She must translate them for me, what with being written in Romanian. Teodora is from Bucharest. She lives with her mother, who translates for peanuts and cleans the houses of hedge funders in Notting Hill for little more. She is prone to depression. So would you be, if your parents went missing in the tyranny of Ceausescu.
Teodora and her mother live in a hostel off Queensway. It’s not much fun. The prime minister calling her an “educational tourist” didn’t help. Nor did his “Go Home Or Face Arrest” vans. Nor did Farrago saying a trillion Romanians would soon be living next door. Boys on baby bikes yell obscenities at her. They call her “gypo” or an “illegal” and threaten to “grass you up”.
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