Sally flung the window open and breathed in the cool, crisp evening air. She still couldn’t believe that she was really in Paris, the city of her dreams.
When she’d entered the painting competition, with its first prize of a three-month painting course in Paris, she’d never expected to win, but she did, and here she was. Her home in Durban seemed so far away and she had to keep pinching herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming.
Her accommodation for the three months was in a pension, a boarding house, run by a motherly French lady who’d taken her under her wing.