I returned to Poland to find my translator, Kins, AWOL.
Once me and Elly had settled back in I got to work and needed his help with a few things. I desperately needed to sort out my work life because my private life was beginning to give me a headache. Elly enjoyed England but made it clear on the plane that she was more than happy to be getting back to Poland. I must admit that after a few days of madness it was a pleasure to retreat to our flat and the quiet of work.
For the quiet of work to remain quiet I needed my translator to hold my hand through a few documents. There were so many different forms and things to sign but I wasn’t going to be putting my autograph to anything I didn’t understand. Too many historical figures had been sunk by blindly signing things handed to them.
I had tried to call his mobile but it was switched off, maybe it had been stolen or lost. I had sent him an e-mail and since he was usually working on his laptop that was as quick as a text message but nothing, again. I thought that the walk would do me good, a chance to burn off a little of the celebration weight I had put on in England. As I made the short journey to the translation office I felt the sweat build up on my back and chest, I was really getting out of shape and enjoying too much cake and sugary tea.
I bounded up the stairs ignoring the print shop workers, through the padded door and into the startled gaze of Slash. She seemed shocked to see me then forced out a smile.
“Is he in?” I asked.
Nothing.
A little nervous shuffling and then the girls all emerged at once. It wasn’t a bad thing to be engulfed by these wonders but they weren’t their perky selves and it started to make me uncomfortable. I asked again if Kins was in but he was absent and so was Monika. I pressed a third time and Slash told me that he didn’t work there anymore.
I was fucked.
They didn’t know where he was but they were sure he wasn’t with Monika, who also no longer worked there. That was about as much as I got out of them and being stonewalled in your own language is bad enough but they soon forgot English and only answered me in Polish. I decided to leave and headed to the Metro station. I knew where he lived, roughly. I had been there a couple of times but usually after drinking a bit. While I was sure I could locate the building I didn’t know if I’d remember the flat number.
I pushed on regardless and powered through the host of leaflet-ers which seemed to be growing exponentially on the streets of Warsaw. They mainly huddled at the entrance/exits of Metro stations but you could find the odd ones scattered about the streets. They were a depressed and persistent bunch, thrusting their advertisements into your chest then muttering when you didn’t take them. Most were advertising English schools, if it happened in England they’d have been hocking credit cards or more probably debit advice services.
I liked riding the Metro, I had been on the Underground in London and in Seoul, and while Warsaw’s single line was less impressive it was efficient and clean.
There were usually ample amounts of eye candy to enhance the journey as well.
I disembarked at Imielin and walked out of the artificial light into the real sun busting day. Warsaw got a lot more sunshine than I had imagined. They had some terrible fog as well but even when it snowed the sun shone over Warsaw.
As I tried to find my bearings, spinning round and looking at the ten or twelve identical tower blocks I realised that I couldn’t even locate his building.
I was getting peckish so I headed to a little ‘delikatesy’ or delicatessen in English. While I sat there mulling over what to do next I spotted Kins trudging across a grass embankment with shopping bags weighing him down. I picked up my coat, dropped down my money and ran after him.
“Kins! Kins! Kinsy!” I shouted.
He turned around and his unshaven sullen face did not make for a joyous reunion. Something bad must have happened. I could see through the thin red plastic bag that he had bought crisps, chocolate and Spirytus, a 95% vodka. I considered my words and as I did he focused his bleary eyes and spoke first.
“James, how you doing?”
“Golden, you?” I could see how he was doing but we all play such games.
“Been better but could be worse, you know.”
I didn’t know though. I did want to find out.
“Do you fancy a coffee?” I offered.
“Sure. Come on back to mine.” He said.
I hoped it wasn’t going to be Polish coffee in the style of an Irish coffee. We had tried the Spirytus devil juice before and it did not end well. We actually felt quite fine until a friend turned up and pointed out that we were worse than legless.
We made our way across the embankment and to another array of carbon copy shit stack block of flats and into what I call the post box bit. All the post went into little metal boxes and you got to see how many fuckers you shared the mammoth building with. I guess it was easier for the postmen but mainly all that was stuffed into them was pizza flyers and more stuff about language schools.
We took the stairs up to the fourth floor and again I realised how horrible my level of fitness had become. He unlocked his battered door and the stench from the apartment is enough to wake the dead. He cracked a window but I suggested that we sat on the balcony. I made my way past the half empty beer cans, over the partially eaten food and the swamp of abandoned clothes. The balcony was cramped but at least it had fresh air.
He returned with the coffees and looked steady enough. He slumped down in a deck chair and took in the depressing view of other high rises and a busy road.
“What brings you down here?”
“You do. I went to the office and you weren’t there. They said you and Monika had left. What’s going on bro?”
“That snivelling little horse shit bitch.” He sneered. “She went back to her sponsor and I may have fucked with a few translations as pay back.”
“Her sponsor? She was an addict?”
I was surprised because she didn’t seem the type but really what is the type?
“Not that kind of sponsor, silly.” He replied condescendingly. “The kind of dick that pays young girls, sorry gives gifts to young girls while they have a wife and kids somewhere else.”
I hadn’t heard of such a thing. It sounded like prostitution or a mistress. I thought about foraging for more information but as I tried to couch the question in my mind Kins offered a more comprehensive definition.
“Sponsoring is a very Polish thing. Usually girls who are attending university or moving to a big city get sugar daddy types.” Not that unusual. “These guys pay for the girls flat then get to stay there when they are in town or want to.
Sometimes they buy the girls gifts as well.”
“Like sugar daddies.” I stated.
“Kind of. I don’t know really. It happens a lot.” He seemed convinced about this. “Any way Monika’s split up with his wife and she went back to him.”
“Had they kept contact all along?”
I wanted to ask if they’d kept fucking really but even I wasn’t that brash, unless I was drunk.
“I don’t know but I guess so.”
I wanted to move off the subject and onto something more positive.
“So are you gunna come and work for me now?” I asked hopefully.
“I don’t know. I am thinking about setting up my own firm. My neighbour Magda wants to setup a firm as well so maybe we’ll share an office.”
“That was quick. Well make sure am a priority client.” I smiled, he didn’t.
“You have a contract with the place we don’t name.”
“A formality to be ignored.” I pronounced.
“I can’t take any of their clients.” He said dejected.
“Well if they don’t know it won’t matter will it.”
“We’ll see.”
We sat and drank our coffee. We watched the sunshine fade and rainclouds appear. It looked like it was going to be a storm so I made my excuses and left. I got his new phone number and promised that I’d be in touch. It was a sad sight but this is what could happen when you opened your heart to another. I realised how delicately balanced relationships were and I never really cared before but on the Metro ride back to work I kept thinking about Elly and her past.
I muddled through the day and the crew appeared happier than they had ever been. They were starting to get the hang of customer services and the routine nature of the calls was comforting for them. I knew that soon they would get bored and disinterested but for now I was happy coasting along. I stayed late trying to decode the documents I had to sign with the help of Google translate but I was making slow progress and when Elly called to see where I was she told me to bring them home and we’d do it together.
It sounded like a plan so I headed out. All thoughts of her past indiscretions were forgotten and we were back to being Team Andrew. We whizzed through the documents, mainly with her glancing over it and confirming that everything was ok. We got to one that she didn’t really understand and I put it down for special attention. Unfortunately I forgot about it and it stayed in my flat for over a week until I realised and took it into the office to talk over with Paweł and Monika.
The rest of that night me and Elly theorized what Andrew would do, what his favourite colour would be and which food he would hate. Elly loved fish and I hated it, only if it was battered and came with a side of chips would I even touch the stuff. I remembered about Kins and relayed the story to Elly. She seemed quite indifferent about the whole sponsoring thing which made me nervous but she told me that she never did it. She didn’t say she wouldn’t have but just that she was modelling instead of studying.
I guess you have to pay the bills, or have someone pay them for you.
“Do you think it is so different from us?” She said.
“I do yeah. We love each other. It isn’t about money or survival. At least I hope it’s not. We will have a child, a future together.” I said passionately.
“I like your word, sugar daddy. Like a daddy full of sugar.”
She pushed in at my ever expanding waist line and giggled.