Days of Survival

7 days, Southern France

Lydia stood completely still in her room, eyes closed and breathed slowly through her nose. The sweet aroma of breakfast being made entered along with air. She sighed and looked around. The bed was made and the floors as clean as they were before she moved in there. Her clothes neatly folded and carefully stacked in the grey suitcase on her bed. She took a few more rounds in the room to be sure she didn't forget anything. Not a thing lay strewn over the room, not an evidence of a person living here remained. The dust in the corners gone and the towels folded over the iron bars. Lydia pressed down the handle on the door and slowly pulled. It didn't open, it was locked, just like Lydia wanted it. She opened the big oak wardrobe and loosened a false panel in the bottom of it. Below was a small box made out of ivory, a gift to a beautiful young woman lending her body to a man without money. He repaid her with the box and promised she would cherish it forever and she did. At the moment it was filled with money and some jewellery. It contained enough money to last for a year if not more. Lydia withdrew the box carefully so she wouldn't break it. It wasn't fragile not at all, on the contrary it was durable and wasn't easy to break. It just felt fragile and delicate when holding it. Lydia packed it down in her suitcase and put the panel back. She unlocked the door and left her room. Within hours five or more strangers would be cramped in here.

 

The reception lay quiet except from Hélèna sitting by her computer, hammering on the buttons just like the morning before. A coffee cup lay on the table next to her, held company by four others on the floor, forgotten beneath countless papers. A pair of bloodshot eyes met Lydia when she reached the desk.

"Thank god you're here. I need all the help I can get" Hélèna said and tried to smile. Before it could be established the corner of her mouth fell again. She leaned back allowing the chair absorb the fall before bouncing her right back up.

"You would do the same," Lydia said and smiled. She lifted her suitcase from the ground, "My room's empty, where can I put the bag?"

"Terrific. You can leave the suitcase in my room where you'll be staying. Second door to the left," she said and pointed at the door marked with the words Private.

 

"So, let's get started shall we?" Lydia said and caught her hair and out it in a tight ponytail. "Firstly you need to clean up and sort everything. How can you find anything in this mess? If the military is coming with hundreds, maybe thousands of regular people you need to have order."

"I know."

"So out of the way. Go and get some rest, you look like hell. You really do and you'll need it." With a nod Hélèna left, her tiredness embracing her. Lydia got started immediately. She begun with the papers on the floor. In the beginning she read every single paper before putting it in piles. In an hour she had only managed to get through a dozen. The army would arrive in hours, time was running away. The clock on the wall above her head moved relentlessly in silence.  

 

The pointers on the clock told the room it was twelve o'clock with a small sound, indicating the middle of the day. What once had been a work place looking like a hurricane went through it now seemed clean and in order. Each paper was neatly piled in to stacks, not a single paper were where it shouldn't be.

The landscape of dust beneath the desk had been driven away by the vacuum cleaner, revealing the floor in all its colour. Lydia smiled and sat down in the chair. She sunk down as it absorbed her weight and adjusting. She looked over the neat working area, proud of her work. It had taken her a long time but it had been worth it. She leaned back and closed her eyes and just let go of everything. She left the room and hid in the hallways of her brain. Tiredness fell upon her, she breathed deeply and welcomed it.