Paris. The city of love, of romance and she was almost there, just a few stop and a fanfare of screeching breaks would announce the arrival of Miss Tanya Fay, New York’s most elusive model. Betsy crowed into the window beside her, their bodies juddering in time with the train as the French country side slipped past, snow still deep on the ground, hiding any indication of the past thirty years from the passengers.
“Mademoiselle, perhaps you and your comapinon would like the come back inside the carrige?”
She turned to find the conducter stood behind them. Polite smile firmly in place as the rest of the carrige shot them dark looks from behind books and newspapers.
“I’m afraid the cold is coming in,” he explained. “Some of the other passengers have complained.”
“Oh let them!” laughed Betsy, pulling Tanya towards the window again. “Who are they to complain about us?”