22 Britannia Road - Amanda Hodgkinson [73]
Janusz looks at Aurek lying in bed and strokes the boy’s forehead. He is a normal child. Just like any other. The doctor has just said so. There is a whole world of renewed hope in chickenpox.
When Janusz wakes again at dawn and goes to see the patient, Aurek’s temperature has disappeared and a rash covers his body. The sight of these miraculous spots makes Janusz laugh out loud.
‘Hungry,’ says Aurek, picking at a row of tiny red blisters on his cheek.
‘Are you? Well, that’s a good thing. Come here and look out of the window. I’ve something to show you.’
Silvana is sitting on the edge of the bed looking dazed, as if the blue light of the morning beginning to edge into the room confuses her.
‘There,’ he says as they look down on a white world. ‘Snow. Lots of it. It must have snowed all night.’ He turns to Silvana. ‘You look exhausted.’
Silvana nods, yawns and rubs her eyes. She falls back onto Aurek’s bed and curls up into herself, arms wrapped around her knees. Janusz pauses, looking at her pale cheek, her long-lashed eyes closed as if she is sleeping. He remembers her when she was pregnant with their son, all those years ago, the way she liked to sleep in that position, her arms around her belly as though it were something she was guarding.
She opens her eyes. ‘Thank you for last night. You got the doctor and all I could do was act like a mad woman, calling for birch bark.’
‘You made me think of your grandmother.’
‘She was a good woman.’
‘So are you.’
Janusz takes her hand. This is the closest he has felt to her for months. Aurek being ill has brought them together. And it is right that the boy is the bond between them.
‘I’ll never leave you again,’ he says. ‘Even if there’s another war. I won’t go.’
The moment is obvious to him.
‘Silvana. I think we should try for another child. Give Aurek a little brother.’
Silvana doesn’t reply, and he leans over her and kisses her, feeling her stiffen against his touch.
‘You’re tired,’ he says, pretending not to notice. ‘You should sleep. I won’t disturb you.’
He covers her with a blanket, tucking it around her.
‘Come on,’ he says to Aurek. ‘Let’s get you breakfast. Brush your teeth and wash and I’ll make you porridge.’
While the boy is washing, Janusz goes out into the garden. Everything is covered in white and the sky looks full of more snow to come. Feathery flakes fall steadily around him. In his tiny potting shed he checks his dahlia bulbs are well covered with sand. He is about to shut the door when he stops, lifts the crate of bulbs and pulls a bundle of letters out from under them. He puts them back under the crate. One day he will get rid of them. One day soon. He loves Silvana but he can’t let go of Hélène. Not just yet.
Aurek sits in the kitchen, his eyes sticky with sleep, eating a bowl of porridge. He feels quite well but he can’t understand where the spots have come from. He keeps lifting his pyjama top to look at them. He’d like to ask the enemy to look at them too, but he is busy. Janusz is sitting with his back to him, polishing his boots, buffing black leather, holding up a shining toecap to the light and then furiously rubbing at it all over again, his elbow sliding back and forth like a fiddle player.
‘Are you cold?’ Janusz says, turning his flushed face to Aurek. ‘I can get you a blanket if you’re cold.’
Aurek shakes his head and gives the spots on his cheek a scratch.
‘Don’t touch them,’ warns Janusz. ‘Come on, eat your porridge.’
Aurek takes a spoonful.
‘We’re all right together, aren’t we?’ says Janusz. ‘You and me?’
Janusz puts his boots on the floor and rubs them over with a cloth.
‘Would you like a brother one day? Or a sister? Aurek, are you listening? A new baby would be fun, wouldn’t it?’
Aurek considers this. He thinks of his mother and shakes his head. He doesn’t want to share her with a baby.
‘Well, we might one day. One day we might give you a brother, and you’d be the eldest. You’d have to help look after him.’
Janusz pulls his boots on.
‘We don’t get much time on our own, do we?