Caramarin sprawled out on the couch at Narcisa's. The girls were all getting ready for work the next day. Ewelina was ironing an endless supply of her uniform tops and Artur's shirts; Marta was in the kitchen and Caramarin had one eye on a nature documentary. He didn't need to speak any English to understand what was happening.
A rat was hiding in terror from a stoat or something that had entered its nest. He knew what must be going through both the stoat's and the rat's minds. But he didn’t know whether he was more the stoat or the rat.
Even a few beers and a couple of spliffs did little to calm his mood. He felt tense and on edge with a feeling things were spiralling out of control; that he'd started in motion something that he couldn't stop. Caramarin didn't know why he felt that way, but he did. And he couldn't stop his thoughts racing through his brain. He drained the last of his pilsner.
Caramarin grabbed another bottle and some of Marta's sandwiches before heading upstairs. He knocked on Narcisa's door. No reply. He knocked again, a little louder this time before pushing the door open. Narcisa sat on her bed. She looked up with red rimmed teary eyes. Her mascara had run in black streaks down her cheeks.
"Go away, Nicu," she said.
He crossed the room and threw his arm around her shoulders.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"What do you think? You are. I was making a life for myself here in this country. Got a job, friends, a home and then you come along. You with your fights, your stolen pictures, your... your... whole bad attitude. Whoever you're looking for must be some sort of crook. You've not come to England for work or a better life. It's people like you that give Romania a bad name."
Caramarin was taken aback by her fury. "Listen. I'm no saint. I know that. But I'm just trying to get by..."
"Without working for a living! Oh, sorry. You've picked up some part time work as a mobster's debt collector – I've heard all about your new friend Pompiliu Stanga."
He thought of all the early mornings and late nights he'd put in for his previous gang boss, Maiorescu, back in Odessa.
"I do work when I have to. But I prefer to make my own way in life."
Narcisa tried to push him away but he held her tight, trying to comfort her. "Listen, Narcisa. If this works out, I'll see you right. Give you much better money than you are on at the pawnbrokers."
Totally the wrong thing to say. "I'm not your whore! I don't need your money. Got that?" Her dark eyes not smouldering now. They were flashing fire.
"I didn't mean it that way! And you know that. I mean, thanks for your help over the last few days. I couldn't have done it without you. No, I just want to thank you for your help."
He kissed her, she turned her mouth away and his lips met her cheek.
"C'mon, Narcisa. I think you're great. I like being with you. You're the only good thing I've found in this bloody horrible country."
She smiled through her tears. "I'm sorry, Nicu. It's just I was sort of happy with my life here and I'm worried what you'll drag me into."
"Nothing I can't handle. Anyway, if this comes off, we're gonna be all right. And you've done nothing wrong, nothing at all to be ashamed of. Any heat'll come down on me, not you. Okay, comrade?"
She smiled again. "Just remember it's not just you and please don't get me into trouble. I can't afford to lose what I've got here."
Narcisa returned his caress and turned up her mouth to be kissed. They broke apart and he dried away her tears with his finger tip.
"I must look a fright," she said.
"No, you still look gorgeous to me." He placed his hand on her breast and stroked her. She pushed his hand away.
He kissed her again, kissed her again and again. He felt Narcisa’s resistance crumble; felt her heartbeat thumping against his chest. As they kissed, once again Caramarin’s hand found her breast. The fight had burned out of Narcisa leaving her ready.
Narcisa threw her arms around his neck then returned his kisses with passion. Caramarin slipped his hand over the curve of her breast, caressing and fondling the swell. Using his strength, Caramarin pushed the young woman back onto her bed.
With his other hand, he dropped Narcisa’s rag doll onto the floor. Well, if she didn’t want her doll to see what was going to happen next...
They lay together relaxing in the warm bed, totally worn out. It was so peaceful and calm lying there and Caramarin let his mind drift along just enjoying the time spent with Narcisa. He held Narcisa close. She snuggled against him, moulding her body to his.
His cell rang, breaking the moment. An Odessa code, + 380 48, showed on the screen.
"Excuse me," Caramarin said. He stood, the cool air dragging him back to full alertness. He opened the door, letting himself out of Narcisa's bedroom. He closed the door behind him before taking the call.
"Caramarin," he announced.
"Forgive me if I'm wrong, but I thought that you would have called me by now," the voice was gentle, cultured but he knew there were rods of iron beneath the velvet. Timur Ozgan.
"I was just about to," Caramarin lied.
"My nephew, Engin, tells me you have recovered my painting. He also tells me you also have my money. When will you be bringing them home?"
"Soon, very soon," said Caramarin. "I don't know if Engin also told you I took a severe beating for you off of his friend, Mihai Pojer? I've been in hospital and only just got back on my feet." Anything to buy a little time.
"If you're up and about now, then you could make your way to the airport and catch a flight back to Kiev. I don't want to have to go to the trouble of coming to Britain looking for you."
"That won't be necessary. I'll book the return journey as soon as I can."
"Good. I'd be very disappointed if I found you were trying to go behind my back. You won't find me as easy a pushover as your old boss Maiorescu was."
"No, I'll be back in Odessa with your gear very soon. Promise."
Timur Ozgan continued. "I saw your woman, Valeriya, yesterday. Coming out of the casino after her evening shift. She's an attractive young woman, isn't she?"
"Leave her alone! She's nothing to do with me now," he shouted. Apart from the five thousand euros he'd sent her. He needed to throw Ozgan off from Valeriya.
"If you come back with my painting and money then I'm sure she'll carry on with her life with no harm at all coming her way."
"Hurt her and I'll kill you!" Caramarin paused. He needed to calm this down as he didn't want a man as dangerous as Timur Ozgan going after Valeriya or her family. Or even himself for that matter.
"I'm sorry. Please forget that. I spoke out of turn," he could grovel if he needed. Anything to buy some time and stay alive and ahead. "I'll be back in Odessa soon. I'll call you when I’ve got the flight times."
"I'll look forward to that." Ozgan said before killing the call.
Caramarin wiped his brow. Fuck-shit, he muttered. He'd have to call Valeriya and suggest she take a holiday out of Odessa until he'd got this sorted.
Narcisa opened her bedroom door.
"Is everything all right, Nicu? I heard shouting," she asked, concern in her dark eyes. Half way up the stairs, Ewelina and Artur looked up at him.
"Everything's fine," he said, trying to look calmer than he felt. Ewelina waited for Narcisa's nod before she pushed Artur back down the stairs to the lounge.
"Sorry," Caramarin called after them. Narcisa was right. Those girls kept an eye out for each other.
"Who was that?" queried Narcisa.
"Someone from back home. In Odessa."
"And who had he to leave alone?" Shit, he thought. She'd heard that part.
"An ex-girlfriend, Valeriya. She's hooked up with a fool of a man who knocks her about sometimes. He thinks I’m still sniffing about so I was telling him to lay off."
Narcisa looked at him. She shook her head. "Then why'd he call you?"
"Who'd you used to work for? Ceausescu's Securitate Secret Police? The man's in debt again and wanted to borrow money off of me. I'll have to send some tomorrow or he might take it out on her. I didn't tell you before because, well, you know..." he tailed off. Hoped she believed him. Maybe his battered face helped obscure his lies. Narcisa flung her arms around his neck and kissed him.
"And you're still keeping an eye out for this Valeriya even though she's an ex. She's a lucky girl," she kissed him again. "I was beginning to think you were a bad man. But you're not; not deep down."
Caramarin shrugged. But deep down, he didn't like deceiving Narcisa. She deserved much better than that. He kissed her again and again, and then told her he would return to his bed and breakfast for the night. This time she didn't stop him. He picked up his tube and holdall and left the house. He felt tired and, away from Narcisa, the anxiety built up in his mind.
He looked up. High above the sodium orange glare, the winter moon scudded out from behind the clouds. Its dead white face reminded him of a skull.
Not good.