Heiress in Distress

•Chapter 6•

•Word Count: 2,080

After my constructive meeting with Principal Raymond, the head of a Public French High School in the vicinity, four days ago, he suggested that it would be a lot more convenient to enrol on International Schooling, since French is not my mother tongue.

He didn't stop at that; he put me in contact with one of his comrades, Principal Édouard, the head of an International School only a block or two away from my place.

Even Principal Édouard, who easily weaved his way into my heart through his uplifting comments about my French proficiency, thought attending a school with English made its main language a better idea both language mastery and certification compatibility with my previous educational levels wise.

Which is why I'm currently sitting at the edge of one of the two sadie chairs situated at the opposite side of his desk, listening to Principal Édouard's childhood story, when he first moved here from the states with his family.
Quite inspirational and heartening, though I'd much rather be in class right now.

I have to swallow the sigh of relief when his secretary saunters over with something in her hand, presumably my schedule, and I almost reach over, disrespectfully crossing the principal, to grab it from her.
I remain calmly seated, however, as she extends the schedule over to the principal.

He informs me that the pupils are already three weeks into the semester but tells me not to worry because my case is justifiable since public schools, which I was meant to attend, don't start until next week.

•••

There's enough money in the account my parents left me and Élise to last us a few years, but an International school, coasting a fortune a year -a subtle blow to the budget- was not part of the plan.

I still need to conserve a sufficient sum for Élise's college; I've learned the hard way that one must never remain dependent, for some things as evil as aliveness are unreliable.

After studying the guide Cynthia gave me on my first day, I learned that employees acquire credit congruent with their performance during working hours.
Accompanying the statement is a side note, stating that credits are doubled for overtime.

When I introduced the idea to Cynthia and volunteered to work extra hours every night to either finish cleaning up or prepare for the next day, she pointed out that my working hours would already be curtailed, owing to my absence for the first 8 hours after opening, and I am to cover up if I expect my remuneration to be paid in full by the end of the month.

Luckily, though, because none of the staff ever stays longer than closing time, she promised to pay me in full -double credit included- if she notices significant augmentation to performance during working hours.

On parting, two days later, Cynthia informed me that she has noticed quite the advancement; no delay in orders since pastries were being prepared the night before, no staff congestion in the kitchen doing both ministering to customer's orders and cleaning, owing to my dedicated cleaning schedule, and most importantly, there's always a small sticky note on the side of the cash register with the necessary reports, which I write down after counting the register.

It's my third night, and I'm doing the same daily tasks; cleaning espresso and coffee grinders, wrapping up unserved pastries and labelling them with the date from the previous night, preparing most food for the next morning, washing dishes and mopping the floors, and thorough cleaning with sanitiser.

The clock reads 2:00 AM by the time I've finished; a lot belated than usual, owing to the fact that today was unearthly busy compared to any other day I've worked here.
I can almost hear my body disapproving of the imminent sleep deprivation, as I remind myself that I have to wake up at 7:00 AM.