Swimming in the Dark - Tomasz Jedrowski Page 0,68

anyway. Your face was hard again, in a different way. Your jaw stiff, your eyes staring at the floor, hooded from me. Suddenly I felt trapped, seized by a desire to run away. You looked up towards me, your eyes rueful, shimmering.

‘We were all on drugs, Ludzio. You never should have seen us. It didn’t mean anything. It was a game. It was innocent.’

You looked at me for a reaction. This has never been a game, I thought, and never innocent either. But I couldn’t bring myself to say it. It seemed like we’d entered a realm where words had lost their meaning. I just looked at you, saw you struggle, harden again at my silence.

‘You could have said something before leaving,’ you said, reproachful now. ‘We could have talked about it. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain. And now you’ve ruined it for yourself. With her. Can you imagine that we were worried about you? That we thought you might have run into the forest and be in need of help?’ You looked genuinely pained, and for a moment I felt guilty. ‘Luckily her parents told us that they’d seen you. They obviously think you’re crazy. What are you going to do now? Huh?’

I looked at you, for the first time, I think, with pity. ‘We’re beyond that now,’ I said softly. ‘I’m leaving.’

The words were like a spell, suspending whatever we’d said before. Fear grazed your face, made your eyes search mine for signs.

‘Where to?’ you asked, almost in disbelief.

‘The States.’

Realisation spread like water on paper. Your mouth defeated, your eyes averted. I hated to see you like this.

‘Did they give you a passport?’ you asked quietly, without any intonation at all. I remained still.

‘Not yet.’

You nodded, looking at the floor, then towards the window. I wanted you to say more. I felt like I had no more weapons left. You walked to the window, didn’t look at me. Breathed heavily.

‘Won’t you come?’ I asked, feeling foolish as soon as I’d said it.

You laughed: a quick, short exhalation of a laugh, one that didn’t go with your eyes. They were bitter.

‘Why do you need to leave?’ you said, turning to me. ‘We were so close to getting what we wanted.’

I considered you, breathed in deeply, closed my eyes for a moment, opened them again.

‘We weren’t, Janusz. You just thought we were. Don’t you see what this is doing to us? It’s humiliating.’

You looked straight back at me. ‘More humiliating than living in a freezing attic, like a rat? Or than working hard your whole life and getting nothing for it? I thought you wanted a better life than that.’

‘I do,’ I said, feeling cold. ‘I do.’

You sat on your desk, back turned to the window, your face collapsing into your hands. And I felt tenderness, a possibility. I stood, walked over to you, put my hand on your shoulder. I could feel the tension of your muscles through the wool.

‘Come with me,’ I whispered. ‘It’s not too late. We could go without anyone knowing, across the mountains to Czechoslovakia, then on to Austria. No one will know us there.’

‘We’d have nothing,’ you insisted from beneath your hands. ‘We don’t speak the language. We’d be lost.’

‘We’d be free.’

The room was so filled with us, with the gathering clouds of our words, the fog of our thoughts. I lifted my hand off you.

‘Think of Giovanni’s Room,’ I said, the story returning to me through the fog. ‘Think of how David leaves Giovanni out of fear. We mustn’t act out of fear.’

You withdrew your hands from your flushed face, staring not at me but through me. ‘It’s too much.’ Your voice was tired. ‘I can’t do it, Ludzio. I can’t. You’re asking for too much.’

‘Is it because of Hania?’ I felt my head spin with fear.

You didn’t say anything, looked down, your face still flushed, not moving. ‘It’s not that easy,’ you finally said. Somehow, I believed you.

‘Remember how David feels after his decision,’ I said, feeling my throat tighten. ‘He regrets it.’

‘Stop comparing us to that book!’ Your voice shattered against the walls. Your face was distorted, scrunched up beyond recognition. ‘You’re the one who wants to run off. You’re the one trying to force me into this. You can’t make people love you the way you want them to.’

I felt life drain out of me, as if a plug had been pulled. I sat down on the bed.

‘I’m not cut out for it, Ludwik,’ you said,