War Torn

Chapter Twenty-two

‘NOW THEN, THIS SHOULD DO IT . . .’ DARREL CROUCHED DOWN beside the television. ‘And if it doesn’t, I’ve got another idea.’Agnieszka set his coffee on the table and then knelt down to watch him. The baby lay on the floor nearby. Luke liked that. He liked just lying there, staring up at the ceiling, rearranging himself from time to time. When the atmosphere was tranquil he became tranquil too.‘How you know what to do?’ Agnieszka stared at the nest of wires and the way he flicked through the buttons and settings on the machine.He looked up and gave her a quick grin. His eye was caught by a picture behind her, the large one at the back of the room. Jamie was in uniform and smiling, his eyes shining as he looked over the camera as though a mountain was looming right there behind the photographer and he was about to climb it. Agnieszka loved that picture. Steve Buckle had taken it when the platoon was training in Kenya. She had enlarged it and then bought a nice frame.Darrel gazed at the photo for a few moments longer than politeness demanded. Then he turned back to his wires and answered her question.‘I’ve always been good with this sort of stuff. When I was a kid I used to take things apart to see how they worked. And my dad always made me put them back together again myself, he wouldn’t help me. Sometimes I hated him. But it meant I learned a lot.’She watched him work. Now she knew his face better she could see that he was handsome. The first time she had met him she had liked his smile but found him ordinary enough. Since then the tapering lines of his face had pleased her more and more.It occurred to her now that she could draw those clean lines. On impulse she fetched her sketch pad. It was at the back of a cupboard where, despite Jamie’s encouragement, she barely looked at it these days. She settled on the sofa sketching his dark features as he bent over in concentration. He was older than Jamie and that made his lines deeper and stronger. Jamie was certainly good-looking but his face still had youthful curves which reminded you of the boy he’d been until a few years ago. Whereas Darrel was more of a man.Luke, on the rug, murmured sometimes to himself. Otherwise the room was quiet except for the scratching of her pencil strokes. Darrel did not know she was drawing him until he looked up. He stared at the pad.‘Show me!’‘When it finished. You please continue.’‘But I have finished. Look.’He retreated to the armchair where Jamie usually sat, pressed some buttons on the remote and the TV sprang into life, its picture clear. He turned down the sound and then zapped through the silent channels to prove that he could.Agnieszka was delighted. She watched the pictures rushing past with a smile on her face. That game show was here again, the one where you watched the faces of people who had won a million, or won it and then lost it all. And then that channel was gone, replaced by leopards on a wildlife programme which gave way to a splinter of a soap opera with sulking, angry faces, which was rapidly replaced by a serious newscaster who turned suddenly into a football match. The whole world, in its infinite variety, was galloping past as Darrel zapped his way through the channels. Agnieszka thought: That’s how my life feels. As if the whole wide, colourful world out there rushes by while I sit here alone in Wiltshire.The picture disappeared altogether and Darrel turned to her.‘Oh, Darrel, that very clever what you done!’‘You can tell me I’m clever if it’s still working next week.’ He looked pleased. ‘I’ll phone you to check. Now let’s see what you’re drawing.’She sighed. ‘I only start five minutes ago . . .’But he was delighted with her sketch. He looked carefully at every line and then held it at arm’s length. He told her how good it was until she went pink with pleasure.‘Please, take this home with you. Maybe your wife like it also.’She’d seen his wedding ring, of course. She’d noticed it the first time she met him at the garage. They’d met at the superstore, then he’d come to the house to diagnose the problem with the TV and she’d given him a cup of tea and they’d talked. He’d said she needed some gadget and now here he was installing it. That was three, no four meetings. And he’d never once mentioned his wife. Today was Saturday. Didn’t she ask him where he went? This thought filled Agnieszka with apprehension. She wasn’t sure why.‘My wife won’t like this picture.’ He smiled at her. ‘Because it looks just like me.’Agnieszka blinked at him.‘I’m separated.’‘Long time ago?’‘No.’‘Since when?’‘Since I had that cup of coffee with you.’‘But that was only . . .’‘A month ago.’‘You just separate!’‘Listen, Aggie, these things don’t happen overnight. Everything’s wrong and you put up with it and think this is just the way things are. But everyone’s unhappy. And sooner or later you have to admit it to yourself. And do something about it.’Agnieszka felt her heart beating faster but she did not know why. Anyway, whatever her heart was doing, her head needed time to go through this slowly and methodically.‘So one day, the day of superstore coffee, you say: Enough! And you leave your wife?’‘Sort of.’‘Not exactly?’‘My wife was in the store that day and she saw us.’Agnieszka leaned back on the sofa, her head tilted, and looked at the ceiling. She didn’t know where else to look. Her long, slim neck swept up to her jawline, her chin jutted towards the roof. Darrel watched her. Agnieszka rolled her eyes.‘Oh God, God, everyone was in superstore that day. Was it half-price special offer day, maybe?’Darrel smiled.‘You, me, my wife . . . who else was there? Oh yes, your neighbour with the little girl.’‘The sergeant’s wife. She didn’t see you.’‘I made sure of that. But I didn’t realize my wife was around as well. And she saw us talking.’‘So marriage ends?’ Agnieszka stared at him now, her blue eyes very round. ‘Marriage ends because you take coffee with me?’‘It was ending anyway, Aggie. Coffee just finished it off.’‘But she must understand we only take coffee!’Darrel shook his head.‘She saw me talking to you. Like I really wanted to hear what you had to say? Like I found you interesting? And she said it was years since I talked to her that way. And she was right.’‘And marriage ends?’ Agnieszka was leaning forward. She was whispering. Just saying the words felt sinful enough. ‘Marriage ends because of way you talk to me?’He shrugged. He did not look sad, contrite, hurt or anything a man at the end of his marriage might look.‘After many years?’‘Eight.’She shook her head as though she was trying to shake it clear.‘Because of coffee? With me?’‘Because it had already ended years ago. So all it took was one coffee to finish it off completely.’‘So now what you do?’‘I’ve moved out. I’m staying with my mother, for the time being. Until I can get myself sorted. Gillian and the kids have stayed at home.’‘You have kids?’‘Three.’‘Three!’He laughed at her amazement.‘Well, it’s not so unusual in this country. How many do people in Poland have? Ten?’‘Usual to stop with one. Sometimes a long, long time before two. And three not very ordinary.’But it wasn’t the number of children itself which amazed her. It was the nonchalance with which he could end the marriage that supported so many. It gave her an uncomfortable feeling: unease with her own role in this. How could meeting a man in a shop and having a coffee with him result in such a thing? Had the wife, watching unnoticed, detected an interest in Agnieszka which Agnieszka had been unaware of? Or had she been aware of his interest but chosen to ignore it because she wanted her TV repaired? The thought made her curl up on the sofa. It made her feel unclean.Darrel said quietly: ‘It’s not your fault.’But she did not uncurl. So she had unwittingly ended this man’s marriage. It wasn’t her fault. But did that leave her with some responsibilities towards him?She heard him get up. What was he doing now? Crossing the room? She did not uncurl to see. She shut her eyes and ears and said Aves to herself to keep them shut. Then she remembered. She should pay him for repairing the television, for the gadget he had bought. If she didn’t pay him then there was an implication of friendship. Or obligation.She jumped up. The room was empty except for Luke, now asleep on the floor, his mouth open and his hands up as though he was under arrest. Her sketch lay on the sofa.She ran to the door but she was too late. His car was just pulling away.