, I have seen it before. You wore it on the cover of your novel Les Mandarins. And now you have added a veil.

It's to hide my broken tooth! exclaimed Simone de Beauvoir. Thanks to that dreadful man, she added. Then she remembered her manners.

Hello VeloDrone, hello Belle et Bonne, how nice it is to see you both again.

And it's lovely to see you too, dear Simone, said The VeloDrone. To what do we owe the honour?

Ahem, said Simone. I have just read Beckett's story in Velosophy.

That was quick, said The VeloDrone.

Indeed, said Simone. And I am outraged!

Outraged, but why? asked Belle et Bonne. Didn't you see that I was in it?

I did, Belle dear, and that part was lovely, but did you know that Samuel Beckett is the man who knocked me off my bicycle the other day? The stupid man was riding with a pair of crutches attached to his cross bar and pedalling with one foot!

But Simone, he wasn't even limping when he left our office!

That's Beckett for you, said Simone. I know him all too well. He was playing at being one of his characters, Molloy. Molloy rides a bicycle in just that fashion.

You mean to say, said The VeloDrone, that the story we published was not original? Good grief!

It must have been original papa, because we were in it, said Belle et Bonne. Let's see what his email says........oh no!

What? cried the VeloDrone.

That was only the first half of the story! Now he's sent us the other half. And oh dear....and you are in it, Simone!

I forbid you to publish it! thundered Simone, through the spotted veil.

Beckett Writes

Then I suppose we shall have to wait even longer to get something from Simone, said The VeloDrone. Is there anything from our friend Beckett?

No, said Belle et Bonne. Oh no, wait, yes there is.

She began to read Beckett's email, to herself. She smiled.

Come on, come on, said The VeloDrone impatiently. What does it say?

It must be his article for Velosophy, said Belle et Bonne. And I'm in it!

You! said her papa! Read it out.

She began to read:

I'm in a room, and I am not alone. At least, I am not alone at this point of time. At another point of time I may have been here alone, for it seems familiar. But it is pointless to be thinking about other points of time at this particular one.......

Good heavens! cried The VeloDrone! Is it all like that?

No, said Belle et Bonne, not all. I'll skip those parts and get to the bit about me....

....A man is showing me around, a man purporting to be my friend, he wants something, I pretend that I remember him, now I think I really do remember him, he is a writer and he rides a bicycle. We went to university together, no, when I think more specifically about it, that was Joyce, not this man, who is much older. In the corner of the room a young woman is looking at a box.....That's me papa! A young woman!

And I suppose that's me, said the VeloDrone. An old man. That's rich from a man who thinks a computer is a box.

I'm sure he doesn't mean it, said Belle et Bonne. Now listen to this:

She looks at me, becoming concerned about a certain stiffness in my leg. I may have mentioned it to her in passing. She asks me how I manage to ride my bicycle with a stiff leg, this being in her opinion an impediment that would be hard to overcome. I reply that it is no impediment at all, that when I wish to mount my bicycle, which by the way is an old fashioned green bicycle with a rubber horn, I merely attach my crutches to the cross bar, rest my stiff leg on the projecting front axle, and pedal with the other. She seems dissatsified with this. Perhaps because I did not explain it to her as fully as I have indicated. I may in fact, have promised to explain it to her at some later date. Yes that would explain her look, and so it may be that is what I did....... don't you love it, papa?

Hum, said The VeloDrone. Is that it?

I think so, said Belle et Bonne. It stops there. But he hasn't signed it or anything.

Typical, said the VeloDrone. We can't be sure it's finished. Still, the bicycle is in it. Let's publish!

A Coincidence

That Samuel Beckett was a strange man, said Belle et Bonne, the following day. Did you notice, papa, that he didn't have a limp.

That's Samuel Beckett for you, said The VeloDrone, comfortably. Sometimes he limps, and sometimes he doesn't. It's something to do with existentialism, or absurdism. Or is it post modernism? I'm never quite sure of the difference.

It's something to do with not telling the truth, said Belle et Bonne, disapprovingly. I'm not looking forward to his story.

But you told him you were, observed her papa.

Belle et Bonne ignored this remark.

I don't know why you chose him to be the next contributor, she said. My friend Simone will be sending us her story soon.

Simone de Beauvoir! said the VeloDrone. That was months ago now. How long must we wait for this woman?

I don't know papa, but she'll surely write soon. I'll just check the inbox again....oh look, here's something from her, let me see......

You look alarmed my dear, said The VeloDrone.

Oh no! She's fallen off her bicycle and broken a tooth, papa!

Dear me! What happened?

She says she was riding along a country lane, when she turned a corner and crashed headlong into a man with a stiff leg, and crutches!

Innocence

It is the end of the day of Stage 11. Everyone is discussing the disqualification of Mark Renshaw for head butting, including Diderot, who has made himself known to his old friends.

Diderot: Did you see it?

The VeloDrone: No. But you say he was disqualified?

Diderot: Yes. And he is now at the station with his bags packed,waiting to go home.

Le Bon David: Half his luck!

Jean Paul Sartre: I am inclined to agree.

Belle et Bonne: Now I'm sure you don't mean that, you two.

Simone de Beauvoir: No they don't, it is their tired legs talking. Let us change the subject. Monsieur Diderot, I did not know what to think, after finishing your book, The Nun.

Jean Paul Sartre: There's a turn-up! You usually know exactly what to think about everything.

Belle et Bonne: Hee hee!

Le Bon David: You sound just like your papa when you laugh like that, Belle et Bonne.

Belle et Bonne: Oh how embarrassing! I shall never laugh again.

Diderot: But Simone, why was it that you did not know what to think?

Simone de Beauvoir: It was just too confusing! Your story of the nun is beautiful, intriguing and sad, with a great deal of satire directed towards convent life, and more than one hint that the young woman Suzanne is not quite as innocent as she portrays herself.

Diderot: Yes I got quite carried away with my story. I shed many a tear as I wrote it. As to her innocence, Simone, is that what you found confusing?

Simone de Beauvoir: No monsieur! It is your preface placed at the end of the novel that is confusing! What are we to think when you tell us the story is part of an elaborate hoax?

Diderot: That it is still a good story, whether told by a man in the voice of a nun, or told by a man using the voice of a man playing a trick upon another man using the voice of a nun. The story remains the same. And it was based on a true story, although that story had a different ending.......

Belle et Bonne: Thank goodness for that. Is it bedtime?

Diderot

Unknown to Belle et Bonne and Simone de Beauvoir, Denis Diderot was riding directly behind them.

Denis Diderot: Excuse me ladies! I could not help hearing my name mentioned! Allow me to introduce myself. I am Denis Diderot, a friend of your papa, mademoiselle, and the author of the book you are reading, madame.

Simone de Beauvoir: I am not madame.

Denis Diderot: Then you must excuse me.

Simone de Beauvoir: Certainly. An understandable mistake. Many people think Jean Paul and I are married.

Denis Diderot: Jean Paul ? I don't know him. No, I thought you were the young lady's mother.

Simone de Beauvoir: Hmph!

Belle et Bonne: But, Monsieur Diderot, what are you doing here?

Denis Diderot: I am a backup rider for Team Encyclopedie. I don't expect to have very much to do, frankly. They are not really trying to win.

Belle et Bonne; Oh, what bad sports they must be. Team Philosophe always try their very best to win, even though they are all past their prime.

Simone de Beauvoir: Except perhaps for my petit Jean Paul.

Belle et Bonne: Oh yes, except perhaps for him.

Denis Diderot: Well madame, er, mademoiselle, how are you enjoying my novel, The Nun?

Simone de Beauvoir: It is certainly a page turner. But I should like to reserve my judgement until I have finished it. I have reason to believe there will be a surprise.

Denis Diderot: Indeed? What makes you think so?

Simone de Beauvoir: The introduction hints at it.

Denis Diderot: Introduction! What introduction? I deliberately placed my preface at the end!

Simone de Beauvoir: I know. But the modern edition comes with an introduction, which reveals what is in the preface. Do not worry, monsieur, I stopped reading it as soon as I realised. Now, would you like a spinach triangle?

Belle et Bonne: Yes, would you? Go on. We're both going to have one.

Bastille Day

Belle et Bonne and Simone de Beauvoir are cycling behind the peloton on the road from Chambery to Gap. The previous night was hot and they are feeling quite fatigued.

Simone de Beauvoir: Oh, I am feeling quite fatigued!

Belle et Bonne: Me too. Let's slow down. It's not as if we are competing.

Simone de Beauvoir: I hope that one of the French riders wins today. It's Bastille Day, you know.

Belle et Bonne: As if I could forget. Papa and Uncle David were going on about it all through breakfast. They insisted on having croissants even though croissants are a most unsuitable breakfast for a race day.

Simone de Beauvoir: Ahh. They are great champions of freedom, your papa and your uncle.

Belle et Bonne: He's not my uncle.

Simone de Beavoir: I keep forgetting. What do they think of France's decision to ban the burqa?

Belle et Bonne: They think it is hilarious. Papa says why go to the trouble of banning something hardly anybody wears. And Uncle David says he hopes more ladies start to wear them so that it will have been worthwhile bringing in the law.

Simone de Beauvoir: It is all very well for men to make a joke of it. But it is a serious question when different freedoms are pitted against one another. I wonder what Diderot would have said on the matter.

Belle et Bonne: Diderot?

Simone de Beauvoir: Yes, I'm reading his very curious book, The Nun, at the moment. It is about a beautiful young woman who is forced into a convent by her family. She suffers all manner of indignities there.

Belle et Bonne: Ooh! What kind of indignities?

Simone de Beauvoir: Jealousy, sadistic cruelty, lesbian advances.....in fact I'm not sure whether it's meant to be more titillating than instructive.

Belle et Bonne: I should like to read it after you. Diderot, you say? I'm sure papa knows him.

Simone de Beauvoir: He certainly does. Your papa contributed many articles to his famous Encyclopedie!

Out of Sight

At the end of Stage Nine in the Tour de France, Team Philosophe is nursing its wounds.

The VeloDrone: That Col de la Madeleine has just about finished me off! Oh my legs and shoulders!

Le Bon David: Where's Simone? I need some of her embrocation!

Simone de Beauvoir: Here I am. Sit down and I'll rub it in for you. Where does it hurt?

Le Bon David: Would you mind if I did it myself? Here let me just stick my finger in. Ahh, that's better.

Jean Paul Sartre: Ohh! I'm next! And you can rub it in, Simone.

Belle et Bonne: At least you are all in one piece! Have you heard what has happened to Cadel Evans? He was riding all day with a fracture! He has lost his yellow jersey and, at the finish, he wept in despair.

Le Bon David: So that was the reason for the blue strapping on his elbow.

Belle et Bonne: Yes. Underneath that blue strapping was something no one could see. That reminds me, Uncle David. Have you come up with an answer to Simone's question yet?

Jean Paul Sartre: I bet he hasn't.

The VeloDrone: I bet he has.

Le Bon David: It's a curly one. Do colours exist in the absence of light? No, only when the light is on. But there are exceptions.

Simone de Beauvoir: Oh? And what are they?

Le Bon David: Certain objects are hot enough to emit light of their own.

Belle et Bonne: Oh bravo, Uncle David! You see, Simone?

The Long Lunch

Our friends are enjoying their rest day in Morzine-Avoriaz. They are having a picnic of bread and cheese and berries in a sweet-smelling meadow overlooking a spectacular valley.

Jean Paul Sartre: Pass the cheese, please, Simone, ma cherie.

Simone de Beauvoir ( passing the cheese): Don't eat too much of it, mon petit. You will get heartburn.

The VeloDrone: Oh let him eat what he likes today. It's a holiday. Pass it to me when you're done with it, Jean Paul.

Belle et Bonne: It isn't a holiday papa, it's a rest day. You are supposed to be gathering your strength for the climb up the Col de la Madeleine tomorrow.

Le Bon David: Groan!!

Belle et Bonne: What's the matter, Uncle David?

Le Bon David: I am too old for this. I ache all over. This may be my last Tour de France. If philosophy teaches one how to live, then I have learned nothing.

Belle et Bonne: Don't be sad Uncle David. You are one of the most famous philosophers in the whole world. I'm sure you will figure out how to live quite soon. Let me in the meantime ask you the philosophical question I was going to ask you yesterday.

Simone de Beauvoir: Yes, ask him. I too will be interested in the answer.

Belle et Bonne: Yes, she will. It's really her question.

Le Bon David; Well. what is it then?

Belle et Bonne: Simone has to wear something blue to a party.

Simone de Beauvoir: I thought we weren't going to frame the question in that way!

Belle et Bonne: Oops! Sorry. I meant, Uncle David, do you think that colour can exist in the absence of light?

Le Bon David: I say! This isn't going to be a question about her undergarments, is it?

Station des Rousses

Belle et Bonne and Simone de Beauvoir are riding slowly up a Category Three hill towards Station des Rousses behind several members of the BBox team.

Simone de Beauvoir ( thoughtfully): That is a lovely shade of blue.

Belle et Bonne: What? The BBox blue?

Simone de Beauvoir: Yes. I have to wear something blue to a party.

Belle et Bonne: Oh what fun. How about the blue of Team Quick Step? That is very pretty. Or the aqua of Team Astana? That's my favourite colour of all.

Simone de Beauvoir: I am only dreaming. I do not have a blue dress. And I do not wish to spend money on a new one that I will wear only once.

Belle et Bonne; Well, have you any underwear that is blue? If someone at the party asks you why you are not wearing blue, you can say, Oh but I am wearing something blue. It is just that you cannot see it.

Simone de Beauvoir: What a clever idea! But this party will be attended by philosophers....

Belle et Bonne: Aha. I think I foresee the problem.

Simone de Beavoir: Yes, a philosopher would question whether something that is underneath one's outer clothing where no light penetrates can be considered to have any colour at all.

Belle et Bonne: It is debatable. It seems to me this is a question for Uncle David.

Simone de Beauvoir: It is indeed. But do you really wish to put it to him?

Belle et Bonne ( turning pink ) : Not unless I can put it to him without....

Simone de Beauvoir (laughing) : ..... the complication of underwear ! I'm sure it can be arranged!

Missing Shades

Jean Paul Sartre started handing out the drinks and snacks.

The VeloDrone: Spinach Triangles! They're not high energy snacks!

Jean Paul Sartre: Simone swears by them. She says that anything green.....

Le Bon David: Here let me have one. Hmm, funny shade of green.

The VeloDrone: Perhaps it's your famous Missing Shade of Green.

Le Bon David: It was the Missing Shade of Blue.

The VeloDrone: Oh yes, so it was. But I suppose there could equally be a Missing Shade of Green.

Jean Paul Sartre: What's all this about?

Le Bon David ( modestly) : It's my well-known contradiction. I contended that there could be no idea without there first being an impression. Then I said that one could come up with an instance of an idea arising without there first being an impression, although it wasn't necessarily a serious problem......

Jean Paul Sartre: Come on man, get to the point.

Le Bon David: I'm eating, and riding a bike. Give me a break...

The VeloDrone: Let me explain it. He said that it would be possible for a person to imagine a shade of blue that fell between a lighter and a darker shade of blue, without ever having seen that particular shade of blue before in his life.

Jean Paul Sartre: I must tell Simone. She has to wear something blue to a party.

Le Bon David: What's that got to do with it?

Jean Paul Sartre: This new shade of blue you speak of.

The VeloDrone: But it's MISSING!

Jean Paul Sartre: That will not trouble Simone.

Castor

Simone de Beauvoir and Belle et Bonne are riding together at a leisurely pace behind the main peloton in Stage Five of the Tour De France. Since yesterday they have become the best of friends.

Belle et Bonne: Isn't it funny how their heads are at different heights and yet their bottoms are all on the same level!

Simone de Beauvoir: Yes, is is amusing. The reason is that the handlebars are all on the same level. Have you ever watched the Tour de France from the front?

Belle et Bonne: Yes, I like to watch the handlebars approaching. It's good to know that everyone is equal.

Simone de Beauvoir: And yet some of them have much longer legs than others. Take mon petit homme Jean Paul. He's only five feet tall you know. It is difficult for him.

Belle et Bonne: Oh, but he has a giant intellect of course.

Simone de Beauvoir: That does not help much on a bicycle.

Belle et Bonne: Simone, may I ask you something?

Simone de Beauvoir: Fire away!

Belle et Bonne: Well....I'm a modern girl, but I would never let my partner call me Beaver.

Simone de Beauvoir: Why? It's just a nickname, which I got for working hard. In fact it is a double joke, because in French he calls me Castor, which is the same as Beaver in English. And then of course, Beaver sounds like Beauvoir. It is quite clever, no?

Belle et Bonne: But Simone, do you not know that Beaver has a ribald meaning these days? It is used quite frequently in low class American films.

Simone de Beauvoir: No? Oh no ! I can guess! Oh! That is too funny! I cannot wait to tell it to mon petit Jean Paul!

The Beaver

Belle et Bonne arrived in Cambrai very early in the morning. She burst into the hotel room where The VeloDrone, Le Bon David, Jean Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir were finishing their breakfast.

What's that horrible smell? she demanded.

Hello my dear, said The VeloDrone. How lovely to see you. Let me introduce you to Simone de Beauvoir. She has been looking after us splendidly.

Hello, said Belle et Bonne, in the direction of Simone De Beauvoir. Nice to meet you.

She sniffed pointedly. Whatever is it, that smell?

Hello, Belle et Bonne, smiled Simone de Beauvoir. Yes, it is a horrid smell, is it not? I have been treating the bruises of your papa, and David and mon petit Jean Paul, with this Chinese medicine which I myself use for everything including headaches and sore throats.

Uggh! said Belle et Bonne. All three of them smell disgusting.

Never mind, dear Belle et Bonne, said Le Bon David. We shall no doubt be riding in our usual position at the back of the peloton.

Oh, hello Uncle David! said Belle et Bonne. How are you feeling today?

Uncle David! exclaimed Jean Paul Sartre, staring at Le Bon David. Why does she call you Uncle David?

Never mind, said Le Bon David. It's a long story. I'm not really her uncle, he added hastily.

No, he isn't, said Belle et Bonne. I've sworn to call him Uncle David until he learns to respect the intelligence of women.

Simone de Beauvoir looked up from her pot of Chinese embrocation.

He does not respect the intelligence of women?

Of course I do, blustered Le Bon David. It's just a little joke between us.

Aha! I see. said Simone de Beauvoir. Just as I call Jean Paul mon petit homme, and he calls me the Beaver.

Affection

All is chaos in the Velosophy office. Belle et Bonne is Skyping with The VeloDrone, who is in Brussels.

Belle et Bonne: O papa! Did you hurt yourself? Let me see your bruises!

The VeloDrone: Calm yourself, my dear, I am perfectly alright. They are very small bruises. But David came a nasty cropper on the cobblestones. He's going to have to spend the day in bed.

Belle et Bonne: I knew I shouldn't have let you go! You're both too old to be riding in the Tour De France!

The VeloDrone: Nonsense my pet! It takes more than a catastrophic pile-up to get the better of Team Philosophe ! Now tell me, how are things going in the office ? Have you and Madam Denis found more lady philosophers?

Belle et Bonne: Oh yes, papa. Marie has made a list. Let me see, we have Hypatia of Alexandria, Teresa of Avila, Hildegard of Bingen, Mary Wollestonecroft, Margaret Cavendish, George Eliot, Ayn Rand, Simone de Beauvoir......

The VeloDrone: Did you say Simone de Beauvoir?

Belle et Bonne: Yes, papa.

The VeloDrone: What a coincidence! I saw her just this morning. She's here with Jean Paul Sartre, who is riding with our team. Or should I say, he was....

Belle et Bonne: Did he come a cropper as well?

The VeloDrone: Unfortunately, yes.

Belle et Bonne: And is Simone de Beauvoir looking after him?

The VeloDrone: Yes dear. She's being very kind to David too. And me.

Belle et Bonne: Well Papa, I have just decided something.

The VeloDrone: What's that?

Belle et Bonne: I'm coming over.

Day Off

Le Bon David and the VeloDrone have the day off. They decide to cycle down to Henley Beach and relax in the sun. Leaving their bicycles under a pine tree, they struggle through the soft sand with all their things.

Le Bon David: Phew! Why did we bring all these things?

The VeloDrone: Umbrella, towels, books, sketch pad, pencils, bottles of water, coconut, sun cream, hats. We'll need them all.

They set up their umbrella, spread out the towels, and sit down. Le Bon David begins to read. The VeloDrone starts sketching.

He sketches the horizon. It is very flat. He draws some waves. They are of medium size, perhaps even small. He draws the ripples in the sands and the glittering shallow pools and a seagull. He rubs out the seagull. Lucky I brought my rubber, he thinks.

But now there is a smudge on the page. I need to draw something else in that spot, he thinks. But unfortunately there isn't anything there. He looks at his friend for inspiration.

Le Bon David is happily munching on a large chunk of coconut, while turning the pages of his novel, The Mandarins, by Simone de Beauvoir. He is chuckling.

What's so funny? asks The VeloDrone.

Hee hee, says Le Bon David. Jean Paul Sartre is in it.

What a laugh, says The VeloDrone, grabbing at the book. Let me see!

No, I'm reading it, protests Le Bon David, but too late. The VeloDrone has run off down the beach with The Mandarins.

Vello! Bring back that book! calls David, chucking the large piece of coconut at his friend, followed by several more.

Eventually The VeloDrone tires of his game, and of being bruised by large chunks of coconut. He skips back to the umbrella, and returns the book to his friend.

Ugh! It's all wet! says Le Bon David. I hope you're satisfied.

He looks sternly at The VeloDrone, who has already forgotten all about him. He is happily drawing coconut chunks over his smudge.

On Stephen Hawking's Wall

10 Comments:


Even I, the divine Dali, have never come up with a concept as slippery as your square root of B, where B may be B, or something else that starts with B ! Brilliantissimo, my astrophysical friend! Contact me if you wish to change the colours of the NanoStrings. I have many fine paints in my paintbox. Salvador Dali.

Congratulations on an interesting article Stephen! Have you looked at lower case b as a possible root? bxb=B. There are a lot more bs than Bs in the universe. Bill Bailey.

Stephen! It pains me to see that you collude with the rest of the world in attributing the 'bicycle-dream/going on a journey' connection to me. Professor Sigmund Freud.

The square root of B. Very existentialist! I like it. Simone De Beauvoir ( The Beaver ) xxx

Square root of Bicycle is wheel! Square root of Bang is Omm! Square root of Backwardness is Nirvana! Just a few random thoughts I had. Cheers! The Buddha.

We love you Stephen! You rock! Babar, Barbie, Bob the Builder, Britney, Bratx xxxxx

Dear Mr Hawking, I don't think your article made very much sense at all. Alice.

I think this magazine should only publish nice stories, such as the one my grandfather has written about me and my bicycle. We are still waiting to see it in print. Who wants to know about the square root of B? Sophie Freud.

Stephen! You seem to be turning into a prankster. Be squared, be very squared! LOL. Albert Einstein.

I do not appreciate being made into a figure of fun, even in an inconsequential magazine such as this. You will shortly be hearing from my lawyers. Real Stephen Hawking.