Take a chance on Paris (eBook)

Petra Coltat-Gran (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025
306 Seiten
novum publishing (Verlag)
978-1-64268-469-8 (ISBN)

Infos

Alba triumphs. She has finally put her decision into action: Away from Germany and into dreamy Paris. She has high hopes for the city with the Eiffel Tower. But when Alba sets off on a cold September morning, leaving everything behind her, she has no idea of the dangers and traps that await her. Initial successes reward Alba for her boldness. She discovers famous places, meets fascinating people and makes friends with young, spirited women. There are even exotic love affairs in the offing. However, Paris soon reveals its merciless side. Gradually, Alba finds herself in unbearable situations that come to a dramatic head. To make matters worse, she suddenly finds herself in the middle of criminal machinations.

Textauszug

 

GIRL FOR EVERYTHING, STUDIES, DOG PARTY AND LESLEY

The alarm clock, still buried in my suitcase, jolts me awake this Monday morning. Damn it! Five o'clock! I scowl, realizing I've forgotten to reset the alarm from yesterday's schedule. "Far too early!" I groan, sinking back into the pillows, determined to reclaim my interrupted dream of an exciting handball game. Half-conscious, half-asleep, I'm back on the handball court, our team leading victoriously. Elation surges through me, chasing away the last tendrils of sleep.

"Come on, girl! Time to get moving! You're expected downstairs!" I mentally urge myself, and the self-pep talk works. A warm shower, fresh clothes, a quick unpacking and I'm ready to face the day. Descending the stairs, I greet Mrs. Demarnier with a bright, "Good morning, madam." She sits at the dining table, savoring coffee, creamy scrambled eggs, and a selection of fine cheeses. Golden croissants and a crusty baguette with jam fill the room with their inviting aroma. Her hair is pulled back into a sleek ponytail, her black leather trousers and apple-green blouse clashing with her heavily made-up face especially those bright red lips.

Her legs are elegantly crossed. She holds the coffee cup between her thumb and index finger, while her little finger is spread out. She greets me back in an indifferent tone: "Bonjour, Mademoiselle. I'll have to leave in ten minutes. Go and wash the dishes." - "Yes, of course. Thank you," I reply inwardly, "I slept well too, in case you were wondering." Disappointed by this unconcern, I immediately get to work, but I can still see Mrs. Demarnier opening her mouth like a fish, to carefully toss the morsels in, ensuring her lipstick remains pristine. The smell of coffee fills my nose. The delicious food on the table looks tempting. Of course, I remember that there is no catering for me here. With an empty stomach, still hungry from yesterday, I complete the task set for me. But immediately after leaving the house of this "pedantic creature" - Mr. Demarnier had already left - and in view of the dogs lying lazily on the sofas in the living room, I pounce on the leftover food. I grab a soothing cup of coffee and finish the scraps. The garbage bin or my stomach? The choice is obvious and I'm going to make a habit of it. Time to go for a walk! I grasp the dog leads and shout energetically: "Jesabel, Kelvin, venez, promenade!" In a few jumps, both are at the front door. The dogs try to open the door with their snouts and it is only with great effort that I manage to get the collars on them. One on the right, the other on the left, they pull me powerfully through the streets. Despite several attempts to brake, this walk turns into a jog, which sends me dashing to the park a kilometer away. Of course, we have to go back the same way. Exhausted, I release the dogs in the living room, wipe them down after several intense licking sessions and prepare their food.

Martin, the nice med student, is standing in the entrance and calls over to me: "Everything all right? Everything fine with the dogs? Keep them at a distance and make sure they stay calm, in order to master and control the situation." Martin walks a few steps in my direction until he stops right in front of me. "There's one thing I'd like to tell you: sometimes there's a dog party in the evening. If you can't sleep, just come down to my place." What? Dog party? I really can't imagine what that means. I don't know the answer and simply reply: "Ah, merci." Martin has jet-black hair, dark, almond-shaped eyes and is of medium height. His slim figure is evidence of remarkable eating discipline. It is amazing how delicate his lips look. They appear like a fine line on his narrow face. If he had a fuller mouth, I could fall in love with him. How could you kiss lips like that? I surprise myself with this bold thought. "But Alba, how do you even come up with such ideas?" I ask myself. He pulls a worn gray coat over his blue jeans and a black shirt and leaves the house. "Salute, Alba, and have a good day," I hear before the door slams shut. I glance at my watch and realize that my timing is good. The morning is going according to plan, just as it was set - or rather imposed - yesterday. I'm done with work by one o'clock and my nerves too, of course! There's not much time to prepare for school. At three o'clock, my French test takes place in the "rue de Rasp ail" in the 6th district. The result will determine which level I am placed in: Beginner, intermediate - or advanced level. Depending on the classification, you can take courses and receive diplomas. If I'm already putting half of my savings on the reception desk, I want to reach the highest possible rank. My short-term goal is to generate income as quickly as possible so that I can breathe a little easier financially and not just live off bakery goods and the like. A qualified diploma from the language school in the field of higher French literature, combined with a qualification from the Franco-German Chamber of Industry and Commerce, will enable me to work as a translator and interpreter for companies. After this phase, I will be able to continue planning my career prospects. I arrive at the language institute at half past two, complete the required paperwork, pay for the test and make my way to the classroom on the second floor of the central building. There are people from different countries everywhere. A handsome young Southerner with long black hair and a fiery look catches my eye in the stairwell. As we walk past each other, he gives me a cheeky look. It seems as if he is interested in me.

The test begins, and I give my all, fully focused and determined. The digital questionnaire is evaluated immediately at the end. After a few exciting minutes, the result is announced: "Advanced" is displayed on the computer screen. Thank you, Sister Teresa! This means I don't need to take the grammar courses and can enroll directly in the "Diplôme de la Littérature Française" program. This is the preliminary stage of the "Professorat" program, which qualifies students to teach French at numerous private schools abroad. It is offered in cooperation with the renowned Sorbonne University. Once again, I go to the first floor to fill out the necessary forms and pay the fees. Aha, and who is waiting for me here? Well, the guy from the stairwell! One look, a smile, and he approaches me without being invited. He more or less stutters with a beginner's French:

"Bonjour, ça va?" I'm Allan. Did you get through the tests? Do you have time for a coffee? My lessons are over. We can go to the 'Annexe' right next door."

Bold to flirt with me so openly, I think and notice that he is only marginally taller than me. Interesting, I think, so the café next to the school building is called "Annexe" by the students. Before I decide to spend a few minutes in the company of this young, exotic man, I take a moment to look at him from head to toe. I conclude that I like him. "So, let's go to the 'Annexe'!", I reply to Allan after the positive assessment. As soon as I enter this small, almost overcrowded café, my gaze falls on the flashing pinball machine, which a dedicated Asian is energetically shaking back and forth. The balls under the protective glass bounce wildly in all directions, accompanied by a loud bang with every bump, which roars unpleasantly in our ears. On the left and right sides of the café are bistro tables with brown wooden benches and chairs. At the very back, we finally discover two empty seats. Most of the young people are sitting close together or leaning against the bar. It is obvious that nearly all of them are pupils of the language university. A young waiter and a man of about forty with a bald head and glasses are standing behind the bar. The latter is addressed by everyone as "Joe". Both run the place and seem quite busy. Allan orders two cups of coffee and immediately starts the discussion, which quickly continues in English. His home country is Sri Lanka. He was born in the capital Colombo and has been learning French in Paris for eight weeks. Twenty-four years old, Allan currently works in a travel agency. The unbearable poverty in his home country has driven him to try his luck in Paris. An uncle who has been living in France for some time offers him accommodation in a northern Paris suburb. As he sits opposite me, talking away, I notice his wide, dark brown lips and his small, girlish hands. The word "delicate" comes to mind. About a meter away from me sits a young woman with reddish hair, azure blue "googly eyes" and a beautiful pout, which she opens slightly to drink her Coke. She is drumming her fingers impatiently on a pack of cigarettes lying on the table in front of her. She seems to be waiting for someone. As I look at her in detail, even marveling at how incredibly attractive she is, an intuition arises in me. An inner voice whispers that I will get to know her better very soon. I sense that we will soon be closely connected. There are moments in life when the future reveals itself, as if everything is already there. This has happened to me several times before. After half an hour of discussion, I say goodbye to Allan and we arrange to meet the next day at two o'clock in front of his classroom. My classes run from half past two to half past six in the afternoon and start tomorrow. After returning to my room, I devote myself to the demanding teaching program. My studies focus on renowned authors such as Françoise Sagan with her work "Bonjour tristesse", Boris Vian and his "L'Écume des jours" and Flaubert with his book "L'Éducation sentimentale". In total, there are ten authors and their literary texts to work through. Then, I anxiously count the money I've saved...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 26.2.2025
• Verlagsort: Neckenmarkt
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• Schlagworte: Belletristik • Krimi • Petra Coltat-Gran • Spannung
• ISBN-10: 1-64268-469-4 / 1642684694
• ISBN-13: 978-1-64268-469-8 / 9781642684698