Hannah had wandered the streets of Rio De Janeiro for an hour and a half and had come to the conclusion that she needed a phone. And a bath. And an air-conditioned hotel room with a mini-bar. But the phone was what she needed first. She reflected that Jess was probably in a posh hotel with four hobbits and a hot tub and scowled. She had to get to that phone.
She came across a rather unpleasant looking caf� and decided to risk it…she went inside and strode up to the counter.
“Hi! Do you have a phone I could use?”
The guy behind the counter gazed at her blankly. “Que?”
“A…PHONE?”
“Que?”
“Do…YOU…HAVE…” Hannah cut herself off. What was the use? The guy clearly didn't have a clue how to speak English. She made a 'phone' symbol with her thumb and little finger.
“A…PHONE?” She waved her hand in the guy's face.
“Que?”
Hannah slapped a hand to her head.
“A PHONE. You know…'Bring! Bring!'?” Hannah proceeded to imitate every phone she had ever heard ringing.
“Que?”
Hannah, in despair, picked up a chicken from the counter and held it to her head.
“Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?” She mimicked talking on the phone into the chicken (trying to suppress her vegan repulsion).
“OH - telephone!” The man said.
“Yes!” Hannah dropped the chicken which was immediately consumed by rats.
“There's a payphone just down the road. Here's some change.” The guy put some coins on the counter.
“But…do you speak English? Did you understand me all along?” Hannah asked.
“Que?”

Hannah grabbed the receiver of the phone and put in her money before quickly dialling her old work number. It took a while for the long distance call to be connected, but finally it started ringing.
“Hello?”
“Oh, thank God!” Hannah cried in relief. “I need to speak to Jess, Jess S****e? She's staying with you.”
Erm…there's no one on our books of that name, madam.” The voice said.
“She may be under the name of Jess Boyd?”
“No.”
“Jess Astin?”
“No.”
“Jess Monaghan?”
“No! Sick, dude, he's her dad!”
“A-ha! So you do know Jess! Where is she?” Hannah demanded.
“She left yesterday. Sorry.”
“What?! Where?”
“She left with her dad and Mr Boyd.”
“SCOTLAND?! THE BITCH HAS GONE TO SCOTLAND?!”
“I'm afraid I don't know.” The voice said.
“Rarr.” Hannah growled.
The voice on the other end of the line waited patiently for a progression in the conversation.
“Do you know what the number is for Directory Enquiries from Rio De Janeiro?”
There was a silence. “00002004000192.”
“Thanks.” Hannah hung up and then picked the receiver up again to dial the number.
“Directory Enquiries Amsterdam, how may I help you?”
“DAMN!”
“Yes, AmsterDAM, how may I help?”
“What's the number for Directory Enquiries in England from Rio De Janeiro.”
“Why don't you just ring straight to where you want?”
“Well I would, if I knew the BLOODY NUMBER!!!” She slammed down the phone. “Inconceivable bastards.” She muttered.
“Hola!” Someone smiled, passing by.
“Piss OFF!” Hannah shouted.
The person turned and looked at her and winked.
“Great.” Hannah cried to herself. “I'm in a random country speaking a random language and 'piss off' is a turn on phrase!!”
5 people walking by looked at her dirtily as they passed.
There was only one solution for this and she had hoped that it wouldn't have to come to it. She picked up the receiver and dialled a ridiculously long number.
“Hello?” A bright ladies voice sounded.
Hannah, through gritted teeth said into the receiver slowly, “Natalie? Can I speak to Daniel please, it's an emergency.”
“Ha ha ha ha ha ha – oh…yes.” The hysterical laughing stopped and there was some brief clicking and scuffling as the phone was passed over.
“Hello?”
“Daniel! Thank God!” Hannah grabbed the receiver in both hands. “Listen to me! I'm in Rio De Janeiro, and I lost Chris in the crowds. I don't know what to do!”
“I'm in Australia, Hannah, what do you want me to do about it?” Hannah paused.
“HELP!” A rat ran over her foot and chewed on her shoelace. “HELP!”
“Look, I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do.”
“HE-“
“Have you called Jess?”
“No, I thought I'd pass on that.” Hannah said, sarcastically. “Of course I've tried Jess! She's buggered off to Scotland.”
“Call Scotland.”
“Oh my God. You're a genius!”
“Thank-“
Hannah hung up. She looked at the few coins she had left and prayed.
“International directory inquiries.”
“Scotland, please!”
“We'll just put you through.” Hannah looked at the floor and stamped on a cockroach.
“Eew.”
“Hello? Scottish directory enquiries?”
“Hi-my-friend-has-gone-to-Scotland-and-I-need-to-find-her-she's-staying-at-Billy-Boyd's-which-is-in-Glasgow-
and-I-haven't-much-money-left-so-hurry-up!” There was a pause.
“Ok.” Hannah heard the tapping of keys on a keyboard. “Have you got a pen?”
Hannah turned to the side of the grubby phone booth and dragged a finger through the dirt, leaving a clear line.
“Er…yeah.”
“4427949497306.”
Hannah wrote the number in the dirt.
“Great, thanks.” Hannah hung up.
“Come on, come on.” Hannah started to pray to God, Buddha and Allah as she dialled. The answer phone.
“SHIT!”
“Hello! This is Billy Boyd! Leave a message after the tone, sorry I'm ouuut.”
Hannah giggled. The tone sounded and she took a deep breath. “He-“ The phone cut out and flashed 'NO MONEY' at her. “NOOOOOOOOOO!!!”