Everything Changed

By Elisabeth Gree

Join a woman’s journey in Everything Changed - a story of a young woman who thought she had it all figured out. From fulfilling a childhood dream to living in her desired city, everything changed with a chance encounter that redirected her life. Reality and imagination collide as the protagonist navigates the complexities of life with boundless imagination. Get ready to be captivated by a tale of life, love, and the unpredictable turns of fate.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Mar 31, 2023
• ISBN: 9781398464254

Elisabeth Gree

A daydreamer struggling to concentrate. Whenever someone wants her to do something, she’ll do the complete opposite. This book is for her, for once, and for people that aren’t as free as they should be. Writing is only possible in public, the virus didn’t help at all. Shall we all get back to normal, in good health. E.

Book preview

About the Author

A daydreamer struggling to concentrate. Whenever someone wants her to do something, she’ll do the complete opposite. This book is for her, for once, and for people that aren’t as free as they should be.

Writing is only possible in public, the virus didn’t help at all. Shall we all get back to normal, in good health. E.

Dedication

To my daughters, who accept my dreams. To the cities of London and Paris who stimulate my writing capacities each time and for smiling back at me, even in the rain. 

Copyright Information ©

Elisabeth Gree 2023

The right of Elisabeth Gree to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, 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.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781398464247 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781398464254 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published 2023

Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd®

1 Canada Square

Canary Wharf

London

E14 5AA

I was living a perfect life, living underground, not being seen by anyone, not being noticed…my biggest fear. I wanted to continue that way as long as possible but then one day everything changed.

Growing up…I had always been the heavier one or the slow runner ­­– all the way throughout my childhood and my teenage years. I suffered a childhood drama, which I realised only as an adult, I had forgotten it, even if I was feeling that something was wrong.

Being overweight has always protected me, kept me away from harassment, from men, from being possibly attractive but even from my own happiness.

I have always been an outsider in my own family, left in a corner, comforted but never pushed to do better. I was told to be mediocre and to be happy with it.

Don’t get me wrong, I had a free childhood and by free, I mean the one you can get by growing up in a little village in the countryside, where everyone knows everyone and you run around most of the time barefooted and come back home dirty before dinner, free not to carry a watch and having to hear the church bell sing to realise that it was time to go home, free to sometimes steal and eat fruit or vegetable from a neighbourhood farm even if they were still ripe, free by having to look for a secret spot to pee as you were too far away from home. I was so free that I sometimes forgot that there were rules in life, school, parents, brothers, streets and cars. I also dreamed throughout my childhood; those dreams changed but I cannot recollect them time wise. I cannot tell you if it changed the perception or of everyone else around me but the change itself had started.

My room was my safe haven, my planet, my boat on high sea, my oxygen on a dusty day, those open arms in a time without love.

There was a secret I would not tell, a secret I then so much pushed away that I forgot it even existed. I bet you know the sensation, for instance that moment when you realise that the THING you had put in a secret place under a pile of books or rocks, trying to avoid anyone to find it, was so well-hidden that even you would not find it again, ever. And this is what I did. I buried it very very deep in my soul, hidden from the outside world, from any suspicious eye, from any chance to be found. Have you ever found a buried treasure that a child had hidden 30, 40 or 50 years later? Now it was my time to dig down deep.

Childhood had passed as fast as a blink of an eye, as quick as a fighter plane passing by, as noisy and as unexpected, even if time doesn’t seem to pass when you are in it, that’s normal.

Friendships coloured this period of time, as good as possible, I had so many cool childhood friends…about 20 regular, minimum, then there were those from school, which didn’t change much, primary school lasted 5 years and then we were mixed up with other villages for the next 4 years, which just meant to have more friends from the surrounding villages. Friendships and moments with friends were everything, life and friends were the same world, I had so many of them and as strange as it may sound, there were no besties. I had favourite ones but there were no secrets, everyone knew everything as it was, as said, in a small village, so if you ever did something wrong, either you assumed your stupidity or you moved away or had to go to another school if possible…ooops.

My teenage years changed that I made up my mind for some of them had my preferences. I started working (apprentice) by the age of 15 and then again change happened, class mates changed and I changed as well.

I always wanted to live underground, I always wanted to be alone, I always wanted my own place. The walls had to be red or blue, don’t ask me why.

In my over-ground life on the other side, I had some animals to take care of, in this world I wouldn’t, I don’t like taking care of them, I find it such a huge responsibility. If it would have been possible, I would have loved to be overweight for the outside world and skinny when I was alone, I would have disappeared, I would have attempted my dream being unseen.

I have had these visions of my project of a parallel life since sometimes now but I was looking for a longer period of time for the good spot, a place which I could disappear into without being noticed. The place I would find should be easy to join even if hidden. It should be silent and forbidden for anyone, not even for the few people who counted in my life. This place would have the ability to turn my problems off, give me ideas, it would have given myself my own freedom. It would have given me time to think and think about me, write, listen to my own breathing, listen to the sounds in my head.

This place would mean no intrusion from the exterior, the place would be complicated to enter to, it would be sealed, codes and facial recognition would have been necessary, although that would mean that someone had to install it and they would know where it is…or…I could put them a bandage when arriving and when they were leaving, sounds complicated. Ah, yes…they would have to sign a life-long non-secret-sharing-contract. The way they do it when working at a famous person house and aren’t allowed to tell…how?

Anyway, my opposite life was born or inseminated, which meant that I had the idea but had to deliver now. I had no clue where it would be nor how I would install it but it had to happen, it was becoming urgent.

In the past years I had replaced or fulfilled this sensation not only with chocolate but also by travelling, disappearing in an unknown city was one of my hobbies. As a frequent traveller, I do everything very late, unplanned, unpredicted, unknown, unsaid and mostly unaccompanied, I love it. I love to feel the loneliness before it arrives, it teases me and it doesn’t let me alone, weird, I know.

To me, loneliness is resistance, loneliness is tolerance to myself, loneliness is not killing me.

To fell asleep as an adult I need to start a possible story, a possible dream, which either continues on or fades into another or disappears. As a child I had to think about my day, I had always so much fun until everything changed one day.

I was happy, I had plans, I had dreams, I had hopes, I was hungry for the future, hungry for a change, hungry to get out of that village, hungry to discover other people and other places, hungry for life.

After childhood the relation between my brother and my father changed. There was no communication, nothing particular happened. They just didn’t understand each other anymore, the generation gap could be touched. My brother closed his room door from one day to another, he locked himself in and no visitors were allowed anymore, not even our mother. Fortunately, his music taste was good so even if it was sometimes loud, I liked what I heard.

I have always been a dreamer, mostly with open eyes, which complicated my school years as I was there but was kind of absent ­– there but not there. Concentration was not always possible. Luckily for me, my grades weren’t too bad so my parents wouldn’t notice it.

Seeking loneliness arrived after becoming a mother, I had the days when I felt 100% energy and others were, I could do 2% of what I would have to. Motherhood fucked me up, motherhood changed the things I had loved for years, it changed my way of thinking by 360° but that was not what had changed everything, that was motherhood, a feeling of loneliness but so much responsibility, so much pressure and no family around to help and no courage to ask for, other mothers will understand it for sure.

I had arrived at that point in adulthood where my kids had grown up, where I had so much more freedom and time to think that it was the moment to start looking for my refuge, now, it was becoming urgent.

I was and still am living in London near Notting hill in a small but cosy flat and love my neighbours as much as you can love people you do not choose to live next to you. Relations can sometimes be shaky or misunderstood, sometimes they become part of your family, sometimes you do not see them for weeks and then one day you need salt or butter and there you go again, talking and telling impossible stories and listen to theirs.

London is the perfect city for me and my character. I tried NYC but we didn’t match.

I had a place in mind one day after seeing a movie to hide myself in a theatre or museum roof top where I could see everything but not be seen, ideal. I had looked some places up and even encountered some outsiders doing the same as me, living nicely hidden and doing whatever they wanted, the difference to me is that I didn’t want to live in it, only disappear sometimes, hide away, just a little.

In those encounters I was surprised by the diversity of the people, they were not all poor, nor homeless. Some of them owned the places they were staying in, the places were clean, nice and welcoming.

I couldn’t imagine myself living 100% on the surface anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I need oxygen, sun, grass, people as much as others do but…I need MY place, MY space, not to be shared with anyone. For me it would like to live in my secret diary, writing my own story, my own sentences, my own pages, my own way.

One thing I would love to do for sure, once I would have found the place, it would be start from scratch. I would have to empty it completely, not even a lamp, a box or a mirror would lie around, then I would paint it all in white like a blank.

Adulthood started quite early as I started an apprentice at the age of 15, 60% work and 40% school. I liked it as I was in a factory which produced articles from scratch, so I was able to see all steps quite rare those days.

Adulthood meant to me entering in a kind of weird hypnosis feeling, running through new realities, taking logic decision, meeting someone, having sex, meeting my future husband, marrying, having kids…everything I had to do, running against time and duties, seeking for money and not for freedom, this is a big mistake but we all do that sooner or later. I have friends in their 40s who were never married nor had kids and they sometimes feel ashamed…they really shouldn’t. We all follow a certain path, our own and we do our best.

And then it all changed, even meanings, colours looked different, sound were squeakier and all smell were weirder.

How I think it all went:

I was living in a little apartment at the rear of a building with a separate garden at the back. My next door neighbour is Italian and has birds on his balcony, the concierge is Polish and his wife an incredible cook and because of her my weight would increase. In the apartment next to mine there is an Australian guy with his Russian girlfriend, a sweet young couple, they are both at university.

On the first floor the elderly couple from Scotland have a furry friend named kittycat which comes sometimes to my apartment and we cuddle a lot and as I feed her when they are away, she is quite used to me.

There is also a sweet family from Pakistan, I looove their company in my life, they are so real, as spicy as their culture and food are, Rasheed and Tahira with their baby girl Nadia and the three years old Reza.

The Jamaican lad on the third floor, I believe works at night at the moment as he comes home in the morning. I love the way he speaks English, it really sounds like music and sun even if his job is very stressful (nurse) and really not easy he is always smiling, bless him. I hope my music isn’t bothering him to much today.

The little grocery shop I usually go to belongs to a Lebanese family. Their daughter Mouna is beautiful (as much as her mom), she is smart and multilingual (Arabic, French and English of course), I die when she looks at me with her dark brown eyes, I lose myself in them. "Mouna, ana bahebak."

Commuting to work is nice. I hop on the bus line 63, even if it gets me in late usually, the view from the roof top is amazing as I enter the city centre. My part-time job is near Covent Garden, not far from the school where once my cousin, Jaqueline, worked.

My spare time is filled by looking in and out of London for the good spot for my project and with a lot of writing and as usual I’m a little back on track as I took some delay in my actual book, I had to move to the apartment I am staying in now.

I needed a spare room for my girls even if they do not come as often as I wish, they are adults and living their own lives.

Their dad, my ex, is with his wife in Zurich. They are married and have a 5 years old son, the son he didn’t get from me, wish them luck, I hope he will be less absent in the early parenthood time as he was with me.

The best part of this different life of mine is to share some of my time with a gorgeous gentleman originally from Cape town, his name is Keith and I never would have expected to ‘be in love’ with someone again, someone who makes me smile and holds me really tight when I need it. I missed that the most, being held.

He is father of three grownups, Annie, Liam and Paul. He is grand-pa, since a year, of a little beautiful baby boy, Zachary.

I love the fact that even if nothing is easy in life, my life seems easier to me now. He changed it all…

Keith is a funny chap. He has his life and I have mine but his smile helps me going on happily. He wears medium-long-hair, dark blond, he actually has a surfer look with the body that belongs to it and a huge heart and a real smile and when he wears a tuxedo…ohhhh myyy Gooooood…

The BEST part of him is that there are no lies, we tell each other only the truth, a little more than a genuine friendship, something I have never had. My ex had made me a mother figure, he had given me a tag…a tag he put on my back once and was happy that I entertained it. I followed the road he gave me, it was not mine, I became overweight, was unhappy, couldn’t sleep but fortunately this is now history.

Keith plays the electric guitar sometimes and I love to see him play; could do it for hours.

We don’t live together, his job sends him a lot around the world but he is mostly based in NYC. Well, he lives with me when his comes over.

I was not sure for a long time that we had each other exclusively as he is very handsome and has a great career. We share the same ideas about being a modern and independent couple. There is neither digging, nor criticising each other’s life, only when it’s really needed, I listen and he does it too.

He is his own boss. Well, he has a business partner and they are equal owners. He shares a company that provides fresh food. He is a huge believer in local food, in local grocery stores and restaurants.

He started his business in Central Europe and this made us met by travelling a few times. We looked at each other like people that had already seen one another but didn’t know each other.

One day while waiting at the gate in London-city airport, I was waiting to fly to Marrakesh and he was leaving to Rome and were sitting on the same chair bench. I was talking in Swiss German on the phone to a friend.

When I finished my call, he talked to me about the fact that my earlier call was in another language and he wanted to know how on earth I would speak more than one language as he is still struggling with his own mother tongue. He made me laugh.

I answered that yes, I could speak five of them and that I was learning the sixth but that I was very bad in mathematics and geographies, unfortunately, which could also help sometimes.

My flight was called and I had to leave him. That was the second time we had noticed each other. But we didn’t exchange our numbers, not yet…stay tuned.

A few months passed, I then met him again in Zurich at the beginning of summer.

This time we were taking the same flight back to London. He was coming from Turkey and myself from a few days in Ticino. I had planned to take a flight out of Milan but he got cancelled and they ‘fortunately’ planned me on another journey, was it faith, luck…or destiny.

We started talking…

I am not used to talking to someone that looks directly into my eyes. It scares me and his eyes were scary. I loved the fact that he was drinking a big cappuccino as it gave him a milk moustache. He had a nice beard and moustache, it suited him and I told him by complimenting him. I made him blush…I’ve met a sensitive man…looks like some of them still existed.

On the journey we were sitting next to each