20
Paris breeze
London and Paris, June 1997
Eleni kept peering at her freshly manicured nails. This was only her second manicure ever. The first one had lasted for less than twenty-four hours, and since then she had felt that it was not worth the money. For somebody who used her hands every day to do art, a manicure felt like high heels on an elephant. But today was a different day. Today was the day she had decided that she could allow herself to go wild, just for a weekend. Her nails told the story. Bright red, they were, a colour she had never felt comfortable wearing before.
The wavy, soothing motion of the Eurostar on her hips only confirmed her determination. She was a young woman in charge of herself, who knew what she wanted. She had loved trains since childhood. When she was v
