Elaine had been staring into space when the lad on the moped drew up close to the cafe where she was sipping coffee with her niece, Issy. When he removed his helmet, Elaine saw that he was aged around 25, dressed in a tight-fitting black sweater, and jeans with the hems rolled up. He leapt from the moped and darted inside the cafe, Elaine following his progress with her gaze.
‘Are you OK, Aunty Elaine?’ Issy lay a hand on Elaine’s arm.
‘Oh yes, I’m fine. That boy just reminded me of someone I knew a long time ago.’
‘Who?’ Issy’s face lit up at the possibility of getting some insight into her favourite aunt’s past.
Elaine laughed. ‘Just a lad I met in Paris, back in the late 50s when I was working there as an au pair.’
‘Tell me about him, Aunty!’ Issy leaned in closer.
Elaine shook her head. ‘It was so long ago I can hardly remember the details.’
‘That look in your eyes says otherwise, Aunty Elaine.’
Again, Elaine chuckled. ‘OK, OK! I’ll tell you what I can remember.’
There was a pause while Elaine cast her mind back more than 60 years to a crowded Gare du Nord on a warm spring afternoon in 1959.
Elaine stood outside the train station staring at the bustling scene before her. It was a surreal experience to finally be in Paris, the city of her dreams.
Months of calling the agency in the hope of a position as
