The Spanish chain that sells fashion to the masses didn’t exist yet when her mother gave her that name. She named her after her Spanish grandmother, and her full name is Zara Catherine Amelié Coralie Valois-en-Beaujolais. Now you’re really laughing: you’re reminded of the wine, right? What a jumble – an international chain of moderately priced fashion-shops and a wine . . . well, it is what it is, and Zara learned to deal with the jokes long ago, usually cracked only by those who didn’t understand the name and its meaning anyway – the common folk, as she always cynically observed.She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the bathroom mirror and was happy with the way she looked: a narrow face, striking green eyes, cat’s-eyes … people described her as beautiful -- no, not people -- men. And when they spoke with her they probably had something else on their mind other than intelligent conversation, which would have been her preference. As she re-applied her dark-red lipstick, she heard a noise that turned her stomach, followed quickly by the flushing of a toilet that confirmed what she had heard: Behind the cream-colored cabin door, Anne was vomiting for the third time today, and if Zara weren’t such a good soul, she would no longer be standing there.
