Part 29 (2/2)

'Your husband destroyed his beloved garden before he left,' says Doris finally.

'Left?'

'Didn't you know? Your husband has left Britannia Road. He's moved away.' She steps back, as if ready to take a bow now she has delivered her line. 'You're on your own now, young lady. You made your bed, you can blooming well lie in it.'

And she stalks away, head held high and triumphant.

Aurek pulls on Silvana's sleeve. He has eaten all the chocolate.

'I'll buy you some more,' Silvana says, watching Doris disappear into the crowds. 'We can stay out a bit longer.'

They sit in front of a blue beach hut and watch dark clouds enveloping the sky as the sun drapes its red light into the sea. The sky turns turquoise, and Aurek says it is the colour of a blackbird's egg.

When the stars come out, Silvana and Aurek curl up together on the beach. Ja.n.u.sz has left them. She has failed both him and the boy and her poor dead baby. She sees Tony on the pier looking for them. She can't pretend everything is all right tonight. He stands under the street light, looking at his watch, and then walks back towards the house. She watches him go.

Silvana pulls the boy onto her lap and they stay there until a salty dampness has soaked their clothes and Aurek asks for his bed.

The front door is open, the light in the hall left on. Silvana and Aurek tiptoe upstairs. While Aurek climbs into his camp bed, she opens the door to the main bedroom. Tony is snoring lightly. She goes downstairs, gathers up some of the old newspapers the house is filled with and hunts through the kitchen drawers. She finds a pair of scissors and carries them to the living room, where she spreads the newspapers in front of her and begins cutting out pictures of children. She is businesslike about it, scanning page after page. When she finds a child's image, she stops and studies the article that accompanies it. She still doesn't read English very well, but she is quick to spot certain words and phrases. Orphans... missing Orphans... missing... lost... last seen... A tragic story... A mother's sorrow lost... last seen... A tragic story... A mother's sorrow. Sometimes the children are smiling in their photographs, as if they can see the ghosts of their families around them. Each face makes her cry for her own dead son.

She works quietly through until she has a stack of cuttings in front of her. Looking up to rest her eyes, she watches the lights on the seafront. Even in the forest, she never felt as lost as this.

Poland

Silvana

A soldier climbed down from the first truck, hands out as if he were approaching a pair of cornered animals.

'All right now,' the soldier's voice rang out. 'Do you know? Do you know yet?'

Silvana backed away, pulling Aurek into her embrace.

'The war. It's over. You speak English? Polsku? Polsku?'

'Polsku? Tak.'

He beckoned to a couple more men, who got down from their vehicles and walked over. One of them handed Silvana a metal flask in a harness, and she took it cautiously.

'Go ahead, it's water,' he said. 'Drink. Here. Like this.' He held his hand to his lips and mimed drinking.

Silvana took it and tipped it back like he had. The water ran down her chin. She lifted the bottle and let the cold water run over her face.

'You go right ahead. But you can drink it too if you like.' He put his thumb to his mouth and made a glugging noise.

Aurek snickered and snorted. He ran in circles, his thumb pressed to his lips. Silvana looked back at the forest. All along the line of trucks, men stood watching them. Aurek kept on laughing and Silvana began to laugh too. When she stopped and looked at all those faces surrounding her, she was surprised. They looked unhappy. Like they'd seen too many sad films. Or maybe they thought she had.

One of the soldiers came towards her speaking in Polish.

'What's your name?'

She thought for a moment. Who should she say she was? Marysia? Hanka? She coughed, felt her throat dry with the effort of speaking. She decided to be herself.

'Silvana Nowak.'

'Do you have any identification papers?'

She looked at Aurek playing in the dirt beside her, pulled him to his feet and held him close.

'My son.'

'OK,' said the soldier. 'Can I see your papers?'

'My son,' Silvana repeated.

The soldier folded his arms, looked at her quizzically.

'Where do you live?'

'What year is this?'

'1945. Where'd you come from?'

Silvana looked back at the forest and the trees. She didn't need to hide any more.

'Warsaw,' she said, wondering if it still existed. 'We come from Warsaw.'

Ipswich

Ja.n.u.sz fits ten trees into the car. It seems a shame to get mud on the upholstery, but these are the last trees he will be taking. The garden is deeply planted now and although he knows birch trees are not bothered by overcrowding, he still wants to give them the best chance he can. He wishes there was some other way to get the trees than filling up his car with mud, but Gilbert says he will help him clean the car out when they get back home.

He digs up a birch from the hedgerow while Gilbert waits with an old curtain to wrap its roots in.

'I still think you should give him a thumping.'

'So did I. To begin with. Now I just don't want to see him. Fighting is not my way of doing things.'

'I've known Tony for years. I never thought he'd play such a mean trick.'

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