The Death-Defying Pepper Roux by Geraldine McCaughrean Page A

shape of his eyebrows, the breadth of his shoulders, the cut of his jacket, his liking for licorice and bicycles, his genius regarding all things leather….
    Pepper remembered the romantic novels in his father’s study at home. It had always puzzled him why the people in the books loved their sweethearts “hopelessly,” “secretly,” “from afar” and had to eat their hearts out for three hundred pages before the happy ending put them out of their misery. Why didn’t they just say straight out to each other, in chapter 1, I love you ? Why did Suzanne not just walk over to Bertrand and say, I really admire your eyebrows and how much you know about leather—let’s get married ? Pepper could see for himself that she was kind of pretty and pretty kind. If it had not been for the calluses on his knees (and being overdue in the death department), who knows?—he might have fallen in love with her himself. But people ought not waste time. If there was one thing Aunt Mireille’s dream had taught him, it was not to waste precious time.
    So one evening, he borrowed the keys from the top-floor offices, let himself into a cashier’s booth, slipped a note into a canister— Suzanne loves you, Bertrand —and sent it, like Cupid’s arrow, across the ceiling and down to Leather Goods on the floor below. Then he went back to bed and lay there imagining the happy effect next day.
    Except that suddenly, the idea had sprung a leak. And the more he thought about it, the more leaks it sprang. What if Bertrand already had a girlfriend? What if he did not like brunettes? What if he was planning to be a priest? What if he showed the note to his fellow leather experts and they laughed about it together? What if word got out and the whole store began to point and smirk and jeer…? Hot with panic, Pepper hurried back to the cashier’s booth and wrote, on the backs of a dozen Marseillais Department Store receipt slips: Philippe loves Marguerite. Jean adores Annette. Pomme wants to marry Guillaume. As pants the hart after water, so pants Henri after Fleur. (That one sounded a bit strong, but it came from the Bible, so it must be all right.) Hercule sends a kiss to Nanette. Claude loves Gisele. He tried to think of every staff member he knew by name, tried toleave nobody out, for fear they should feel unloved. In every tube a message. In every department a mysterious note declaring love, devotion, or heartache. It would have been nice to include himself— Somebody-or-other loves Pepper Salami —but that was carrying fiction too far, what with his knees. Anyway, there was no cash tube in the Delicatessen department. Only when he had tugged the last handle and all the pipes had fallen silent overhead did his own heart quiet enough for him to return to bed.
    Downstairs, meanwhile, the night watchman scribbled a note of his own, resigning his job at the Marseillais Department Store effective immediately, On account of the unholy creatures rampaging around up top.
     
    Next morning, Pepper overslept. He woke to the sound of voices on either side of the bed. A woman’s hand took hold of the sheepskin and lifted it clear of Pepper’s head. He opened his eyes and found the husband’s face on a level with his own, peering at him.
    “I’m an advertisement,” said Pepper in a bleating whisper. “A Dormieux bed is better than counting sheep….Except that I fell asleep. Just shows. Very good bed. Can’t keep awake. Would you like to try it?” And clasping the sheepskin rug around his shoulders and face, he gathered up his shoes, jacket, and tie and trotted away to the back stairs. The departmental assistant—already at his counter—should have seen him and ranted. But he was too busy reading a note he had just found inside the cash canister.
    As the hours passed, the cavernous department store filled up with an atmosphere as volatile as gasoline fumes. The least spark, and it seemed the whole place would explode. A young man fainted in