By Evie Lyn and Adam Zasse
To the best of our knowledge this story it true. Karen Cassidy herself told us the story and offered her personal insights. We spoke to Celestine Lunete by telephone and confirmed the details. Karen and Celestine live together in Toulon. The authors welcome your comments. We will pass on comments, questions and messages to Karen and Celestine.
Toulon is a mid size city in the south of France on the Mediterranean coast It is west of Cannes, Nice and Monaco. It is situated on one of the best a natural anchorage in the area. The harbor water is very calm due to the protection of the Saint Mandrier peninsula. Toulon is a major naval base and home to the French Mediterranean fleet. Mount Faron is located north of the city and offers a spectacular view of the city and harbor. The road to the top is impressive, as are the cable cars.
Clyde Bennett Ltd is a research company based in London England, with branch offices throughout Europe and two cities in the United States. The Toulon office is on rue Adolphe Guiol. C.B.Ltd. in Toulon is contracted to the French government to provide research and analysis of materials and facilities used by the French navy. The offices are staffed primarily with men. Most are British specialists and support personnel. There are also two American analysts, and one French researcher, all women, working on the current projects.
I filled out the application just like most of the employees in the Atlanta office. There have been other openings from time to time and it was almost a routine to take a chance. I was surprised when I was called into the director's office for an interview. I was even more surprised a day later when I was given a plane ticket to London for a second interview at the main officers. The flight was uneventful, the interview was anything but. Two of the managers, a lady from public relations and a lady from human resources took turns grilling me. I've had more pleasant experiences. They went over my application and resume line by line. They questioned my education (I have a BS in Environmental Science and a MS in Predictive Analytics. They asked about my social activities (I'm single), and about the responses from my references. The interview lasted several hours and I was quite exhausted when they finally let me leave. The site manager gave me the 'we'll let you know' speech and had a car drive me back to Heathrow. Why, oh why did I ever think working for the Brits was going to be easy? But life has a way of guiding your destiny I guess. It was almost two weeks before I was called into the director's office again back home in Atlanta.
"I'm sorry to have to do this Miss Cassidy. You've been an asset and speaking for the entire staff, we're going to miss you." Director Philip Clark said as he handed me a large sealed packet.
"Am I being let go?" I asked.
"In a manner of speaking, yes." The director said.
"Inside your packet you will find a travel voucher which should tide you over for a few weeks. There is also an open ended British Airways ticket. You'll have to change planes at Heathrow but it's only an hour or so delay. The rest of the material is background on your new assignment. By the way, how's your French." He said smiling.
"My French?" I asked.
"You're going to Toulon. You got the job." The director said, smiling broadly. "HR will help you with your apartment here and find something temporary for you in Toulon until you can find a place and get settled. We'll ship any of your things that you want to take with you."
The next few days practically flew by. I had to sublet my apartment and put most of my things in storage. I packed what I needed and shipped several cartons to the offices in Toulon. The flight to Heathrow was pleasant enough, but the connecting flights to Orly and then to Hyeres in Toulon were late, bumpy and in one instance, rude. I'll have to get used to the French. I was met at the airport and driven to the offices which turned out to be a modern three story complex east of the harbor.
The District Manager, John Quince, showed me around and introduced me to more people than I could remember. My office was, unfortunately near the back of the second floor. The view of Mount Faron was interesting, but only from the front offices. I was close to the elevator to the basement where the labs were, so that was convenient. The only other American woman in the office was Diana Martin. She was more an office manager and 'house mother' than a researcher. Diana was in her late fifties. She took time to walk with me the several short blocks to the apartment that HR had arranged for me. It was actually pretty nice and I eventually wound up leasing it instead of looking for some place else.
My first day working I started a project that kept me going from my computer down to the lab several times. By the end of that first day I was tired. I was still trying to adjust to the different time zone. I was just getting ready to head back to my apartment when Celestine Lunete came into my office. She brought me a cup of tea and sat down across from my desk. Celestine was the only French woman in the office. As tired as I was, I accepted the tea politely and sat back down. Celestine spoke English with a slight accent, but I easily understood. Which was lucky for me because I'm afraid that my high school French failed me miserably. We chatted for a few minutes about nothing in particular and she stood up to leave. Celestine stopped at my office door and turned.
"I am bi lingual." She stated flatly.
"Yes I know, you speak English very well." I answered.
Celestine got a puzzled look on her face, as if she didn't understand my response. She took the few steps back to my office and came around the corner of the desk. She looked me straight in the eyes and smiled.
"I am bi lingual. My tongue works as well on men as it does on women." She said very softly, almost a whisper.
When I didn't say anything, Celestine leaned towards me and kissed me lightly on the cheek and left. Now I know the French are big on the cheek kissing thing as a greeting or to say good bye, but.
Back in the US, saying things like that, to a relative stranger, could get you in trouble. The Brits are about the same, maybe more so, with sexual harassment. I don't know about the French, but they are a lot more open about things like that.
If I had to describe Celestine, the word that comes to mind is statuesque. She reminds me of Sophia Loren in the movies from the sixties. Tall, at least taller than my 5'8", with jet black shoulder length hair. Above average breasts and strong, well formed legs. She was very attractive, if you liked that type. I'm quite sure the men in the office liked seeing her. But why had she said what she did? I have never been interested in other women, at least sexually. Well, there was that one weekend in college years ago, but my roommate and I were both drunk.
Why me?
That night in my cozy little apartment, I finished dinner and turned on the TV. The building had a sat/dish and quite a few channels were in English. I relaxed and ran through the day's events in my mind. I kept coming back to Celestine. I remember thinking that my new job was going to be very interesting.
Most of that week I only saw Celestine briefly. I spent a lot of time in the lab finishing my current project. Friday evening I was rewriting a closing report when Celestine brought me another cup of tea.
"I am free tomorrow if you would let me show you around." Celestine said. "Perhaps breakfast and a walk?"
