Carla was 19 years old. Carla was every boy’s dream – golden skin, petite but beautifully proportioned, beautiful teeth and a cheeky smile, bubbly personality and a fun girl to be with. She kept her hair in an urchin cut as it was easy to manage, and it was bleached blonde with the sun, giving her the appearance of a beach tomboy. Her regular attire was ragged cut-off jeans and either a flimsy halter top or tee shirt. It was warm in the South of France. Oh, and she was also highly myopic.
Carla lived with her grandmother, Mimi, and was brought up by her and her father who was a fisherman, and who had died 10 years previously in an accident at sea. She never knew her mother, and never knew the reason why. It was never talked about. Carla and Mimi were very poor and just managed to live on a day-to-day basis in a run-down rented apartment in a back street of Sainte-Maxime on the Côte d’Azur. The landlord kept increasing the rent and Carla kept having to get extra shifts at the corner mini-market where she worked just to pay for the basics. There was never enough money to pay for luxuries like new glasses for Carla. She was still wearing her minus 8.50 glasses from her school days, although she knew she definitely needed a big increase in power. Her wages from the market would never cover the cost after the rent and food was paid for – and her own little guilty pleasure too. She loved her cigarettes. In fact she was unashamedly hopelessly addicted to them and managed to fit a pack into the household budget every few days. She said she would stop soon and save up for new glasses, but not yet. Not ready to give up a good friend yet.
Carla got home from her job on a Friday night and gave her grandma a hello kiss. “Carla, my love, there is something I have to tell you,” she said. “I had a visit today from the owner of the Haven Retirement Home and they have found me a place under the benevolent trust grant which I qualify for. I can move in next Friday.” This came as a shock to Carla. She knew her grandma wanted to go into a residential care home as she was finding it increasingly difficult to manage on her own when Carla was at work. She had fallen a couple of times, the last time ending up in hospital.
Carla spent the next week at work in a state of semi-shock. Her world had been turned upside down. She had no right of tenure on her grandma’s house so she would be homeless. She could never afford a place of her own. Her colleague at work, Claudette, had said she could stay with her until she found somewhere, but it would only be temporary. She smoked even more that week just to calm her nerves, and the market owner gave her a carton of Marlboro Menthols which had been damaged in the shop when something fell on it. She would be able to salvage quite a few packs from it.
She got home at 9 pm on the following Friday night to an empty house. Her grandma had gone to the home that day for good. Carla sat down in her grandma’s chair and cried. She had to take her glasses off, the tears were flowing so fast. She dried her eyes, looked around the blurry room, and put her glasses back on. Then she spotted a note on the coffee table. It was from grandma. She read it with difficulty through the tears. Her Grandma had asked her to clear out the house, and keep anything she wanted. There wasn’t much left, but when she opened the first drawer she spotted a glasses case. It was an old pair of her grandma’s glasses. Her grandma was short sighted just like Carla, but much more so - it ran in the family. Her last prescription had been -13.50 and she wore very thick glasses. These were her glasses from way back in the 70s or 80s. They were fashionable at the time, with oversize lenses and drop temple plastic frames in flesh colour with a reddish hue to the tops of the frames. Carla thought they looked amazing, and she immediately tried them on. Wow! Everything was in razor-sharp clarity. Too clear, in fact! She was taken aback by how sharp the edges were on everything in the room. She looked around her. The lines of the walls and ceiling were slightly curved, and when she moved her head they seemed to follow her a bit. It was strangely exciting, and she had to admit, somewhat arousing. She lit a cigarette and just lounged back enjoying the combined effect of the strong glasses and the nicotine rush. Double wow! Then she found the prescription folded up inside the glasses case. Minus 11.50 in both eyes! A little too strong for her, but so very much better than the old weak ones she had been wearing. She decided there and then that she would wear these glasses from now on.
The next morning she woke up, looked around her in a blurry haze, and put on her grandma’s glasses. Perfect! A perfect world! Now she must go out and try to get her life sorted out. She bought a local newspaper to study the accommodation to let, and started to walk down to the harbour to read it. She spotted a good friend of hers, Paul, who ran boat trips to St Tropez across the bay. “Going across?” he shouted to her. “Hey – love the glasses,” he added, and gave a wolf whistle! “Might as well,” she answered, “nothing else to do.” She climbed into the boat, and they waited for other passengers while Paul approached every tourist walking past and tried to get them to take the trip. After 30 minutes, they had 12 passengers and they set off. It was quite a fast boat, and the ride was always thrilling. Sometimes Paul would let her drive it, which was not strictly legal under his licence, but hey – this was the South of France! She took the wheel, and she couldn’t help noticing the male passengers staring at her. She hoped it was in admiration and not fright, and then she realised they were staring at her glasses. It made her feel good.
When they reached St Tropez, Carla got out of the boat and made her way up the jetty. She decided to go to the local open-air market and buy some fresh fruit and a can of juice, and then go around the harbour looking at the millionaires’ yachts while eating her lunch. Also, she was seeing the place in a whole new crystal clear light today. ‘Boy, I must have really been needing new glasses,’ she thought. It was just amazing. And the admiring glances she got from lots of people gave her a huge boost. ‘Maybe life’s not so bad after all,’ she thought. She sat down on a bollard beside a particularly opulent-looking motor yacht, and thought ‘What would I give for a trip on that!’ She opened her bag of fruit, pulled the tag from the can of juice which exploded out all over her with a loud whoosh because of the heat, and she let out a loud squeal and dropped everything. Then, the most amazing thing happened …….
To be continued.