I DIDN’T GO to work last night because my period started. I felt awful, and stayed in bed all day.
At eleven I got a call from the agency owner, Cristina. She wanted to know how I was, and when we could organize my photo session.
‘I feel dizzy, Cristina. Not well at all. And I know I’ll be like this for six days at least.’
‘Six days?’ she said. ‘Does your period last that long?’
‘Yes, unfortunately. But I think I should be able to do the photos in about three.’
‘Good. I spoke to our photographer. He wants to go to the Costa Brava. It’s very pretty there, and we could do some really elegant photos, if you agree.’
‘Sounds great.’
‘We’d have to leave early, around six in the morning, to take advantage of the light.’
‘I understand. Six is a bit early for me, but that’s fine. I want to get the photos done.’
‘Why don’t you call by the apartment this afternoon. That way we can organize the photo session, and we can talk about what you should wear. I’ll be there around four.’
So I forced myself out of bed.
When I got to the brothel, there were more girls present than usual. They were all sitting in the living room, watching a soap on TV. Cindy, the Portuguese girl, was walking round the room with a lit stick of cinnamon.
‘This attracts money,’ she said when she saw me staring at her in amazement. ‘Afterwards, I’m going into the kitchen to wave the cinnamon round the phone, so that clients will call.’
She seemed completely serious as she told me all this. I couldn’t help laughing, but I stopped abruptly when I saw a blonde girl coming out of the bathroom. She looked just like a Barbie doll: the same tangled mass of hair, a tight-fitting tee shirt that showed off her huge silicone breasts and matching plump lips. Her breasts were so exaggerated I thought they were going to swallow her up completely. She had had such a severe facelift her eyes were completely expressionless. I thought her plastic surgeon had overdone it, to say the least. She was tiny, but round in all the right places. What on earth had she done to herself? She looked at me without saying anything, then went to sit next to Isa, who was busy putting on lipstick with the help of a small hand mirror. I could see at once the two of them were friends, and that was why the Barbie doll seemed to dislike me even before we had met. Isa must have already set her against me.
Cristina came out of the kitchen and called me.
‘Come in here, it’s easier to talk,’ she said in a friendly way.
She was finding it hard to move around because she was eight months pregnant, but every time I saw her she seemed to be in a good mood.
‘The blonde girl is called Sara. You haven’t met her before, have you?’
‘No, this is the first time I’ve seen her,’ I said.
‘She’s worked for us for years. The men love her.’
‘They do?’
I was disgusted, and thought yet again what little taste most men have.
‘She can be a bit strange at first, but don’t worry, she’ll come round.’
To tell the truth, I didn’t really care one way or the other. I was just taken aback because I had imagined there would be more friendship and solidarity among the girls. But I already realized I had been mistaken. I felt truly disappointed.
‘Every morning when I wake up I think I’m about to explode,’ Cristina said. ‘I’m so fed up with this pregnancy. I just wish the baby would come . . .!’
‘I can imagine,’ I said. ‘And it must be dreadful with this awful heat, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. And I’ve got no one to help me. I’m rushing about, and at home Manolo is a good man, but he’s completely wrapped up in his own affairs. He doesn’t do any chores for me. I’ve heard you’ve already met my husband, haven’t you?’
‘Yes. I met him yesterday morning. I looked ghastly because I was about to get my period, and that’s how he saw me.’
‘He shouts a lot, doesn’t he?’ she said, laughing. ‘I’ve already told him, Manolo don’t get so nervous. But he never listens. Oh . . .’ She suddenly clutched her belly. ‘I’m just the opposite, thank God! It doesn’t do to blow your top in this job. There are always problems, and the only way to deal with them is to stay calm, don’t you think?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘We have a clothes shop as well. Manolo and I run it. You should call in one day, we have some nice stuff. Perhaps you’ll need to renew your wardrobe. I’ll give you a special price.’
‘Why not?’
‘Anyway, to get back to business: how about doing the shoot the day after tomorrow? You’ll have to bring some elegant dresses, some nightwear, your own make-up. We’ll probably have to retouch the photos, because you’re bound to sweat a lot in this heat,’ Cristina went on, giving me the impression she knew all there was to know about these things. She changed topics. ‘As far as your periods go, you’re going to lose a lot of money if you’re out of action six days a month.’
‘Yes, I know, but what can I do about it?’ I said wearily.
‘There is something you can do so that you can work without your client realizing you have your period.’
‘What’s that?’
She had taken me by surprise. Every day in this place I learn something new. Cristina went on to give me all the details.
‘Tricks of the trade, sweetheart. If you have a client, instead of using a tampon, use a nice big soft sea sponge. Cut off a bit, otherwise it will be too big. While you’re having sex, the client won’t notice a thing.’
‘Does it really work?’ I asked, still only half-convinced.
‘Of course it does! Try it and you’ll see.’
This woman is determined to make sure I earn as much as possible.
‘I’m telling you this because tonight there are two politicians from Madrid who want girls. I’m sending Cindy, and I think you’d be good too. They want girls they can be seen having a drink with. For the moment, they’ve paid for an hour just chatting, but nothing more. I’m sure though that if they get on with you, they’ll take you back to their hotel.’
I thought it over for a minute, and decided it might be interesting. I would agree.
‘All right. What time will it be?’
‘At midnight. Only one of them knows you’re being paid. It has to look like a chance meeting, as though you were a friend of his. His colleague is never to know all this has been set up, understand?’
‘Yes, but how will it work?’
The whole thing seemed absurd to me.
‘Manuel, our accomplice – to call him something – will arrive at the bar with his friend around midnight. He’ll be wearing a grey suit, and a red Loewe tie. When you see him, you go up and ask if he remembers meeting you at such-and-such a place. Remember, you go up to him. Then he’ll ask both of you to have a drink with them, and you sit with them. No problem!’
‘All right, I’ll make sure things go smoothly.’
‘Good. Manuel has already seen Cindy’s photo, and I’ve told him about you. You speak Spanish better than she does, so it’s up to you to set everything up. Your friend has just arrived from Lisbon, by the way.’ She paused, then wrote an address on a piece of paper. ‘Twelve midnight in this bar. Come here first to pick up Cindy, then the two of you go on there.’
‘Got it.’
‘And then the day after tomorrow, I’ll see you at six in the morning, right?’
‘Right.’