Swimming in the Dark - Tomasz Jedrowski Page 0,42

Gierek glared at me. He was shaking hands with someone off-frame, his face mousy and thin-lipped and so utterly smug. My hands turned into fists inside my coat.

‘Number thirty-three!’

It was my turn. Behind the glass, in her little cubicle, the nurse kept her eyes on the papers in front of her. I explained everything again, this time in more detail, trying to sound humble, to make it seem as serious as it felt.

‘Is the patient here?’ she interrupted, looking up for the first time.

‘She’s at home. I need to speak to a doctor, about the symptoms.’

Her expression was lifeless, bored. ‘This is a hospital. Come back with the patient or take her to a doctor’s office. Number thirty-four!’ Her eyes discarded me.

‘Please, I already went there, they have no appointments this week. Can’t I just see a doctor for a moment?’

‘I don’t make up the rules around here. Number thirty-four!’

I was about to protest again when someone shoved me away from the counter. Heat sprung up in me.

‘Move,’ huffed the middle-aged man who’d been queuing behind me, smelling of sweat and onions. ‘You’re not the only one here with problems.’

I wanted to push him to the floor, to bang my fists against the lady’s window, to scream my lungs out at them. I had a vision of myself doing just that, clear and vivid as if it were actually happening, and this scared me. I left without saying a word, without looking at her or the man again. I walked out on to the street, full of anger, feeling my legs tense. I walked as if in a trance, hardly knowing where I was. Until I felt a touch on my shoulder, and I saw that I was on the New World Promenade, without knowing why. A stranger, a man in a suit and tie, was standing in front of me. Then I saw that it was you. You, looking like a different person. Your hair combed to the side, your leather shoes gleaming. I despised you for the sympathy I saw on your face.

‘What are you doing here? What happened?’ you asked as we stood in the middle of the street.

‘Pani Kolecka … blood … no doctors.’ I felt tears rising in me. Tears of anger, I think. You put your hand on my shoulder, heavy and warm.

‘Come on, Ludzio, we’ll go and have coffee somewhere. I’m on my lunch break. We’ll figure something out.’

Your hand moved down to my back, guiding me along with you. I resisted its push.

‘Let go of me, Janusz,’ I said through gritted teeth. ‘I’ve had enough of figuring things out. Enough of the talk.’

You were undeterred; your hand stayed where it was.

‘Ludzio, you need to calm down. Let’s not make a scene in public. Let’s go.’

I pushed your hand off, its weight freeing me. ‘Go back to your office,’ I said, the fury pouring out of me. ‘And to her if you like.’ Your face changed – understood, maybe. I turned quickly and left you standing there by yourself.

At the next empty telephone box, I dialled the only number I knew by heart. It rang several times, the beeping slow and plaintive.

‘Ludwik, my child.’ The tenderness in her raspy voice shook me to the core. There was loneliness in that voice too, and exhaustion, a voice no longer used to speaking, one that had used up most of its words. ‘Is everything alright, my love?’ she asked. I could sense the stillness of our old flat while around me throngs of people rushed past. I nodded into the receiver.

‘Yes, Granny. I’m alright. I just wanted to hear you.’ I breathed in deeply. ‘It’s so good to hear you. How are you?’

‘I’m well,’ she said gravely. ‘Don’t worry about me. May God protect you, my love. Come home soon, yes?’

Familiar guilt stirred in me, together with a longing for that faraway part of my childhood when everything had seemed almost carefree. ‘Yes, Granny, I will.’

I put down the phone and walked on, agitated by my powerlessness. I walked with rage in my body, the old shame stirring, reawakening in the depths of my stomach, heavy and hard and sharp. I walked in the direction of the flat, my eyes fixed on the pavement, on the cracks in the concrete.

I came upon a large queue by a grocery store and, without knowing why, I stopped dead in my tracks. A rush went through the street, an undeniable shift of energy. As if it was about