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Bandit women tie him up, and familiar faces meet.
It might have been a horribly ugly monstrosity, but it had been built for the Party elite and the size and quality of the units there went way beyond what the people's republic had actually made for its people.
Izabela wanted to point out the high points of the cathedral-like building that housed the hot springs; the girls shared another brief, knowing look and glided off through the warm water. They didn't look back, daring me to follow them. I felt ungainly as I struggled to keep pace with them through the chest-deep mineralized water; I couldn't see their bodies below the surface, but somehow they slid through it like swans, while all my exertions could barely keep pace with them.
I felt as though I was losing control of the situation -- still kidding myself that I'd ever been in control. Our conversation had managed to shift away from its more personal beginnings and towards a tour of the communist finery of the architecture. But I needn't have worried. The subtext became clear then the girls guided me to a smaller circular part of the pool partially hidden from view behind an immense pillar. It was three quarters of a circle like a hot tub, again with steps to sit on under the surface, and I found myself sitting back up to my neck in the warm embrace of the water with one girl on either side.
The pillar concealed us from all but a small segment of the pool, and at that moment nobody was within eyeshot. Magdalena slowly scanned her gaze all around us and smiled demurely back at me, elegantly making the point that we were alone. The two girls were close to me but not touching, and they gazed once more in rapt attention as we talked.
They asked me why I had come to work at the university. At that time, wages were so low that everyone in Poland was desperate to leave; top academics were immigrating illegally to the USA and Western Europe to drive minicabs or wash dishes for less than the minimum wage. Why would anyone move the other way?
This was my chance to cement my role as a wealthy playboy, and I jumped at it. Without mentioning that I'd never done a real day's work in my life and that all of my funds came from emptying my father's savings account, I tried to let slip casually that I did very well in the UK and that my university wages would be an offhand day's pocket money for me. I explained how fascinated I was to experience Polish culture, and how my hefty savings allowed me to take a full year off. I was careful to mention a few of my 'standard' activities, things that would be far beyond the reach of almost anyone in the county -- taking international flights, the restaurants I ate at, the designer clothes I wore.
The girls' reaction was everything I could have hoped for. Their eyes glowed as my standing with them clearly ascended to even greater heights. Invisible under the water, I felt Izabela's hand close around mine and gently squeeze it, in what seemed to be a casual and unthinking action. The intimacy of her touch shocked me. Had I not been sitting on the tiled step and almost floating in the warm water I would have physically reeled, but she didn't even break her sentence. The squeeze of her hand was an intoxicating secret that the two of us shared.
In light of my vaunted wealth, she warned me that the banks were not to be trusted. Rumors were rife that the government was planning on freezing assets, and the foreign currency controls were terrible for anyone fool enough not to change their money on the thriving black market. That gave me another chance to show what a worldly and sharp witted man I was -- I told the girls that I would have nothing to do with the usurious banking system, as I was, as I put it, a "cash man". I told them that green money was what ruled, and they nodded in approval and respect for my wisdom. I was still drunk on their attention, and on Izabela's touch below the water.
As we carried on talking, Magdalena continued to pay close attention but never say