Didier and I were from the same small village. He was a good friend of my older brother. In 1978, he already had his driver's license; I was 15 and looked after my younger sister a lot. I played a bit of a motherly role with her. Didier often came to our house. We'd see each other and talk, but nothing more. Over time, I noticed him looking at me differently. I wasn't indifferent to it, but I was shy.

Over time, Didier spent less time with my brother but was still often at our house. He was close to my father and was friends with my sister Odette, who was a year younger than me. She went out a lot on weekends to the youth center, riding her little Ciao [moped], and danced there with the others, including Didier. I was more of a homebody so at first I didn't join them. Until one day, I felt like going out too and started attending the local festivals. Didier gave me a ride and offered to be my driver. Gradually, it was just the two of us going to these little parties. I thought he was in love with me. My heart felt the same, but neither of us said anything. One evening, we went to Cannes [southern France], for a big fireworks display by the sea. While we were waiting for it to start, we sat next to each other. We hugged a little, but nothing happened. I waited for him to make the first move, which he didn't. And it went on like that for a good year.

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