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Klatovská 51, an unremarkable building, in an unremarkable
street. Pavel looked behind him to make sure he wasn’t being followed; the
coast looked clear. A woman in the top window was throwing her duvet out to air while watching the street below with suspicion. Pavel was trying to act
normally, but he was probably already standing out like a sore thumb. He knew
he couldn’t hang around deciding if to go through with it; he had to either
ring the bell or walk on and not look back. He’d come this far, he couldn't
back out now, could he? He looked around, apart from duvet woman there was no
one else visible in the street. He took a deep breath, his hands felt clammy
and his clothes felt too small on his body. He looked at the list of names on
the doorbell and then looked at the slip of paper in his hand. He knew this was
the moment of truth, he remembered the old expression, you can make fish soup out of a fish but you can't make a fish out of
fish soup. Once he rang that doorbell he’d be one of them, forever and a day tarred with that brush. It was only once didn’t cut it as a
defence. A car cruised down the street, Pavel looked down hoping his face
was hidden from the passengers.
The paper said Burešová, he could see the name on
the doorbell. He breathed out and rang the bell and waited. A voice crackled on
the intercom. He was well aware this might be a trap, that he might have fallen
for the oldest trick in the book. But if he was going to do this, it was a risk
he would have to take. Pavel said his name and pushed open the buzzing door. He
climbed the stairs slowly; out of the way of prying eyes he could take his
time, allow his feet to reflect his uncertainty. He could feel sweat on the
backs of his knees, he rubbed his sweaty palms on his jeans, he wondered how he
looked.
Ms Burešová opened the door and smiled.
‘Come in, I won't bite,’ she said. Pavel was aware of how scared he must have looked.
He crossed the threshold.
‘So let's deal with the money first,’ the scantily clad woman said with a wink, ‘and then we can get you out of those clothes.’
Ms Burešová opened the door and smiled.
‘Come in, I won't bite,’ she said. Pavel was aware of how scared he must have looked.
He crossed the threshold.
‘So let's deal with the money first,’ the scantily clad woman said with a wink, ‘and then we can get you out of those clothes.’
This is funny: "Pavel was trying to act normally , but he was probably already standing out like a sore thumb."
ReplyDeleteThat's a typical british saying so not in the lines of the wee :-)
DeleteI wonder what the "lines if the wee" look like :-)
Delete