The Penny Thief

Chapter 3

                                                            3

            Valérie was finishing breakfast, dreamily and half asleep. Today was a big day—she had at last agreed to her boyfriend Naël introducing her to his family. They’d been living together for two years and despite some ups and downs things seemed to be moving forward.

            She came from a liberal Catholic family. Catholics by family tradition, though nobody went to church or was shocked when a non-conformist criticized the Church. Each to their own with their life and beliefs!

            But on Naël’s side the situation was different. His family was devoutly Jewish. He had tested the ground rather indelicately, explaining that the Jewish religion is passed down on the mother’s side, that he was very close to his family, and that he didn’t want to make them suffer. But Valérie didn’t want to jump through hoops, whether they were Catholic or Jewish, and rebelled as the good warrior that she was. She would only accept a civil marriage.

            She had agreed to meet Naël’s family, caving in after much insistence, and because her parents had told her this wouldn’t commit her to anything but at least that way she would bring some peace to the atmosphere in the in-laws’ family.

            She didn’t know what was going to happen, Naël had spoken to her a lot about them: what they were like, what was convenient to say or not say, what subjects were taboo. In fact, he had gone directly to his parents house on Friday after work to prepare the ground, and she was taking the 8:45 TGV[1] to Lyon. They would return together that night after spending the day with them.

            The bells of Saint Jean de Montmartre brought her back to reality.

            “Damn, it’s seven, if I miss the train all hell will break loose, thank goodness my suitcase is packed and I’ve already bought the ticket,” thought Valérie, finishing off her cup of tea. She ran to the bathroom.

            Five minutes later she was at the door of the elevator, suitcase in hand. She would put on a bit of makeup on the train. But very little, because Naël’s parents didn’t like girls wearing too much makeup. Good job that Lyon was far away.

            Five minutes later she was unlocking her scooter, she planned to leave it in the motorbike parking space opposite the station.

            Moments later a very loud red rocket, driven by a Valérie running late to catch her train, thundered across the Rue des Trois Frères.

She eased off the gas as she crossed Rue Ravignan just in case a vehicle was approaching, unlikely on a Sunday at this time in the morning.

            For a fraction of a second, her eyes caught the gleam of the sunrays on the gold-covered dome of Les Invalides. “Paris is so great!” she thought, looking back to the road.

[1] TGV High velocity train, 2 hours Paris to Lyon.