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Even though I don’t understand a word of Portuguese: it’s clear from her tone it’s not a compliment.
With rude hand movements, she shoos me down the hall to the employee restroom. After she pushes me down onto the toilet bowl, I also realize why she is suddenly so huge: Her feet are stuck in over-the-knee boots with at least four-inch platform soles and a heel as high again.
Fucking hell! Any other woman would have broken both legs after just three steps!
She shakes the locked door. Then she turns around, leans against it, breathing heavily, and stares up at the ceiling.
…which I’ll have to prime with a water blocker when I leave the tattoo studio. No idea how the spot of violet tattoo ink got up there. In any case, it strikes through the third layer of paint already…
When my eyes land back on Dayany, she smiles apologetically at me.
“Olá, Felipenho.”
“Hi, Dayany,” I reply. “Nice to see you again…”
“Parem![23]“ She orders me to shut up.
I remember that much from back then, and I’d better stick to it…
“Stop talking!” With an alarmed expression on her face, she looks around. Just as if someone might be standing outside the toilet door, eavesdropping on us. “Unlock your ears. I need your help!”
“Yes?” I swallow. Dryly.This sounds kind of… not good.“Why?”
“Gawriil…” she pronounces the name I definitely didn’t want to hear. “He has constructedmerda[24].Muito de merda![25]“
Okay. If Dayany thinks something isa lot of shit, it must be World War III.
“What do you always say?” she asks, catching me not having the infamous clue. “That fucking motherfucker messed with the Kosovo Albanians. I’ve got to take a hike!”
And I’m supposed to help her do so?“But… How?”
16. To Be Stuck betweena Ribbonand a Hard Place
Celine
Silently cursing, I cling to my umbrella, which a gust of wind tries to snatch from my hands.Weren’t the narrow streets of the old town built to offer protection from the elements?I must have misunderstood something in my local history class.
Because the street canyon here acts almost like a wind tunnel…
…and the water falling from the sky turns the cobblestones into a very dangerous slide…
…a slick surface on which I almost slip.
Oh my God! I almost sprained my ankle!Limping slightly, I make it over the last few yards, struggling briefly with the wind and the umbrella at the door.
Then I’m enveloped in the chilled atmosphere ofChic & Grace. Along with the heavenly smell of coffee—of which I now need an extra-large cup.
But what about Pauline?She usually greets every customer on the spot. “Yoo-hoo!” I shout as I fold up the umbrella and put it in the umbrella stand to drain. “Where are you?”
Behind the counter, her back looms as motionless as a marble statue, and the carefully styled hair on the back of her head turned toward me.
Has something hurt her? Did she get some bad news?I walk around the checkout area. “Pauline? Yoo-hoo? Did something bad happen?”
She turns, eyeing me coolly from crown to toe. “Good afternoon. How can I help you?”
I snort. “Cut the crap, Pauline!” I wave my hand in front of her face. “It’s me. Celine.”
“Who?” She remains firm in her role. “Celine? She must have passed away, I’m sorry to say. Because she used to come by at least twice a week for a little gossip.”
