27
Dying
Thessaloniki, March 2010
Eleni rang the buzzer on the fifth row, labelled ‘Hatzis’, outside the apartment block where she had spent her entire childhood. For the last few years she had referred to it as ‘my parents’ flat’. It had been too many years since she had lived in it to be able to call it ‘home’. No reply. She must try to calm down, she thought to herself, but she could feel the veins under her skin contracting.
The night she just spent in Athens Airport was certainly one of the worst of her life. Her flight from London landed in Athens at two o’clock in the morning. The first flight to Thessaloniki was at six a.m., so she had to spend three and a half sleepless hours surrounded by the homeless who had come to the airport lounge in search of some shelter from the unusu
