Chapter 1 – The First Day
The sun streamed in through the thin curtains and fell across my face. I muttered in my sleep and snuggled further down into the warmth of my covers. On cue the digital clock beside my bed began to screech that it was time to get up. I groaned and slowly opened my eyes.
"Oh shut up will you?" I muttered as I pressed the off button on the alarm. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes I swung my legs out of bed and got up. I stumbled sleepily to the bathroom and locked myself in there for half an hour.
Half an hour later I emerged from the bathroom fresh and ready to greet the world, well on the outside at least.
"Bel are you ready yet?" came a masculine voice from downstairs. I sighed and called back,
"Almost Papa! I just have to pack my bag." I crossed back to my room, threw a few exercise books and pens into my backpack and walked downstairs.
"There you are," Marius King exclaimed as I entered the kitchen.
"I know, I know, I don't have time for breakfast."
"Here's your lunch and here's some money to get something to eat on the walk through town. I'll be working all day so I won't be here when you get home. I'll see you tonight." I smiled inwardly, Papa always rambled nowadays, perhaps it was his way of dealing with my mother's death. Kissing him goodbye I left the house and made my way down the dirt track towards the village.
I entered the town and felt like I'd stepped back in time 100 years. The streets were cobbled, something I had hardly ever seen back home, people wandered past me carrying baskets full of fresh bread and other foodstuffs, speaking in rapid French, I could even see a shepherd boy moving his flock through the streets. Shaking my head to myself I headed to the bakery to buy something to eat. Exiting the shop five minutes later with a fresh croissant in hand I started walking slowly towards the school building. As I crossed the square I heard someone wolf-whistle. Trying to ignore it I continued walking towards the building, hoping that whoever was whistling wasn't whistling at me. No such luck, I didn't get five meters before a tall muscle bound guy accosted me.
"Hé, quel est ton nom ?" he asked, while quite obviously checking me out. I rolled my eyes inwardly; things were not going well so far.
"Je m'appelle Belinda. Excusez-moi, je suis en retard." I didn't want to be rude but I wasn't particularly comfortable around this guy. He mumbled something in French that I didn't understand, "Excusez-moi mais je ne parle pas tres bien francais."
"Parle vous anglais?" he asked in a questioning tone.
"Oui. Excusez-moi." Without another word I ducked around the guy, almost running into another small guy that was standing behind him. Excusing myself from him I walked quickly towards the school building. Breathing a sigh of relief I made it into the building without being accosted by anyone else. I wasn't particularly looking forward to today, my first day at a French school. I didn't even speak French that well; I only knew basic phrases from my 7 years of inattention at Primary school in Australia. It wasn't going to be easy.
"Bonjour mademoiselle, comment allez vous?" came a pleasant voice from beside me. I turned to face the source of the voice and found that it belonged to an older man with a kindly face.
"Tres bien merci. Je suis desole mais je ne parle pas tres bien francais."
"Well then I suppose it is a good thing that I speak English," he smiled, "My name is Monsieur Falegnarme, I am the English teacher here."
"Falegnarme? Doesn't that mean carpenter in Italian?"
"I believe it does. Now I also believe that you should go and collect your timetable, although you will probably find that you have English for the first lesson."
"Merci beaucoup, but where would I go to find my timetable."
"Follow me and I will show you." Monsieur Falegnarme turned and walked down the hallway. I followed him through the maze of corridors, thinking to myself that I would never be able to find my way back. Suddenly Monsieur Falegnarme turned off the corridor into a small room. He said something in rapid French that I couldn't understand to the lady standing by the printer who proceeded to pull some papers from a tray on the desk nearby and hand them to me. I murmured my thanks in French and stared down at the timetable in my hands, trying to make sense of it. Monsieur Falegnarme came and took the papers out of my hands. Glancing at them he said,
"I was correct, you have English first lesson, then Mathematics, Physical Education and Art, very lucky for your first day in a French school," I nodded in silent agreement, "Well I suppose you will be quite eager to meet your classmates. Come, they will be in their classroom already." I looked at him in confusion.
"In their classroom? Don't they change classrooms?" Monsieur Falegnarme raised his eyebrows at me.
"Change classrooms? No, they do not change classrooms, they remain in the same classroom for most subjects other than Art, Science and Physical Education." I nodded and fell back into silence. He slowed down and turned into a classroom with a number of students who looked as though they were about the same age as me. Groaning inwardly I noticed that the guy who had accosted me before was also among the students.
"Bonjour Monsieur Falegnarme," the students chorused as they noticed the teacher stride into the room.
"Bonjour. Belinda there is a free seat over there near Gaston if you wish to be seated," Monsieur Falegnarme said, indicating the free seat in front of the obnoxious guy I had met before. Deciding it was better not to argue, I moved quietly towards the free seat and sat down. Monsieur Falegnarme put his briefcase down on the teacher's desk and pulled some worksheets from it.
"Pour aujourd'hui remplissez svp ces feuilles de travail. Si vous avez aucune questionne n'hésite à demander," he said, passing the sheets to one of the students who proceeded to hand them out. I glanced at the sheet as it landed on the desk in front of me and stifled a giggle. I looked questioningly at Monsieur Falegnarme who smiled and said,
"No Belinda you do not have to do this worksheet, I am supposed to teach you French." I smiled back at him and pushed the sheet aside. The other students began murmuring as they pulled pencils and pens from their bags. Monsieur Falegnarme told me to wait a moment and left the room so I sat there, trying not to look completely lost. Suddenly I became aware that behind me someone was whispering. Trying not to look as though I was eavesdropping, although it wouldn't matter if I was because I didn't understand anything they were saying anyway, I trained my hearing on the conversation. I could only pick up a few words here and there, and most of it was too fast for me to understand anyway but I could understand enough to know that Gaston was talking about me.
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A/N - well how was that? This is my second attempt at fanfic so hopefully it's alright. I know it's not a particularly original storyline but hopefully things might change down the track. Please R&R and tell me what you think!
ta darlings, Charlie
P.S. thanks TrudiRose, I now know why everyone loves you so much. After reading your review I changed the encounter with Gaston a bit, hopefully it's better, I'm not particularly good at getting that sort of thing across. And there's a bit more about the reasons for themove from Australia to France in the next chapter... not quite finished but hopefully soon,I get rather impatient with my stories so it might seem a bit rushed.