BRUSSELS, LATE AUGUST
I sat in the hotel room watching Elena sleeping and wondered what this year was going to be like. Vienna had been so unexpected and fulfilling that Brussels was going to seem like an anticlimax if I wasn't careful. I promised myself that I'd think positive.
I made another mental note not to deal with governments again. They have all the money there is and when it comes to spending it on anything useful they're as tight as a duck's ass in winter. I'd had to be at my most stubborn when the charge d'affaires was talking. Her English was slow but excellent, and she needed no lessons from me at all. Apparently her staff were another matter.
'We're a small Balkan country, Mr. Lancer, not the World Bank. You're asking for an enormous amount of money, which ultimately comes from the taxpayer.'
'The money is from EU funds, Miss Strevic, so don't tug at my heart strings. You want me to give five hours of classes a day to seven people, in two groups, and you say that the timetable may change at short notice. That's a much higher number of students than I normally handle. You've asked me to change my normal method of payment and I've agreed. You've beaten me down to living in a pension instead of a hotel. I suggest you check my references and my track record again, and then agree to pay me the monthly fee we originally agreed: I'd remind you that I said when you first contacted me that I have two other prospective clients this year.'
She'd sighed and signed her copy of our agreement.
'Everyone says you're a miracle worker, but no-one told me you were so hard. I don't understand why you insist on being paid monthly in advance.'
'Because I don't trust politicians. If I'm not paid, the lessons stop.' She'd shrugged.
'Well, it's done now. I hope you're as good as everyone says. Nobody understands our language and there just aren't enough interpreters. It's my head on the block if the whole team isn't competent in English by next June.' Now that the bargaining was over she'd relaxed and become more like a person. A tired and overworked person. I looked at her sympathetically and sensed worry and the beginnings of depression.
'Your bosses are all over you and you're not sleeping very well. Why don't you come and have a drink and fill me in on my students. I bet you haven't relaxed since your country joined the EU.' She'd looked up at me, examining me intently.
'Your eyes are very compelling, Mr. Lancer.' I concentrated on projecting relaxation waves, and the pleasure of a normal evening out. Her face softened and she leaned back in her chair as the idea settled into her. I stifled a smile, pleased that I hadn't lost my touch. Temptation is a terrible thing.
'We'll be working together, Miss Strevic, so call me Luke. What should I call you?'
'Elena,' she'd said. 'You've persuaded me, Luke. Let's go and have a drink.'
**********
We ended up in a quiet restaurant that I'd discovered while I was waiting for her government to make up its mind. She looked around curiously.
'This is nice. I haven't really had time to explore Brussels. I'm from a small town and there are times when I feel very provincial here.'
'Why are you here anyway? How does a girl from a small town make it to be deputy head of a national delegation?' She shrugged.
'Knowing English, working much too hard, kissing the right asses...'
'Not having to kiss anything else?' She blushed and shook her head but said nothing, so I poured us both some wine and raised my glass.
'Here's to you, Elena. I'm going to enjoy working with you.' She smiled and sipped and I concentrated some more on helping her to relax. My money was going to be channeled through this woman and I wanted her on my side.
About thirty five years old, I guessed, with her face showing faint lines of tension. She was still slim, but her body had the look that says exercise has been lacking. I thought she was cute, and with a little attention could be cute plus: her breasts filled her formal jacket very nicely and what I had seen of her legs suggested that the whole package would be worth unwrapping. Long dark hair and eyes that slanted slightly added a touch of the exotic, and her wide mouth looked as if it was made for kissing.
The food came with the pomp that Belgians love. This is a country that cares about its collective stomach. When the edge of appetite had been blunted I leaned back.
'So where are you lot living, if money's so short?' She grimaced.
'We've got that office we call an Embassy and we're living in a rented house about three kilometers out of town. It's big enough, just, but the juniors have to share. The Ambassador's got a flat nearer the centre.' I nodded.
'So they're playing on your idealism and loyalty. That sounds about right for politicians. OK, no more questions. You look exhausted. Let's finish this and have a brandy and we'll get going.' She smiled faintly.
'Thanks. You're right about me being tired. I don't think I've relaxed properly like this for months. You're quite a soothing person to be with.'
'I do my best.' I concentrated hard on the idea of a soothing nap and possibly a little soothing hanky panky. As we went out into the warm evening she swayed, clutching at my arm.
'I think I'm a little bit tipsy. I can't go back to the house like this. The others will snigger and everything... Luke, can I sober up a bit at your pension?'
