Part 31 (2/2)

'Did you enjoy your holiday?' Henryk asks.

'Not really.' I don't see the point in lying.

'You fall out with your boyfriend?'

'How did you know that?'

'You hesitated when cooking sausages, which tells me cosy dinner for two is not on your cards tonight. Besides, recently you have been listening to lots of slow, sad records by way of making point that you are brokenhearted. I turn on your radio. It is Heart FM. The CDs piled by the side of the stereo: Dido, Ella Fitzgerald and Celine Dion.'

'Quite the detective, aren't you?' I'm not sure whether to feel annoyed by the invasion of privacy, impressed by his perceptiveness or flattered that someone is taking an interest in me.

'Do you want to talk about it?'

It turns out that I do. We share two pots of tea and four beers as I tell Henryk all the gruesome details. In the main he stays quiet, only interrupting to say 'Jesus H. Christ' when absolutely necessary. When I reveal my boyfriend's married status and the fact that my best friend is a bigamist, for example.

'So why did she marry the old guy when she was married to your guy?' asks Big H. Despite the serious nature of this question, it makes me smile. The old guy, Philip, is at least ten years younger than Henryk.

'I don't know. I don't think she does. Philip proposed, who'd have thought she'd accept it? What with her talent for evasion. She says she loves him.'

'Maybe she does.'

'I think she loves Stevie.'

'I am confused. She left Stevie.'

'Then she did. Because things were a bit tough. They were very young and poor.'

'Lots of people are very young and poor and they make it. Maybe there is an attraction but that doesn't mean they are in love.'

I really hope Henryk isn't going to talk about s.e.x. I've had a difficult enough day as it is.

'A shared history is valuable but maybe those two weren't right for each other and they know it,' he adds.

'It is true that when things aren't right for her she moves on. Jobs, homes, friends. I just never expected her nomadic ways to stretch as far as husbands.'

'You disapprove of her?'

'Yes, I do.'

'Are you jealous?' asks Big H as he sips his beer.

'Most definitely.' I smile, 'I don't have the ability to move on, call it a day and learn from experience. Bella is the opposite. She can't stick with anything for more than five minutes.'

'You make her sound unpleasant.'

'Do I? Well, she isn't. I wish she was. She's decent opposition in the struggle for Stevie's affections.'

'Is that what you are doing? Fighting for his affections?'

I decide not to answer this one. It's a little too foreign and direct. Instead, I stick to describing Bella. 'She's fun, clever and beautiful. When she talks to you, you feel flattered, singled out, appreciated.'

'And this Stevie, how did he make you feel?'

I consider this for a moment. Is it worth explaining to Henryk that Stevie made me feel alive, vibrant, understood and valuable? Or should I tell him that the biggest thrill was that Stevie made me feel normal and confident, both in myself and in my future.

In the end I say, 'Happy. He made me feel so happy.'

'Is it so impossible to imagine this thing fixed?' asks Big H.

I glare at him. Emotions are tender, sacrosanct and ephemeral. A situation as messy and complex as this can't be fixed like a damp patch or a broken lock. Some cracks are just too huge to paper over. Henryk pushes on: 'Has either Bella or the boyfriend been in touch?'

'Bella called me a lot in the beginning. Whenever I saw her ID on the phone I let the machine pick up. I didn't listen to her messages, just erased them. She has nothing to say that I want to hear. And Stevie only tried once. He sent a letter.'

'What did it say?'

'I don't know. I put it in the bin, unopened. I was tempted to write ”Return to sender” on it and post it back to him but I decided against it. I didn't want to seem playful.'

'Why didn't you read it?'

'I don't need to read his b.l.o.o.d.y letter. He's told me everything I need to know by the fact that he only tried to get in touch once! He doesn't care.'

Besides, if I'd read the letter I might have weakened. If it was full of entreaties and pleas, who's to know that I'd have the strength to resist? And resist I must.

'You are a tough woman,' says Henryk.

Am I? I'm amazed. I've been worrying that I'm a bit of a pushover. Stevie and Bella certainly saw me as a sap.

'You need to talk to him.'

'I'm never going to talk to him again,' I say categorically.

'Not the boyfriend. The old one. You have to speak to Philip.'

'Oh, Henryk, you haven't got some half-a.r.s.ed plan that Phil and I will get it together. Life doesn't work out like that. He's a nice guy but I don't even fancy him. Besides, I'm in-'

'In love with Stevie,' says Henryk. 'I know.' He holds my gaze with his old soul eyes. The guy smells of cement and is wearing a lumberjack s.h.i.+rt yet he has more depth and sensitivity than a nineteenth-century romantic poet. It is a bit of a shame that there aren't more men like Henryk around. Like him, but in their thirties and without the moustache.

'Jesus H. Christ, of course I don't think you get romantic with the other husband. This situation is big mess enough. But maybe you help each other.' Henryk looks at his watch and seems startled. 'I must get home. It is good to speak with you, Laura, but my wife doesn't like me late and in truth, I don't like being late to her. I must go and you must get your son to bed.'

Henryk leaves my key, tells me he'll be in touch regarding the invoice but he has a good enough heart not to mention a figure now. I see him to the door and thank him for taking the time to talk to me.

'It is a pleasure. You are good woman and you'll make good man happy, I know it.'

Then he rushes away, taking the stairs two at a time, to hurry home to his wife. As his green and purple checked s.h.i.+rt fades into the distance, I decide what I want. I want what Henryk and his wife have. I don't want to just get old in someone's company, I want to grow old being adored. I want my husband to rush home to me, long after he's in his fifties, two stairs at a time.

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