35
Paris breeze
London, September 1996
‘What’s the matter with you again?’ Nicolas asked.
‘Nothing. The usual’, Eleni replied without turning her head to face him.
‘Have you really spent all day sitting on the bench looking out of the window?’
‘Yes’, she said. She was feeling lifeless, as she had done every single day over the last three months, but somewhat provocative as well. Nicolas evoked that in her.
‘This is ridiculous!’ he said, puffing and walking up and down the living room, as though to counteract her stillness. ‘I am losing my patience with you, Eleni. I really am!’
‘You never had much, did you?’
‘But to be patient about what, Eleni? What’s the problem? You are not even telling me.’
‘You know bloody well what the problem is: I can’t write and I don’t feel like doing a
