22 Britannia Road - Amanda Hodgkinson [48]
‘I wish Aurek would be more polite. That boy is the only friend he’s got. I think I’ll get rid of the shelter.’
‘Is that Aurek’s punishment?’
‘For his behaviour at school? No. I’m not going to punish him. I thought I’d knock down the shelter and build him a tree house.’
‘A tree house?’ Silvana smiles. ‘He’d love that.’
‘Where is Aurek now?’
‘Still in the garden. Why?’
‘Because I want you all to myself for a moment.’
He kisses her, pulling her down onto him.
‘You’re all I want,’ he whispers. ‘You know that? You and the boy.’
His eyes are so blue and clear, they shine with a kind of truth that shames her.
She closes her own eyes and silences him with a kiss, pressing against his warm body, but memories circle her, like wolves in a forest, the same ones that attack her in her dreams. She moans and Janusz misinterprets the sound for pleasure. He pulls her under him and she wills her body to follow his. Only her mind lags behind. She clings to him and her body curves to his shape, gratitude moving her towards a place of unexpected desire. A place where her memories leave her alone and she is briefly full and whole, just like she was before the war.
‘Thank you,’ she says afterwards.
They are lying side by side, breathing heavily.
‘What do you mean?’
She wonders at it herself. What is she thanking him for? For making love to her? Or for helping her forget, no matter how fleetingly, the memories that live under her skin?
‘I don’t know. For finding us, I suppose.’
She gets up, wrapping the sheet around her, and lifts the curtain to look out into the garden, checking Aurek is still safe.
‘I love you,’ says Janusz, sitting up and reaching for his cigarettes. She turns and looks at him.
‘Thank you,’ she says again, and they both laugh.
‘Come back to bed.’
She folds herself into his arms and watches him smoking, a small smile playing on his lips.
I love you too, she thinks, and closes her eyes.
Later, when Janusz has gone to work, Silvana slides an arm into the shelter like a cat searching for a mouse. Aurek strokes her hand. She catches hold of his fingers and pulls him through the broken wooden boards, her hands cupping his head, drawing one shoulder then the next through the gap until finally his legs slip out onto the damp grass. He cries out, and when she has him in front of her, slimy and wet with mud, she holds him tightly to her.
‘You don’t have to hide any more,’ she whispers. ‘This is a new life for us. We are safe here with your father. I promise.’
She feels his grip relax and realizes with a soaring sense of gratitude that she actually believes what she is saying.
The next day Janusz dismantles the shelter, pulling and pushing, digging sharp-edged metal out of the soil.
‘Do you want a hand with that?’ Gilbert Holborn is looking over the fence.
Janusz shakes his head. ‘I’ve nearly finished. I’m making more room for flower beds.’
‘Oh, yes, quite right. Out with the old, eh? Mind you, Doris won’t part with ours just yet. We had plenty of sing-songs in it, me and her and Geena. Our Anderson shelter is a firm favourite. Crazy, innit?’
‘Yes,’ replies Janusz, mimicking Gilbert’s country vowels. ‘Crazy, innit?’
‘And what about your son?’ says Gilbert. ‘What’s he going to do now he’s not got a den to play in?’
‘I’m going to make him a tree house.’
‘That’s a beautiful tree,’ says Gilbert, looking towards the oak. ‘Must be hundreds of years old, I reckon. Not many houses around here have got trees like that in their gardens, I can tell you. And you’re right. It’s perfect for a tree house.’ He pulls out a packet of cigarettes and offers one to Janusz. ‘A tree house and a flower garden. That’ll keep you busy. I’ve got some dahlia tubers you can have, if you’re interested. We’ve got a club going, shows and whatnot. You could join us if you wanted. Where were you based before, Jan? In the war, I mean. I was in the Home Guard myself.’
He passes a box of matches over the fence and Janusz takes them, lighting his cigarette