Alik nods impatiently. He’s completely absorbed in the story. Anything to do with our action in the field is fascinating to him. Since we were kids he has been our mentor in such matters.
“…The girl doesn’t know what to do. She looks at the other guy — they all know each other there — and she looks at Marat. And the other guy smiles confidently, really arrogant, ‘Come on, Galka,’ he says, ‘how long are you going to keep me waiting?’ And he grabs hold of her hand. But she…” — at this point Lucky laughs, and every one else does the same — “…jerks her hand away and goes with Marat. Can’t you just see it? Well, then it really kicked off!”
“What did she die of?” Vika, still examining the room, asked in a low voice (at least she managed to get that bit right).
“Her lungs… But how did you know
