The next two weeks passed by with unusual normality. I was getting used to Polish culture and behaviour, work was functioning seamlessly and me and Elly were like an old married couple. I had a plan in mind, I wouldn’t broach the subject of moving back to England full time until Elly had gotten comfortable with my family.
I knew she was scared about going back and she told me that Polish women in England were either baby sitters or waitresses. She missed out the third category and that is what probably scared her the most. I wasn’t even sure that I had a job there anymore and while the Polish office was running smoother it wasn’t a World beater.
I had a little fun with the people at the office and as I was leaving on the Wednesday to return the following Tuesday I told them that I had a critical meeting regarding the Polish office on the Monday. It wasn’t true. I was going to pop in on the Friday morning just to make sure people hadn’t forgotten me but I thought it was a smart move.
When I got back to Poland Monika told me that the staff had been so nervous that many had gotten sick with worry over the weekend and on the Monday they couldn’t function. What a bunch of pussies. I was glad that I hadn’t told them that they were constantly missing targets and would likely be shit-canned soon.
Sorry not shit-canned, right sized, steered leaving or given an opportunity at external growth. I don’t think many people work well with their back to the wall, just the best do but I couldn’t believe a little stress made them so sick, so quick. I didn’t care though, well not until I got back and had no staff to work.
Elly was a little more comfortable with our second flight and things certainly went a lot smoother both at check-in and on the plane. We flew into Doncaster-Sheffield airport which was called Robin Hood and I had always thought that he lived in a forest near Nottingham, or maybe just the villain was called Nottingham. It was a nice little airport though, clean, spacious and efficient. We breezed through passport control and baggage collection into the expectant outstretched arms of my Mother.
She took one look at Elly and hugged us both. Like always she was prepared and had drinks and snacks for us. We chatted about the flight, the weather in Warsaw and in England as we made our way through the car park. I had the urge building up inside me, am sure my Mother was bursting at the seams wanting to ask but neither of us mentioned a baby, mine and Elly’s baby.
The drive back took us past a Tesco superstore and when we got inside I remembered so many things that I wanted to eat and stocked up on so many treats that Poland didn’t have, custard being my favourite but simpler things like vinegar, treacle, Kellogg’s cereal. All the small things that you take for granted but love even more when you are denied them.
“What do you want for tea?” My Mum asked.
“Fish and chips.” I said.
“Not lasagne?” She sounded disappointed.
“I always want lasagne.” Which was true.
“Good. I made you a chicken lasagne, you can have fish and chips tomorrow night. The boys will like that, they are coming tomorrow.” By the boys, she meant my older brother Keith and his two sons Ross and Peter.
“Are you trying to scare Elly?” I said jokingly.
“No.” She snapped defensively. “They are so excited to see you again and meet Elly. Everyone is excited for Saturday, to meet Elly.”
She smiled at Elly in the rear view mirror. Elly had been inspecting the rolling hills of Yorkshire that were filled with sheep. You didn’t see as many sheep in Poland as you did in Yorkshire. We got back into Bradford and it was more exhilarating than I had imagined seeing the streets where I’d grown up. I never felt so joyful on a visit back from Leeds but this time I had Elly, maybe she was the difference.
We pulled into my parent’s driveway and an old neighbour came over to say hello. It was different now. I remembered pestering her about getting my ball back when me and my brothers would play football in the street. I bet it was horrible for the elderly people having obnoxious kids yelling and playing in the street all the time, for us it was just fun. I wondered if when I got a house I’d shout at the kids for making a racket and tell them to go and play on their own streets. I even thought about what people would yell at Andrew, not that many kids played out that much anymore because of the increased fear about pedos.
Anyone who reads knows that it wasn’t a phenomenon of the 1990’s and that even if you let your kids play out it’s more likely to be your weird cousin or uncle than a stranger who’d abuse your kids. Still they call it irrational fear precisely because it’s irrational.
We went in the side door, through the kitchen into the dining room then down the hall and past three of the rooms which at one time or another had been mine and finally into Scott’s room. It had a king sized bed and he was generously giving it up to me and Elly. In the other downstairs bedroom were bunk beds for my nephews. Scott’s room had some history for me though, first it was my parent’s bedroom when they had moved there about fifteen years ago or however long it had been. Then Keith claimed it as his when they moved into the loft, I had it for a short while and finally Scott inherited it and I was pretty sure Ross and Peter would be fighting over who got it once he finally left the home nest.
I walked around and inspected the new wallpaper in the front room, I guess other people would call it the living room or the TV room would be more accurate. I checked out the bunk beds with their Ben 10 covers and inquired to who Ben 10 was. It made me nostalgic for my old Garfield duvet which proclaimed that he didn’t like Mondays. I was never a massive Garfield fan but I did like the idea of a cat who ate lasagne. The only cat based cartoon for me was Thundercats.
Since no one else was home I took Elly out for a tour of the neighbourhood. We stopped at Bolton Road, a long steep road which led down into the city centre and I pointed out my old high school in the distance. It had grown since I had left adding numerous more buildings and losing a playing field. It looked like an industrial complex more than a school but what did schools look like these days anyway?
Next we walked up to a small row of shops. On one side was a pizza place, a mini-market and then where there used to be a video shop was now a tanning salon. The other side of the road had a church, a baby shop and a pub. It was actually the first local pub that I worked it. It had a small and loyal crowd but was all boarded up now. I thought about looking in at the baby stuff with Elly but we wouldn’t be buying anything so I didn’t see the point. We walked up and past the old newsagents where I had my first paper round and where I used to steal porn mags and sell them at school. Well actually me and a friend used to take them apart and sell each page separately.
We continued walking, passing more and more pubs which amused Elly. It was like churches in Poland though, every few steps and you happened upon another one. I took her past my dentist, which reminded me that I should try to make an appointment so I didn’t lose my place there. Then I took her towards the pub where I really learnt a lot, not from bar tending but from the regulars. I learnt a lot about life, about relationships and how not to do things.
There were some families where the brother had married the cousins ex-wife then the kids were hooking up and from their council estate they were living out a modern Greek tragedy. Other families had the comedy of wives chasing alcoholic husbands and all his friends covering for him. They were characters, they were living highs and lows, most of all they were trying to survive.
I hoped me and Elly would have something more solid. A relationship that didn’t require a comedy escape routine every weekend. I knew that a couple shouldn’t be together all the time and even the strongest need a little time alone with friends but I hoped that we would never reach a stage where one of us was looking for answers in a seedy bar at the bottom of a glass.
I had wanted to take her in and show her off but as we got closer I just pointed it out to her and we walked past. She was feeling tired by now so we caught a bus back. The price seemed to go up every time I caught a bus and it was over a quid each. I thought to myself that the taxi business must be booming in England. I had caught taxis in Poland after nights out, but I could imagine in England that it was a smarter move if there were a few of you to pay for the taxi anytime.
We got home to find my Dad’s work van in the driveway and Scott’s new MG
was parked up as well. He had bought it while I’d been away but he had put the snaps up on facebook. It was his first car and beat the shit out of my first car, a banged up VW Polo. I loved that Polo though, even if I did nearly wreck it learning to drive. I couldn’t work the clutch and stunk the thing up terribly one Sunday morning with my Dad mastering the art and then the following Sunday he took me out to get some milk, in York! It was a good experience though and I was a relaxed, comfortable driver in England but I wasn’t looking forward to getting behind the wheel in the madhouse that was Poland.
When we entered the kitchen Scott was perched against the window running through his day as my Mum cooked and my Dad sat in the next room reading his copy of The Sun. He always bought me a copy of the Times when I was at home but he never read it, not even the sports pages. I had gotten used to reading my news online by now but I liked the feel of reading an actual paper again. I remembered hearing a statistic about the Times, that if you read one edition cover to cover you would have read more news than an individual 200
years ago would have heard their entire life. I don’t know if that was true but it was interesting to think about.
I formally introduced Elly but she excused herself and went to lie down. After checking if she wanted anything to drink and if she was alright in general I return to talk football with my Dad and Scott. That was our fall back. We discussed football or UFC and nothing had changed. We were family and we didn’t need to say I missed you, I love you, just what a goal? Did you see that fight? Keith got a lot more animated about football and could argue with you passionately about the minutest detail of any game but mainly we regurgitated the same things that we read or saw discussed on the TV.
After a while my Mum announced that the food was ready, that meant that you had about fifteen minutes. It was a long standing joke and one tradition that made me smile. I woke Elly up and she joined us for my childhood favourite.
Chicken and lasagne, you couldn’t go wrong. I threw Elly a look to ask if I could reveal our big news and she just looked dazed but I pressed ahead anyway. I pulled out the spaceman picture of Andrew, well actually a photocopy. I had scanned the original as soon as I’d got home and put it away for safe keeping. I had a ton of copies in my bag, I knew my Mum would want one and my Nan too but I brought more just in case I wore my copy out.
“Can you pass the salad?” I asked.
As my Mum passed it across to me I exchanged the copy into her outsretched hand.
“What’s this?” She said part indignantly and part confused.
It didn’t last long though and a big beam spread across her face and she turned it to my Father.
“What’s that then?” Scott asked. “Have you got her pregnant?” I think he was joking.
I just kind of nodded and he shook his head at me and with a mouth full of food told me, “Haven’t you learnt anything from Keith? Kids and weddings are no good.”
Thanks douche bag.
You can think it and hell you might be right, but not in front of Elly.
I did know of his legendary subtlety though, as on several nights out I had witnessed his pulling technique. My favourite of his was approaching a rather hefty girl, “Hey sweet cheeks, you are very lucky that tonight I had a bet with my mate about who could pull that fattest bird. Saddle up and enjoy the ride.”
It actually worked as well though. He was charming and good looking, he was even developing a work ethic but he was still the baby of the family and I think he would need a women who would mother him if he was ever to be enticed out of his actual Mothers house.
My Dad had a tear in his eye. He had stopped eating and was just looking at Andrew. He put his fork down and squeezed mu Mothers hand. I knew he had been mellowed by becoming a Grandfather but this was a different side to him than I was used to.
The New World Order had arrived.