6. Boris

Amber Gold International was on Chaka Street, in a 1920's art nouveau block that was part roach hotel and part cheap office rentals. Like the adjacent buildings, its external rendering was chipped and peeling. On the concrete floor, just inside the entrance, was a puddle of thawed snow.

Tanya arrived, clutching shopping bags and her suitcase, and stepped over the water before stamping her feet to dislodge the snow on her boots. She was not put off by the dilapidated surroundings; a lot of small businesses were run from such places.

She guessed she had walked four or five kilometres since the train and, as she wearily climbed the stairs to the third floor, she wondered why she hadn't brought her case here first, then gone to the shops. Poor decision, she thought. So far, the trip had not been very comfortable; especially the long rail journey with a full bladder.

"Because I left home without sitting for the full sixty seconds of the quiet minute," she muttered. "You see, Nikolai, my love, it's not superstitious rubbish!"

She paused to check she was on the right floor before pushing through a pair of swing doors into a long narrow corridor. It was lit by a series of quietly humming fluorescent tubes. There were no windows. Along each side were doors with plastic plaques displaying company titles and she read each one as she passed.

She was surprised by the lack of noise and put her ear to one of the doors. She heard voices but not what was being said. She crossed to the opposite door. There were electronic sounds, like a printer, then a phone rang. She moved on to the next door, listened and caught the muffled moans of a woman having sex. She pulled back quickly and received a further shock when she read the company title: A.G. Productions.

Was that A.G. as in Amber Gold? She hurried along the corridor and discovered the next office was the job agency. Once again, Tanya felt a sudden emptiness in her belly as her hopes evaporated. Her hands trembled with disappointment. How could she have been so naive? The instinct to run and cry her way home was huge. But she had come this far, she might as well go in and talk to them. She took a deep breath, tossed her hair back off her shoulders and knocked on the door.

"Come in!" It was Boris' voice.

Her first impression of the office and of the solitary man seated at a desk was not a bad one. The room was tastefully decorated, with modern art on the walls, some well-tended pot plants and what seemed to be a new carpet on the floor. There were two plain wooden desks, both with computer terminals, and several metal filing cabinets. Boris stood and came forward to shake her hand.

"Hello!" he said in a loud and friendly voice. "You must be Tanya. I'm Boris, great to meet you!"

"You too," she said.

He closed the door behind her and helped to remove her coat before directing her to a chair in front of his desk. Tanya hesitated; waiting to see if he could maintain eye contact, or if he would allow his gaze to wander. Dressed in a breast-hugging jumper and short skirt, with knee-high winter boots, she was aware of how she looked. Unlike most guys, Boris passed her simple "lech test".

"Please, sit down," he insisted. "Did you find us easily? I hope you didn't have to walk far with all those bags. Can I offer you a drink? Tea, coffee, juice?"

Concerned enquiries flowed smoothly from his tongue and Tanya gave concise answers, while observing him and trying to assess the situation. He was in his mid-twenties, clean-shaven with polished shoes. His trousers were smart, his shirt ironed and his tie bore abstract designs, like the paintings on the walls. He filled two cups with filter coffee and passed one to her across the desk. Then he sat down, still talking.

"This will be your first visit to London. You must be very excited. I have been twice now. A beautiful city, many interesting sights. But big, very big. I think you will be amazed at the size of it. There are more people in London than all three Baltic states together. Our Riga would be only a suburb....."

"Are you in the pornography business?" interrupted Tanya.

It was not her intention to be rude but she could not hold back any longer. Boris rocked in his chair, as if the question had physically hit him in the chest. Then he smiled and leaned forward, resting both hands palm-down on the desk.

"That was direct," he said. "I see you have concerns. Please, ask me anything."

"I heard noises in the next office. Is this the same company as A.G. Productions?"

"No, at least not....."

"I cannot believe such a coincidence. Your agency, Amber Gold International, is next to A.G. Productions!"

She expected a denial or flowery explanation. Both responses would give her the final proof she needed to walk away.

"It's no coincidence," said Boris, unruffled by Tanya's brusque tone. "We have nothing to hide. Legally, we are separate companies but I am director of both."

"So, you make porn movies."

"I prefer to call them erotic movies. The word 'pornography' evokes a sense of crudeness and disrespect that is far removed from what we do. Our movies are aimed at an audience of loving couples and all the actors are consenting adults. They are well paid too, even though most are amateurs doing it for their own personal pleasure. We never depict acts of violence and we don't exploit children."

Boris paused to give Tanya a moment to consider her response. She was startled by his openness and unsure what to say. He filled the silence before it became awkward.

"This job agency cost a lot to set up." He waved a hand at the room. "Apart from the office equipment, the rent and the phone bills, there are many other overheads. You know what it's like in this country, Tanya. The instant you turn a profit, the rackets demand their cut. It's impossible for honest entrepreneurs to get ahead. In fact," he leaned further forward and lowered his voice as if taking her into a confidence, "without the income from next door this office could not survive. Not yet. Maybe in another year, with a few more contacts around the world." He leaned back again. "So there you have it. Like I said, we have nothing to hide. In a few years we'll be the best job agency in the Baltic. Meanwhile, the success of our movie productions will keep the wolves from the door! Have I said enough to frighten you away?"

"No," said Tanya. "I didn't expect..... Actually, I didn't know what to expect."

"I suggest you go for a walk and think about things. Your ticket is here and I have printed a copy of your student story to use at immigration. Read it later, if you still want the job. All I ask is that you tell me if you change your mind. It's not a problem. I can write off the cost of your ticket as a tax deduction."

Tanya felt a pang of guilt for doubting his sincerity.

"It's ok," she said. "I still want to go to London."

Boris smiled broadly. "That's great. You'll have the experience of a lifetime. And you'll be knocking on my door the day after you come back demanding another job; somewhere even more exotic! How about America? Or Japan? Lots of work in Japan. Weird people, the Japanese; they think it's rude to blow their noses in public. They snort back their snot instead. Loudly! Even in restaurants! But they pay well."

Tanya responded to his smile. "I think this adventure will be enough for me."

"That's what they all say! At first!"

She asked if she could leave her bags in his office, while she went for another look at the shops.

"No problem," said Boris. "I'll be locking up at six o'clock, so try to be here by then and I'll take you to the apartment. You're welcome to join my family for dinner; my wife is a wonderful cook. The children will show-off and be very noisy when they see you. Do you like children?"

"I love them. And it's kind of you to invite me but I don't think I'll be able to eat tonight. I'm too excited."

Boris helped her with her coat and accompanied her down to the street.

"I forgot to ask you," said Tanya. "Is my boss male or female? I want to buy a gift."

"He is a man," said Boris. "But remember you are travelling as a student. You must be able to explain your gifts to immigration, if they decide to search you."

"Does he have children?"

"That I do not know."

"Ok, I'll see you later," said Tanya. "Six o'clock."

She almost skipped along the street, free from the weight of her suitcase; free also from any last doubts about her trip to London.