The huge dance floor at the Cabane Créole is already full to bursting. The Tabou Combo is exploding on a stage decidedly too small for the group. The musicians seem to be in top form. “That’s thunder,” as Freddy says when he’s had too much to drink. Each table has its own bottle of cognac. Rum is for the plebes. As always, when she feels the physical pleasure of it rise within her, Tanya begins to laugh to herself. She stands in an advantageous spot and scans the room carefully before crossing to the best table. She waits for the right moment to cross the room. A pause. She puts out her cigarette. Now she goes. Shoubou (the combo’s singer since the heroic epoch of Bébé Paramount), an old friend, sees her and announces her presence over the mike: “And here we have the lovely Tanya. She is beautiful, she is beautiful, beeee-youuuu-teeee-full . . .” Tanya smiles. “Tanya!” She turns towards Minouche, who is sitting by the stage. “I didn’t think I’d see you here tonight, Tanya .
