Steve was staying at the Grand Hotel Europe, much improved on its soviet incarnation as the Yevropeyska. He was hungry, but not for the fancy dishes served up at the Europe, so he descended the stairs of a basement cafe he knew. Ducking inside, he braced himself against the ubiquitous rock music blaring out. Steve knew that the food was worth it and so could put up with the noise that assailed him. First he warmed himself with a bowl of Saliyanka followed by Blinchiki and sour cream. Satisfied and set up for the night, Steve went up into the darkening street and back to the hotel to change out of his business suit into something more relaxed.

That night Steve hit a few of the bars along the Nevsky Prospekt. The fall of communism had allowed the entrepreneur just below the surface of every Russian to blossom. The bars were efficient, if uninspiring, and separated Steve from his dollars at an alarming rate. Finally, his head buzzing, Steve headed out into the night. He was in the mood for some sex, to top off his great day. He knew that he didn't have to do anything, there were a couple of high-class prostitutes that hung around in the bar of the hotel, a nod to them and he would be followed to the lift. So, humming happily to himself, Steve turned into Mikhailovskaya and straight into the path of someone hurrying the other way.

Katarina lurched against the well dressed man as he turned the corner. As if by accident she thrust her right hand forward and pressed her palm between his legs. The foreigner jumped and grabbed her by the shoulders to stop her from falling on the slippery pavement.

"Prasteetyeh." Katarina apologised in a timid voice.

"Nichevoh" Steve managed to choke, the little girl's warm hand almost robbing him of the little Russian he had.

"You are American?"

"No English. Is my Russian that bad?"

"Quite bad. Oh!" Katarina pretended to notice where her hand was and let go.

"Sorry! Didn't mean..."

"Don't worry. You slipped."

Steve held the little girl at arms length. She looked to be about 8 years old. Her blonde hair lay in curls down over her shoulders and her skin, normally alabaster white, was tinged with blue. Her thin coat obviously unable to cope with the icy wind.

"What are you doing out on the street on your own? You'll freeze."

"I have nobody. I sleep in the Metro if I can, but tonight I was made to leave."

"I can't leave you out here..."

"Can I stay with you?".....(cont)