Anastasiia Mitchell - The Arabian Days

© Anastasiia Deniz Mitchell, 2021

ISBN 978-5-0053-0853-5

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Any person has different feelings, emotions and… fears and complexes. So does the main character of this book, Janet. Moreover, any person has his or her own dreams, as Janet does. She wants to marry a good man, a prince or a knight. She believes in love. The hardest thing for any girl is to find her special someone, and when they hear words of love, they always believe these words.

But what does life give Janet at first? And what does she receive afterwards? Believe it or not, but Janet will be grateful for everything that has happened to her. So, read on and take a dive into the midst of Janet’s thoughts and emotions. You either will or will not understand the main character. Anyway, every person is unique, and aren’t you?

Enjoy the book!

Always yours,

Anastasiia Deniz Mitchell

13 September 1972

From: Mohammed

To: Janet

Dear Janet,

I’m so happy to have met you! How are you?

I’m constantly repeating to myself how beautiful you are! Your eyes, your voice, your face… I’m recalling the days we were together, you and me, me and you. When will you come here again? I’m waiting for you! It seems like I’ve fallen in love with you. No, I really have! I really have! My dear, sweet Janet, for how long shall I wait for you? Maybe I could even come to you, to look into your blue, deep blue eyes?

Please, come here in Agadir as soon as you can!

Oh, my Janet, I’m also waiting for your answer!

With a lot of love,

Mohammed

1.

That was the first letter I received from him. It was so nice! I’d say it was lovely. How I admired him..! And how nicely he was writing!

Well, it seems like I haven’t introduced myself so far. My name’s Janet Grace…

So, maybe, I’ll tell you more things about me a bit later: I’m already being late for my classes!

14 September 1972

I’m a second-year student. A design one. In University of London. On having only one friend, I can say that it’s better than none, but still, it’s better than a lot of friends. They can be fake anyway. Not false but fake ones. I’m not a translator. Although I’d love to have a degree in Translation and Interpretation, or at least study for it. Why am I a designer student? Because if I were to choose between translation and design, I’d pick the latter. You know how prestigious it is to be a designer nowadays! You can make a lot of money just in a wink!

Mum says I’m not obliged to earn a lot. But I think I am. Again, why? Because how else may you prove you’re a good one? And you’re not a loser? And you’re better than your friends who already have a family, though hypothetically? I wouldn’t put up with that.

The classes today were boring. But well, there’ll be other ones, much more interesting! It’s the design department anyway! The today’s lectures were: Art and Design History, Graphic Media, and Architecture History. Only lectures! I wonder what I’ll feel like when I have only seminars left!

Anyway, after the classes I got home. I still live at home with my Mum. So what? I’m not able to rent a flat somewhere on the outskirts of London! Or… Well, it takes me a little to get to Mum’s house. Thank God for that. To be honest, I don’t know how to rent a flat alone or share it with someone Oh, strangers! They can be evil. They can cause harm to me. They can take something from me. Though I hoped they wouldn’t kill me because I believe I’m a good person. And I don’t cause harm to anyone. I just don’t want it.

15 September 1972

What a beautiful city London is! It’s a pure enjoyment to view all its landscapes, and every tree, and every building, and every stone… Of course, when you’re busy. Because when you’re not, you’re going to hate it all. And when I’m busy, I start to think about Mohammed. My Mohammed. All the time. Whenever I read his first letter, I’m over the moon. Although how can I go to space? I’m not an astronaut anyway!..

I always recall how I met Mohammed. It was in the summer, in Agadir, Morocco, when Mum and me were off for our holiday.

2.

23 July 1972

Agadir, Morocco

If only you knew how I like holidays! You can relax for the whole holiday period and not even say a word. And the most interesting thing is that no one’s going to scold you for that! Holidays are intended for you to relax fully and forget about everything. And forget everything. Even your name…

No studies. No university. Yes, studying’s a hard toil. You must make yourself get up early in the morning, for you to arrive at this or that class (note – on time!!!) and show yourself by answering all the teacher’s questions. Not during one class – during them all! A hard toil it is, yes.

What about the campus cafeteria? To be honest, I’m greedy enough to spend a pound more than necessary. So, I force myself to economize, whereas other students spend a fortune to dine. I’m jealous because of that.

And now – holidays! No other students! No cafeteria! You can eat everything for free! Wait, not for free – Mum’s paid it all. So, I need to economize here as well.

Well, yes, I adore travelling. I remember the day when Mum and me were off for another holiday. It was three years ago from now. We took a bus tour to France.

And there was a man who had a birthday that day. We all clubbed together to buy a cake for him. We needed to please him somehow, especially on that day!

Men love food. They love cakes as much. So we thought it’ be a good idea to buy a big cake for him.

And guess what! The cake fell on his head when the bus was jolting along the twist mountain road in France! Fortunately, it was in the box, so he didn’t get dirty with the cream. But the cake wasn’t the cake already: it was a MASH-mellow..!

So, during the flight to Morocco, I ate the portions for two people. But Mum got her food. It means someone else was left without their portion.

Anyway, we were arriving at the airport. It seemed to me it was really hot even inside the plane.

I saw almost nothing outside the window when flying. Maybe I should’ve broken the window glass and poked my head out of the window. But if I’d broken the glass, I’d have been considered a law-breaker!

What’s more, someone let in a fly when we were getting on the board.

So, it had been travelling with us for the whole flight! A fly traveller! The so-called amateur traveller! It’d go around the world forever… Lucky fly! And my trip would come to an end sooner or later.

So hot outside! I wanted to take off my T-shirt. But Mum said, «You have nothing put on you but this T-shirt.» Indeed! I had to put up with the high temperature of both the air and my body. I hoped I wasn’t ill.

Our hotel was called «Paradise». What does it mean? It means it’s not like a paradise but something similar. I had to look more closely into it. Maybe it was really a paradise.

And it really was! The shining hall walls. The magnificent rooms. And I’d have it all for two weeks!

We got our keys and came into the lift.

The first thing I wanted to do after I took a shower was to go to the beach. And so we did. Mum wanted this as well. Especially if I hadn’t been to the beach for more than a year.

Last year, we travelled to Torquay. It wasn’t that hot there. Neither was there a lot of sun. It was near to impossible to sunbathe there, so I got almost no tan.