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Publié par | Troubador Publishing Ltd |
Date de parution | 28 juin 2022 |
Nombre de lectures | 0 |
EAN13 | 9781803139623 |
Langue | English |
Poids de l'ouvrage | 2 Mo |
Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0100€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.
Extrait
Copyright © 2022 Brooke Adams
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Matador
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Harrison Road, Market Harborough,
Leicestershire. LE16 7UL
Tel: 0116 279 2299
Email: books@troubador.co.uk
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ISBN 9781803139623
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Matador® is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd
For Geoff, with much love
Wholeness is not achieved by cutting off a portion of one’s being,
but by integration of the contraries.
Carl Jung.
Contents
I
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
II
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
III
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
IV
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
I
One
An endless row of tall porticoes arched into the distance. Elizabeth observed the way the light fell under each one as her thoughts lingered on the life she had left behind. She had no idea how things were going to work out here in Bologna, but she knew as she walked across Piazza Maggiore that she was determined to move on with her life. The tall bronze statue of the famous Nettuno, holding his legendary trident high in the air towered over the fountain, and water gushed noisily from the urns of the surrounding cherubs. The piazza was close to the university district where she was headed. Elizabeth was utterly enchanted by the ancient architecture that shaped the city, as she passed by its historical palazzos, conservatorios and accademie.
Elizabeth Miller was a bibliophile and always had been. As a child, her parents would read to her at bedtime taking her on huge voyages and intrepid adventures across magical lands. These experiences had captured her imagination and instilled a love for literature deep within her and as she’d grown up, her enthusiasm for books had only deepened. Myth and legend became her greatest loves, and she went on to study Classics and Literature at York University where she was a book reviewer for the magazine and ran the student book club.
On leaving university, Elizabeth was offered a post as an English literature teacher at a very prestigious girls’ school in the city of York. The first couple of years were quite a challenge as she learned to prepare lessons and acquired teaching experience, but Elizabeth soon got into the groove and within three years had become an important and popular member of the English literature department. Now, as Elizabeth approached her thirty-fifth year, nothing had seemed to change. Her friends were getting married, moving home, changing careers, and it was beginning to dawn on her that she had still not found the right vocation nor met the right man. She’d had a serious relationship with Luke while at university which had lasted over three years, but they were only twenty when they met and although he had been her first love, by the time they reached their final year, they had already started going in different directions. Since then, Elizabeth had dated a few guys, but nothing had endured. The fact was that she had not been truly in love for years, not since Luke.
Elizabeth was growing restless and knew that there was more to life than this. It was no good going on a two-week holiday hoping to feel completely refreshed when she got back. It was time to make some real changes. It felt as if the adventure of her life hadn’t really begun, she’d fallen into situations and mingled with lots of people, enjoyed a successful career and been on quite a few holidays with her friends to glamorous resorts in her twenties. This time things were different and the ennui that plagued her gave her the strength to push forward into new terrain.
Amanda, Elizabeth’s best friend, had suggested that she go and live abroad for a year or two (as long as she could come and visit, of course) ; somewhere she could continue to teach or work with literature in some way, so that she’d have the opportunity to meet people and explore new towns and cities. Elizabeth liked the idea and knew that Amanda must be right since the thought of starting yet another academic year in York made her feel depressed. Over the spring and summer months, Elizabeth researched possibilities. She knew that she wanted to stay in Europe. Eventually, her persistence paid off and she had narrowed down her options to Italy and France where there was a demand for English teachers.
In early May, Elizabeth spotted that Bologna University was advertising for an intermediate English literature teacher for their adult-education language students. It was a year-long contract, starting in September. The pay was reasonable, and accommodation was included. At first Elizabeth felt a little unsure but once she’d done some online research on the city, her decision was made. It was the oldest university in Europe, it was quite an alternative city with many left-wing students, and the architecture was stunning. The location was perfect too, situated less than an hour from so many other interesting cities like Florence, Siena, Urbino, and Pisa.
It was on another lonely Friday night towards the end of the school term that Elizabeth went onto the Bologna University website and applied for the job. She filled out the application form and, as she had already prepared her documents, now all she had to do was upload her certificates and diplomas. Elizabeth poured herself a large glass of Chianti and sat on her sofa for a few minutes before deciding. ‘ Am I really going to up sticks and leave? Just set off to a new country all alone where I don’t know a soul?’ Elizabeth stared into space thoughtfully. The usual awful Friday night TV show burst onto her screen. The lights and colours on the stage were so bright and garish and it was in that mind-numbing moment that she knew that there must be more to life than this. She rose from the sofa. The decision was made, and she confidently clicked ‘send’.
Two
In less than a month, and after a couple of telephone interviews, Elizabeth received a reply and couldn’t believe her luck! She was over the moon as she read the first sentence of her letter informing her that she had got the job. Now that she was approaching her mid-thirties and having finished her MA a couple of years ago, at last somebody had given her the chance to teach in a more interesting way. Literature was what she knew about, and her life had always been academic. All that mattered right now was that she would be starting her new career as an English literature teacher next month. The past was beginning to feel more distant already and Elizabeth’s future lay before her.
Elizabeth walked along Via Zamboni under a bright summer sun, to the Archiginnasio, a grand sixteenth century building housing the faculties of modern languages, philosophy, law, economics, and the sciences. It contained a humongous collection of books in the library encompassing a myriad of subjects from L’Antica Grecia to I filosofi del Rinascimento. As she entered the building and climbed the grand staircase, she peered through various glass doors and marvelled at the walls richly furnished with antiquated books and dark oak panelling. Bold heraldic shields decorated the elegant columns along the corridor leading to her new classroom and office. Although it was small, the wide arched windows looking out onto a tranquil ornate courtyard made up for it. Her desk ran along the length of the window. Curriculum textbooks had been piled there ready for her first lesson. She felt grateful to be living in a city so saturated in art and culture. A million questions ran through her mind. ‘Will I be able to do the job? Will the students understand a word of what I’m saying? Will I end up back home in tears within three weeks?’
Elizabeth wandered down the corridor to a kitchenette and made herself a black coffee, then heard busy footsteps approaching. It was one of the morning cleaners:
“ Buongiorno Signora Miller .” A stout young lady greeted her with a smile as she dragged the vacuum cleaner along.
“ Buongiorno ,” Elizabeth replied, taken by surprise.
“ Benvenuti alla scuola,” she said warmly, her eyes sparkling with kindness.
“ Grazie.” Elizabeth smiled. “ Mi chiamo Elizabeth. E lei?”
“ Piacere.” They shook hands. “ Mi chiamo Maria Grazia.”
Elizabeth walked back to her office, sat down at her desk with her strong coffee, and had a look at the register. Some names were Italian, some French, others sounded more Germanic. She was looking forward to teaching a new set of adult students. Although she was quite reserved by nature, English literatur
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