‘Private classes? Where? In your home?’
‘Unless you have a better idea.’
The woman thought for a moment.
‘My teachers are English natives. But I know Ramona is looking for work. She’s a Spanish language teacher.’
‘Does she speak English?’
‘Of course. Here’s her number. I will let her know to expect your call.’ She handed him a square of paper. ‘But you should meet her in a café, first. Introduce yourself. You understand. I cannot send teachers to the homes of strange men.’
It took him another week to muster the courage to make the call.
He met Ramona in a café on Calle León y Castillo near the waterfront. He spotted her on entry, the only woman occupying a table by herself decked out in a figure-hugging dress. She had long and thick black hair, and bow-shaped lips painted a lurid re
