The Polish Experience by Nicholas Westerby - HTML preview

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Chapter 22

We got in the car still numb from the shock of being gifted a house. A house with no doors is still a house and I wasn’t thinking about what work was waiting for me, I wasn’t really thinking about it seriously as I didn’t believe it would happen.

"Where next then honey?" I asked.

Elly had taken it all in her stride and she still didn't seem to believe what had just happened either. I could hear the puppies yapping outside but I think an earthquake could have hit and Elly wouldn't have noticed.

I repeated my question.

"We will visit my daughter." She said calmly.

"You have a daughter?" This was turning into quite the surprise fest.

"Yes." She said as if it was a stupid question.

"How old is she?"

I wondered what else I didn't know about Elly.

I might have been having a kid with her but we hadn’t even known each other six months yet and she could have had a million different skeletons lurking in her closets. I doubt there would have been any room though, not with all the clothes she bought.

Truth was that I hadn’t told her all my deep and dark secrets either. If they didn’t come up I doubt I would. There was plenty of stuff from when I worked in bars and there was the summer I’d spent in the Greek tourist trap called Kos.

I could have written a book about the months I spent there and the crazy shit that went down. I certainly wouldn’t be offering her any of the gory details freely and maybe she had similarly grim memories that were better forgotten.

I already knew about her funding secret but I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that she had a kid, a daughter.

"Three..." She paused and thought about her response. "Maybe four."

Top quality parenting. I would have to be the responsible one.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I raged.

"I tell you now." She said defensively. "It isn't most important."

"It's pretty fucking important. Where's her father?"

I should have asked why she wasn't at the family gathering.

Was she another one of Elly's little secrets that her family didn’t know about?

Could I trust a woman who had lied to the rest of her family so freely?

"He will be there."

Aha, she lives with her father. That explains that then.

"Will it be a problem that I will be there?"

The thought of it made me uncomfortable.

"No. They are excited to meet you."

Well at least she told them that I existed even if she didn't tell me about them.

"I guess I should get to know them. She will be Andrew's sister after all."

Maybe Scott had been right in England. I should have learnt from Keith's mistakes.

"Not that kind of daughter, a church daughter." She replied as we pulled out of her Aunt's driveway.

"You mean your Goddaughter?"

Phew, that was a relief.

What an emotional rollercoaster. I hoped no one took my picture while I was on it because it wouldn't have been a flattering snap. After that slow crawl up to the dizzying height then stomach churning drop down I was in need of a smoother ride. The undulating surface of the Polish country roads physically mimicked the emotional turbulence that I felt.

"You are so silly." She said.

Maybe I was silly but that kind of misunderstanding could have ended very differently. One of us was going to need to get better at the other's language and fast. I knew that I couldn’t complain about her not understanding me or mixing a few things up while I didn’t speak any Polish. I knew that I needed to make more of an effort to learn and that was going to be a priority next week.

I had seen the adverts for school declaring that they could teach someone English in ten weeks and was sure that I could start to become better, maybe a low level Polish speaker in such a short amount of time as well.

I didn’t know then that Poland didn’t have very strict advertising laws and the kind of practices that would have attracted big fines in the UK were perfectly legal there.

We pulled into another farm. This one had a sprawling one floor home and several wooden barns. There was another dog roaming freely in the yard and several cats relaxing on the porch. We were greeted by another large middle aged woman. She had a warm smile and didn't wait for introductions before hugging me. Her husband a relatively thin man with a pronounced moustache followed with a firm handshake and smile. They embraced Elly and invited us inside. More tea and various cakes were offered but my jeans were already cutting in to my waist and I declined. They wouldn't be dissuaded though and produced a plate and a cup of tea. It seemed rude not to so I sampled a cream and fudge effort that was divine. Again the fat jokes flowed and by now I was oblivious to it.

I would have to learn how to be self-deprecating in Polish. Once I had found a school to learn at, I’d need to get the teacher to teach me some jokes. I had heard more about the English sense of humour in the last few weeks than in my whole life. It seems the rest of the World is confounded by what we find funny.

The Poles don’t get the word play, which is understandable, I was constantly pestered about an advert in which a cartoon dog is supposed to chase a stick but makes a joke about something falling on the floor. Yep, I didn’t get it either but it had Poland splitting its ribs.

Elly's Goddaughter was a cherub of a girl with Shirley Temple curls. It didn't take her long to warm to me and as everyone else ignored both of us she showed me her collection of stuffed animals. A dog eared elephant, a giraffe that’s neck that had been hugged into a limp submission, a balding lion whose mane had been over combed by a loving owner and a rhino that was leaking polystyrene balls whenever it moved.

It must have been an endearing site as her parents kept checking and smiling at me. Elly liked witnessing my fathering, caring side and when I finally returned to her she moved her hand onto my knee. Another slice of cake was forced on me and washed down with more vodka.

Another boy and girl appeared. They were both teenagers, the boy maybe 13

and the girl was probably 15 or 16. The older I get the harder it is to tell people's age. When I was a teenager I could have told you the difference between a 13

and a 15 year old but now am happy to guess the right decade someone was born in.

We made our excuses as it was starting to get dark and headed off to the next part of Elly's family. I was now sure this would involve more cake and vodka.

In the car I let my pants open and allowed my boys to breath. Elly laughed at me and I told her that unless she wanted me to turn into a meatball she needed to do more to protect me.

“Just say no.”

“It’s not drugs Elly, it’s your family. I want them to like me.”

Elly had a hard time locating the exact street and had to call her Uncle to ask for directions but since we didn't have a map it wasn't much use. We had left the farms behind and were in a very pleasant village. The houses looked like holiday villas on the outside with their white walls and clay slatted roofs.

One turn, then the next in the opposite direction, reversing back the way we came and peering hopefully down suburban streets. We finally spotted the one Elly was sure was her Uncle's and got out. A St.Bernard roared at me from beyond the gate.

"Ladies first." I said, ever the gentleman.

A young man came out and wrestled the dog by the collar. Another cousin that Elly introduced to me and instantly I forgot his name. It was all getting too much and I’d had too much to drink to function properly. Her cousin was wearing a Manchester United training vest and seemed a happy sort. Me and Elly climbed the stairs and at the top were greeted by her Aunt. Again she visibly enjoyed her cake and I began to wonder if they had all been as slender as Elly in their youth.

I've heard it said that to see your future wife look at her mother, well from looking at her female relatives the size 10 dresses wouldn't last much longer.

Elly's Uncle hugged her as soon as her Aunt had finished and then he shook my hand. We were invited to the dining table not for cake this time but for meat and veg in jelly. I politely refused and was offered something else but I had Elly explain that I was set to burst.

Her Uncle laughed and rubbed his belly. He produced a bottle of Old Smuggler whiskey, I liked this guy and his family already. After the horror that was vodka a good whiskey was heaven. We had drunk a few measures before Elly had finished talking to her Aunt and came to rescue me. Me and her Uncle continued to drink and laugh, his daughter emerged with her 5 year old son.

They too were content souls and since they enjoyed Poland I thought that it couldn’t be that bad. The whole family was joyful, it was a real pleasure to be in their company but sadly time was against us so after a quick catch up with her cousin we were on the move again. Not before I had a chance to bond with another little one though. I was on a roll and it wasn’t about to stop. I was throwing him about and pulling out my best physical comedy. Entertaining a 5

year old entertains those around him, there is something infectious in their laughter.

Was I going to be that easy to please in a few years?

If someone entertained Andrew would I take them into my heart as well?

The next journey didn't take long and was thankfully our last stop. On one side of a thin road were Elly's Aunt and Uncle and on the other side her Grandma's brother and his wife. While the road might have been thin it was a perfect surface, a stark contrast to the joke of the roads near the farms.

I stood in the middle of the road and turned my head to one side then the other.

These were really beautiful homes and even more eye-catching gardens. I had only ever seen such gardens in magazines or on the TV. You could have put a football pitch in the Aunt and Uncle’s but they had a deck for 'performances'

instead.

The edges of the garden where inhabited by flowers which ran the colour spectrum of the rainbow and beyond. We got a quick tour of the houses, refused more food, had a cup of tea to sober me up and keep Elly alert for our drive back and we were gone. I don't know how Elly really felt after the party in England but I loved her family and the last few families we visited were my kind of people. Everyone was so warm and loving. I felt relaxed, so comfortable and then I remembered Marvin.

How could he emerge from such a family?

How could he be so different to Elly?

Finding a mate is a tricky business and while the individual maybe perfect they unfortunately come as a package. They are inseparable. Sometimes they are further removed but I was getting the impression that now she was pregnant Elly felt closer and closer to her family.

The Mother she hadn’t been eager to see was now becoming an important ally, rightly so. The family that she had hidden from, not wanting to disappoint them, were all happier to see her back in Poland than in England. Her idea that she meant more to them as a beacon of hope than in their arms was quickly changing. The strangest turnaround of all was that the first family member she reached out to was the one who was pulling away.

She had doubted if the others would embrace me but they had and the brother that she thought would support her, support us, was nowhere.

“I wish you had a chance to meet my friends.” She said.

“We can throw a party. I’ll book a club.” I offered.

“No. We should save our money for the baby.”

For the baby, not for the house.

“We can just book some tables then.”

In Poland I had learnt that you could reserve everything, including seats in a nightclub. It annoyed the hell out of me though, when I’d pop out for a beer after work to see reservation written on empty tables. The idiot staff would refuse to let you sit down at 6 pm for one beer at a table reserved for 9 pm.

Their loss!