In the morning Violetta sat in the kitchen, looked out of the window and absorbedly crafted rings out of cigarette smoke. She had a very erotic expression on her face while doing it. I stood by the stove and reflected that my efforts were in vain. I remained, as before, in the capacity of cattle. Violetta had just acquainted herself with my brilliant plan and demanded an advance to the tune of two thousand bucks. Playing the virgin without an advance was not to her taste. She had it figured out right, the bitch. Throwing her out by the scruff of the neck I could not do. Where else was I to look for such a specimen? A monopoly on a fifth-size bust inflated the prices sky-high. Violetta did whatever she liked with a client. Of course, I could take the required money out of my pocket and, with a high degree of probability, end up looking a fool.
I took the pizza out of the oven, cut it up neatly and asked:
– Have you got your passport with you?
– What for?
– Security.
– What am I, an idiot, to go to work with my passport? Though… – Violetta reached for her handbag and, after rummaging in it, produced a little red-skinned book. – Will a foreign-travel passport do?
– Makes no difference to me, – I answered. I took the passport, opened it, ran my eyes over the photograph. Her. But the name was a different one. – And what do you drag a foreign-travel passport around with you for, Lena?
– I was at the embassy yesterday, arranging a visa for Germany.
I was about to run a little cynicism past her on the subject of her possible foreign earnings, but restrained myself. Friendly relations had to be built:
– What are you planning to do there?
– Nothing. I’m going to a friend’s. We’ll hang about.
I see. Hanging about on the Reeperbahn. But what fool would pay two hundred bucks a session there? Fifty marks, no more. Though one might jump into marriage. There are options.
– Very well, Lena. I’m taking the passport. The money will be here in an hour. Shake on it?
– Shake on it, Robik.
I had introduced myself as Robert. My own documents, naturally, I had no intention of showing, despite the apparent heart-to-heart nature of our relations.