ACADEMY OF THE UNDEAD; BOOK TWO Stand Together ... Or Fall Together
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The Abrupt Translator

Gavin Miles walked through the hotel lobby and moved into the booth for overseas calls. He dialled the number and waited. After six rings, a voice said, “Hello.”

“Hi Devil, Gavin Miles.”

“Mr Miles, how are you?”

“Well thank-you,” Miles replied, then he asked, “With this investigation, how far do you want me to go?”

“I need to know her entire history.”

“Okay, so we have a lead. Iveta may have spent time in a convent, and if you want, we will travel there.”

“Yes, please do.”

“The only problem is that it’s in the Carpathian Mountains, and apparently not easy to get to.”

“I want to know her early history Mr Miles. If the Horvat’s adopted her when she was two, I want to know where she was born and what happened to her parents, because I want you to replace out as much as you can about her biological parents.”

“Certainly. We’ll hit the road tomorrow, although my guide tells me that it’s way out in the mountains in a remote area, and it’s probably a day and a half’s drive.”

“No expense spared on this Mr Miles, so keep me updated.”

“I will.”

Miles walked over to his guide and said, “Lucia, he wants us to go there.”

The girl nodded, then asked, “We will need to leave early, so will I book rooms for us in this hotel?”

“Yes please.”

After the rooms were booked, they dined in the hotel restaurant, and occasionally Miles would gaze at her. His guide was in her early twenties, and her light brown hair was neatly cut to shoulder length. She was slender and stood around five foot four. She had an interesting face which showcased big brown eyes, although the face rarely showed any emotion, her expression normally pulled into a tight, blank mask. In the few days that he had known her, he understood that she wasn’t the conversational type, as she only spoke to respond to questions, or to interact with those who were providing information for them. Her manner was very business-like, almost to the point of being abrupt, and she always stood perfectly straight, or sat straight, and with her face lacking any expression, she reminded Miles of a robot. But she got things done with a minimum of fuss. Wanting to know more about her, he asked, “So what are your plans, what do you hope to do in the future?”

After she sliced a piece of fish, she glanced at him and said, “I hope to do many things in the future.”

“Okay, but a career, what kind of career are you looking for?”

After chewing the fish, she placed the fork on the table and looked at him as she asked bluntly, “Why are you asking this?”

“Well, you know, I’d just like to know a little bit about you.”

“Why?”

“Well, you know …” he looked at her, the girl sitting straight, her focus right on him, and he muttered, “I guess it doesn’t matter.”

She picked up her fork again and sliced another piece, and Miles asked, “The fish, the fish is good?”

She chewed, and then nodded.

They walked up the stairs together, Lucia walking as she usually did, briskly, almost as if she were marching, then as they walked down the hallway, she nodded at a door and said, “Your room.”

He accepted the key off her and said, “Thank-you, I hope you sleep well.”

“I always sleep well.” she replied abruptly, then she said, “I will meet you in the restaurant at seven-thirty for breakfast.”

“Certainly.”

She turned and marched away.

Miles took his shoes off then looked in the mini bar, and he selected the small whisky. He sipped the whisky, thinking about his next day and a half; travelling in a car with a robot, or a robotic human. Clearly, Lucia got no joy from engaging in polite conversation, although Miles hoped that she would open up a little during their long journey.

*

Miles was brushing his teeth when his cell phone rang the next morning, and he spat the foam into the basin and answered, “Hello.”

“It is seven thirty-five.” came the bland response, and before he could reply, the call disconnected.

After breakfast, they packed their suitcases in the car and then climbed in. The car he had hired was a newish Suziki, and it was comfortable and easy to handle. Before he started the car, Lucia pointed at a map and said, “If you drive well, we should be here after midday and we will stop for lunch.”

“Sure.”

“No stops along the way,” she said, then she looked at him and asked, “Have you been to toilet?”

Miles had to bite his bottom lip to suppress his grin, and he nodded, “Yes, I have.”

“Okay fonok, if I travel with you, my money is now one hundred American dollars a day.”

“Yes, sure.”

“Fonok …”

Miles started the car and said, “You can call me Gavin.”

Without looking at him, she said bluntly, “I will call you fonok.”

“What does that mean again?”

“Boss, or master.”

“Okay, well yeah, that’s okay I guess.”

“Fonok …”

“What?”

“Drive please.”

Settling into the long drive, Lucia pulled out a Walkman and inserted the ear plugs, and then with the map sitting on her lap, she stared straight ahead.

By early evening, they pulled into a small motel on the outskirts of a small town. Walking quickly, Lucia went to the counter and rattled off a question in her usual brisk manner, then she turned to Miles and said, “They only have one room, and room has double bed.”

“Ummm, that’s okay if it’s okay with you.”

Lucia said crisply, “I will book.”

They walked to a small restaurant, and then sat down near the window. Lucia looked at the menu and said, “Menu is in Hungarian, what do you want?”

“Errr, maybe steak and chips, or something like that.”

Lucia looked at him and asked, “Do you want steak and chips, or do you want something else?”

“Steak and chips should be fine.”

“Why did you say, or something like that?”

“Ummm, no, steak and chips will be fine.”

“Fonok, steak and chips is something like steak and chips.” Lucia said in her no-fuss manner.

“Yes, yes it is.”

“Why did you say, steak and chips, or something like that, if you wanted steak and chips?”

Miles coughed out a laugh, then asked, “Can I get you a drink?”

“Did you answer my question?”

“Is it important?”

“Yes.” Lucia replied. “I know English well, although sometimes you confuse me. If you wanted steak and chips, it is pointless to add the words or something like that.”

Miles had to chuckle, then he said, “I apologise for confusing you, and I will have steak and chips.”

“Are you laughing at me fonok?”

“No, sorry, I’m not. I’m just a bit tired after the long drive, and I’ll be more careful, or maybe more precise with my words in the future.”

“You laugh when you are tired?”

Miles gazed at her, raised an eyebrow, then asked, “Lucia, can I get you a drink?”

She nodded and said, “Get me a water.”

Miles stood, but before he moved away, Lucia said, “Fonok, get me a water … or something like that.”

Miles nodded, although he thought about her response, then grinned. Maybe she was taking the piss out of him, so he glanced at her, hoping to share a laugh with her, although her face was already down, studying the menu.

After a quiet dinner, they walked into the room, the room featuring a small living area, a smaller kitchen area, a bathroom and the bedroom. Lucia faced him and asked, “Where you sleep?”

The bed didn’t look overly inviting, although the prospect of laying in the same bed as her was inviting, all the same, conscious of matters of propriety, Miles muttered, “I can sleep on the couch.”

Lucia marched over to a small cupboard and opened it, then said, “No spare blankets, no blankets for couch.”

Miles wasn’t sure whether she was extending an invitation to share the double bed, so he asked, “No spare blankets?”

She cocked her head to the side and asked, “Did you not hear me?”

“What?”

“I said no spare blankets.”

“Okay, yes, sorry.”

Lucia looked at the bed, then said, “If we share bed, I must tell you something …”

Miles sucked his bottom lip, fully suspecting that a blunt message or warning was going to come hurtling in his direction, and he asked, “What?”

Facing him, standing straight, almost at attention, she asked, “Fonok, you like for sex?”

Miles rocked back, stunned. Nobody could ever say that they didn’t hear Lucia, for she spoke clearly and with volume, so he had heard what she said, it was just that it surprised the shit out of him. He gazed at her and asked bashfully, “What, sex? You mean with you?”

Lucia raised her eyebrows and asked, “Is there someone else here?”

“Ummm, no.”

“So you like for sex with me?”

Miles nodded and said quietly, “Yes, I would.”

“You said you are tired,” she advised, “So maybe we should sleep.”

This surprising development had leapt up out of nowhere, and Miles wanted to keep it alive, so he said, “The dinner, the dinner has given me a little more energy.”

“The steak and chips has given you energy?”

“Yes, yes it has.”

“Should we sleep, or should we sex?”

Miles wasn’t sure whether she was teasing him or not, all the same, he said quietly, “Sex.”

“Fifty American dollars.” she said crisply.

“Yes, yes, of course.”

“You have condom?”

“No, but tell me where to go, and I will get some.”

“I have some.” Lucia replied, “Get undressed.”

Miles had been thinking that he wanted to get this investigation over as quick as possible and get back home, although as Lucia peeled her singlet off, he thought that if it continued on for another day or two, he could live quite happily with that.

Lucia was in great shape, and Miles watched as she peeled the quilt back and jumped in the bed. Miles tentatively climbed in next to her, and she said bluntly, “Straight sex; no anal sex, no suck cock.”

“Yes, certainly, straight sex.”

“You give me orgasm first?”

“Yes, I would love to.”

“Please fonok, begin.”

*

By early afternoon the next day, they were at the Szant Feny Convent. It certainly was isolated, being nestled in the mountains, with the nearest town being more than twelve miles away.

“They’re a long way away from anything.” Miles remarked.

“Fonok, convent use to be a shelter for abused women, although I believe that is no longer the case.”

“What does the name of the convent mean?”

“Szant Feny means Holy Light.”

They drove down the gravel driveway and parked in the modest car park area, then with Lucia leading the way, they walked into the building. An un-manned desk greeted them, and Lucia looked around and saw a nun, then called out to her. “Fonok, go and sit, I will speak to the nun.”

Miles sat fifty yards away, and he couldn’t hear them, although he could see Lucia showing the nun the passport photo. Both heads nodded, both talked, both responded, and Miles smiled as he watched Lucia go about her business. Watching her also made him think about the previous night. The normally business-like and abrupt young woman had shown another side of herself the previous night, for she had melted as he brought her to orgasm, her delicate moans providing a sensual accompaniment as her slender body writhed against him. During the intercourse, she got involved, swaying her hips as she sprinkled kisses across his face, although after they had cleaned themselves, she reverted to Abrupt-Lucia, as she said, Don’t cuddle me, stay on your side; I am tired. Abrupt-Lucia greeted him in the morning as well as he tried to kiss her. She pushed him away and said, Have shower … five minutes, no longer.

Lucia marched over and to him and said, “The nun does not know of the girl, but an older nun might know of her.”

They waited in silence, Miles hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, Lucia sitting straight.

Miles gazed around, the front room of the convent looking like it needed a little love and attention. The floor was patterned tiles, and although they were clean, many were cracked or had broken corners. The building was solid brick, and large cracks were prominent in the three archways that led out of the room. Two of the large front windows also featured cracks in the glass, and the painted timber frames were peeling.

The nun returned and spoke to Lucia, and Lucia patted Miles on the leg and said, “Come.”

The nun walked leisurely under one of the archways, and Lucia seemed awkward as her normal full-legged stride was reduced to a dignified stroll. The nun led them into a room and pointed at another nun sitting at a table, then she smiled at Lucia and wandered off.

They sat at the table, and Lucia said, “Hello, en nev van Lucia.”

The nun nodded and said, “Novere Renata.”

Lucia asked a question, and the nun said, “Nem.”

“Her name is Sister Renata, and she does not speak English.” Lucia advised. She produced the photo of an eleven-year-old Iveta, and also Iveta’s passport, and pushed them in front of the nun, then she rattled off a phrase which appeared to be a question.

The Sister shook her head and said, “Nem.”

Miles tapped her on the hand and said, “Lucia, ask her if we can record this.”

Lucia looked at him and said, “I told you, she does not speak English.”

“I understand, but ask her if I can record the conversation.”

Lucia frowned, then said, “I will ask.” She rattled off a question, and the nun nodded, then Lucia said, “You may record.”

Miles got the recorder out of his bag and switched it on, and Lucia looked at him derisively as she asked, “Fonok, you have learned how to speak Hungarian overnight?”

“It won’t hurt to have this recorded, so please, ask her if she remembers the girl.”

Miles heard Lucia relay a phrase that had the word ket in it, and he knew that the word ket was Hungarian for two. He watched as the nun seemed to ponder, then he asked Lucia, “What did you say?”

“I told her that the child might have been here when she was two years old.in nineteen-seventy.” Lucia replied.

Miles saw the nun still staring at the photo and the passport, then the nun looked at Lucia and asked a question. Lucia replied, “Igen.”

Miles knew that igen meant yes, so he asked, “What did she say?”

“She wanted to know if the girl was still alive.”

“Tell her that she is, and we want to know if she was ever here.”

“I told her yes, the girl is alive, and the nun remembers the girl.”

“Really?”

“Yes fonok, really.” Lucia replied abruptly.

“Okay, well tell her that we would like to know more about her.”

Lucia nodded and said, “I will ask her what she knows about the girl.” Lucia asked the question, and the nun dropped her face. Sister Renata’s shoulders sagged noticeably as she blew out a despairing sigh, then she mumbled a reply.

Lucia turned to Miles and said, “She says the girl is bad.”

Miles had already confirmed that the girl had killed her foster parents, so he knew that she wasn’t quite normal, although if the girl was two years old when she was at the convent, it seemed a bit presumptuous to state that she was bad. “Ask her how long the girl was here for, and how old was she when she arrived. Importantly, see if she knows where she came from.”

He stayed focussed on the nun as Lucia asked the question, and the nun replied quietly. Lucia gazed at Miles and said, “She was born here.”

“We already know that she was born in Hungary.”

“No fonok, the nun said that the girl was born here.”

“In the convent?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, does that mean that she knows the mother?”

“I will ask her.”

Lucia spoke, and Sister Renata looked at her attentively until she replied in a quiet voice, the reply stretching into a second minute.

Lucia said, “The mother of the girl came here, seeking refuge. The nuns asked if she was with child, and the woman said, No … not yet. The nuns were confused until the woman said, Someone is looking for me.”

“So what does that mean?”

“I will ask her.”

Lucia asked the question, and Sister Renata replied, the reply hesitant, the reply interspersed with uncertain pauses. Lucia seemed to be running the reply through her mind, then she said, “The woman was not with child when she came here, but then she was with child.”

“So what does that mean, somebody got her pregnant while she was here?”

“Maybe so.”

“You said that this convent is run by nuns, so what, did there used to priests in this convent? I mean did a priest get her pregnant”

“Most unlikely fonok, but I will ask her.”

Lucia asked the question, and the nun bowed her head again. Seconds ticked by until Sister Renata replied. Lucia seemed surprised, or confused by the reply, so Miles asked, “What did she say?”

“She says that the girl’s mother was an Angel.”

“What does she mean by that?”

“I will ask her.” The question was short and blunt, the reply was timid and hesitant, and Miles asked, “What did she say?”

“I can make no sense of what she said.” Lucia replied crisply.

“Okay, but ask her where the mother is now.”

“I will ask her.”

Lucia asked a short question, and Sister Renata issued a longer response.

“The mother left the convent after she gave birth, and she left the child here.”

“Why did she leave her here?”

“I will ask her.”

Lucia posed a question, and Sister Renata replied, although Lucia obviously wasn’t happy with the response, because Lucia asked another question. Sister Renata turned her gaze to her lap, and she replied quietly, and just as Lucia was swivelling to look at Miles, Sister Renata mumbled something else.

Lucia now looked at her lap, and she seemed to be thinking about the responses, then she faced Miles and said, “The nun says that the Angel left the child here, because the child was bad.”

Miles thought about it then said blandly, “I wouldn’t call the mother an angel if she gave birth to her and then deserted her child.”

“Fonok, the nun said that the mother was a real Angel.”

“What are you saying?”

“I will speak to her more.”

Lucia faced the nun, and her words seemed like a question, and the nun replied, and Lucia spoke again, and the nun shook her head, and Lucia spoke again, longer this time, and the nun shrugged her shoulders and held her hands out in an apparent gesture of innocence. Lucia shook her head again, then rattled off a few sentences. The nun seemed defensive for a moment, then she replied animatedly.

Intrigued, Miles asked, “What, what is she saying?”

Lucia sucked her bottom lip, then said cautiously, “I don’t understand what she is saying, so I will speak to her again.”

Lucia’s voice rose, and in European tradition, her hands flitted out in apparent disagreement. The nun shrugged again, then offered her hands in baying innocence, and Lucia tapped her own head in frustration as she launched into another monologue.

Sister Renata seemed affronted by the monologue, and spoke again, quicker this time.

“Lucia, what is she saying?”

“Crazy talk!” Lucia huffed, then she said, “I will speak to her again.”

Lucia composed herself, then began. After a few sentences, Sister Renata declared, “Nem!” And Lucia went again, a harder edge to her voice this time, and Sister Renata cried out, “Nem!”

Lucia and Sister Renata stared at one another, and Miles couldn’t help himself as he asked, “What is she saying?”

“Crazy talk,” Lucia huffed, “This is … errr, how you say, time wasted.”

“Why, what is she saying?”

“The nun repeats that the woman was an Angel, and I told her that Angels are not real. The nun said that she saw the Angels wings, and I told her that she is a crazy old woman.”

Miles didn’t want the interview derailed by Lucia verbally abusing the nun, so he said, “Calm down Lucia, we need to hear what she says. If the woman was the mother of the child, replace out more about the woman, where she came from and where she is now.”

“Fonok, the nun said that the woman was an Angel with wings!”

“Calm down, calm down; what does she mean by wings?”

“Fonok, the nun said that she knew the woman was an Angel because she saw her wings!”

Miles ran it through his mind, then said, “Look, don’t upset her, keep her talking, because I need to know about this woman.”

Lucia shook her head, then turned back to the nun. Lucia had at least ninety seconds of dialogue before Sister Renata broke in negatively, and Lucia jumped in, quicker and with a fair degree less civilty. Sister Renata threw in sixty seconds of defensive dialogue, then Lucia leant forward and sneered at her as she rattled off a multiple sentence response.

“Lucia, what are you talking about?”

“Fonok, the nun is crazy woman, and she says a man with red eyes raped the woman.”

Miles shook his head, “I don’t understand.”

“The crazy nun says that the man with red eyes raped the woman with wings, and the woman then be with child.”

“How does she know this?”

“Fonok, this is wasting time, the nun is crazy.”

“Lucia please, replace out how she knows this, and we also need to confirm that the child was Iveta.”

Lucia composed herself, and rattled off a question, which Sister Renata replied to in a short clip of words, then Lucia went again, quicker, the derision in her tone quite obvious.

Drawing in a breath, Lucia said, “She says that the woman gave birth … to two.”

“Two?”

“Two children, two girls.”

“Was Iveta one of them?”

“Yes.”

“Where is the mother now?”

“I will ask her.”

Lucia posed a question, and Sister Renata issued a short reply, and as Lucia began a sentence, Sister Renata jumped in. Lucia seemed confused, and she spoke quickly, and before replying, Sister Renata held her gaze for a moment, then she said something in a quiet, yet seemingly chilled tone.

Seeing the look of disbelief on Lucia’s face, Miles was almost willing to concede that this had been a waste of time, although he asked, “What did she say?”

“Fonok, she says after the woman gave birth, she looked at the girls, then she handed one of the girls to the nuns and said, Kill this one.”

“Kill? Kill one of her newly-born children?”

“This is waste of time, but I will ask why nun said that.”

In their short association, Lucia had come across as sensible, pragmatic and abrupt, and the abruptness shone through as Lucia fired off a rally of short, clipped sentences. Sister Renata replied, and Lucia huffed mockingly during the response, and she was still glaring at the nun as she said to Miles, “The nun says that the woman with wings looked into the eyes of both girls, and she held one and said, This girl is good; then she handed the other one to the nuns and said, This girl is bad, kill her.”

“Lucia, does she keep saying that the mother of the girls had wings?”

“Igen, I mean yes, she keeps saying that the mother was an Angel.”

“Ask her if anybody else saw the mother’s wings.”

“I will ask.” Lucia’s abruptness had gone to a new level, and Sister Renata obviously understood the sarcasm in the question, because she replied meekly.

Lucia sucked her bottom lip, and stared into space as she said, “The crazy nun said that another nun, Sister Olga saw the Angel’s wings, but …”

“But what?”

“Sister Olga passed away.”

To Miles, wasting time was clearly ahead of not wasting time, although Sister Renata slipped into an unprompted dialogue.

Lucia coughed out a laugh and said derisively, “The crazy nun said she heard the woman with wings screaming, and she came into the yard and saw the woman on the ground, without her clothes, and she was, errr, fighting against the man with red eyes.”

“Who is this man with red eyes?”

“Fonok, do not you understand, the nun is crazy!”

“Lucia, get her to tell you the story, the whole story.”

“Fonok, Angels and men with red eyes, this is crazy talk!”

“Yes, I agree, but let her tell her story.”

“Fonok, the other nun who is supposed to have seen the woman’s wings is dead, so we have only the word of this crazy nun.”

Miles pondered, then said, “Ask her how long the girl stayed here at the convent.”

Lucia sighed, then said, “I will ask.”

Lucia rattled off a single sentence, and Sister Renata replied in a series of clipped, timid sentences.

“The crazy nun said that even though the woman with wings wanted the child killed, nuns can never harm anyone, so the girl stayed here until she was two, then nuns took her to the city and gave her to the az engedelyt.”

“Who, what?”

Lucia seemed unusually flustered, and she said, “Errr, engedelyt, how you say, government authorities.”

“Two years old; well that ties in with when the Horvat’s became her guardians.”

“It could be so.”

“So she was born here, then the Horvat’s take her in until she eventually kills them, so maybe we have her complete history in this country.”

“As you say, is how it could be.”

“I need to know more about why the mother left her here.”

“Fonok, the nun talks of a woman with wings, and the woman was impregnated by a man with red eyes, so she is crazy!”

Miles gazed at the nun, and she seemed to understand that Lucia’s statement of ridicule was directed at her, so he said, “Ask her one last question, ask her if she knows where the mother went.”

“I will ask.”

Lucia asked the question in a more civil tone, and Sister Renata issued her response.

“She says the woman with wings go to where she is needed.”

“Does she know where that is?”

“No.”

“Okay, well thank her nicely, and offer her some money.”

Lucia spoke briskly, and Sister Renata replied quietly.

“The nun says they have no need for money.”

“Tell her we will leave a donation anyway, five hundred dollars.”

Lucia relayed the message, then stood. Sister Renata grabbed Lucia’s hand and whispered to her.

Miles was intrigued. Due to the abrupt and aggressive interrogation that she had been subjected to, Sister Renata had every right to storm off in a huff, although she must have felt compelled, or duty bound to issue a closing statement to the person who had belittled her. Miles looked at Lucia and asked, “What did she say?”

“She says a priest knows about the woman with wings.”

“Where is the priest?”

“I will ask.”

For Lucia, the question was delivered in a polite manner, and Sister Renata replied, then scurried away.

“Where is she going?”

“She has contact number for priest.”

Three minutes later Sister Renata shuffled back into the room and handed a card to Lucia, and Lucia nodded. Sister Renata looked into her eyes, then issued a quiet sentence.

Miles asked, “What did she say?”

Lucia pursed her lips, then replied, “Again, she repeats that the mother was an Angel, and the Angel said that the girl is bad.”

Miles smiled weakly at Sister Renata, then said, “Thank-you for your help.”

Lucia translated the message, then they turned and walked away.

Miles found that he almost had to skip to keep up with his marching translator, and he asked, “Where is he?”

Lucia stopped, then said, “Give me your phone.” Miles handed his phone over, and Lucia dialled the number on the card, and after it was answered, she delivered a short rattle of Hungarian phrases, then she reverted to English. She ended the call and handed the phone back, then she began walking again.

Bemused, Miles asked, “Well?”

Lucia stopped and asked snappily, “Well what?”

“Where is he, where is the priest?”

“Debrecen.”

Miles stared and at her and asked, “Where’s that, how far away?”

She began walking again and said, “We get motel.”

*

Over dinner, Lucia was more conversational and animated than she had ever been. Just as blunt though. “Fonok, the old nun was crazy, and the old priest might be crazy!”

“But he will see us?”

“The priest will see us, yes.”

“Well that’s good Lucia, and he has met the mother?”

“Nem.”

“Nem, you mean no?”

“Yes, no.” Lucia replied abruptly.

While walking up to the motel room, Miles was tingling with expectation, and he wanted to clasp her hand lovingly, although he suspected that if he did, he might cop a back-hander. Wanting to be conversational, he asked, “Was your meal nice?”

Lucia glanced at him and said, “Why you ask me this?”

“Well, I just wanted to know if you enjoyed your meal.”

“If I didn’t like, I wouldn’t eat, but I did eat.” she replied abruptly.

Miles frowned, understanding quickly that he couldn’t read the mood of this strange young woman, and this night may not be as exciting as the previous night.

Lucia inserted the key in the door, and before turning the key, she faced him and asked, “Fonok, are you married?”

“Me? No, separated, I mean divorced.”

Lucia bowed her face and asked in a quieter tone, “Fonok, you do oral sex for me?”

Miles sucked his bottom lip, then said brightly, “Yes, yes, of course!”

Lucia looked up at him and said, “Oral sex for me, normal sex for you.”

“Yes, sure.”

“Fifty American dollars.”

“Yes, fifty American, sure.”

“Fonok …”

With his heart pumping faster, Miles asked expectantly, “What?”

“After sex, don’t cuddle me, stay on your own side.”

“Yes Lucia, I will.”

“And fonok …”

“What?” Miles asked excitedly.

“Don’t snore.”

“Was I snoring last night?”

“Yes.”

Miles undressed quickly, and Lucia undressed with a minimum of fuss, then stood in front of him as she said, “Fonok …”

Miles stared at her while anticipating her question; Am I attractive? He already had a dictionary of flattering words to lay before her, many of which he had used the previous night; although all of them would be paraded before her again after she asked the question. “What Lucia?”

Looking straight at him, she asked, “Do Americans only eat steak and chips?”

Miles laughed in surprise, then he said, “Lucia …”

“What?”

“You, you are very beautiful.”

She nodded and said, “I know this.”