Fleece
By mcmanaman
- 1322 reads
He had never slept on a beach before. Kasia had said she wanted to
see a proper English seaside, so he took her there for the day. They'd
only been together for two weeks but already Nic new something was
happening between the two of them. He thought she had the face of an
angel, freckles like snowflakes and the way she said his name in her
strong Polish accent melted his heart. They passed a Chinese
Restaurant, ordered take away and ate it on the sand. It was deserted
as the sun set, they dipped their prawn crackers into the rice as the
sky turned the colour of their sweet and sour sauce. Kasia fell asleep,
exhausted after an afternoon of swimming in the sea on the cold English
coast and spending the evening walking barefooted the entire length of
the beach. She rested her head on Nic's crossed legs, and when he
noticed her breathing had grown deeper and more rhythmical he took off
his fleece and spread it over her bare arms.
Nic bought the fleece at a market in Crete. It was a shade of blue he
had never seen before. He rubbed his finger down the zip, stroked the
woollen lining and reached for his wallet. The man at the stall told
him with a smile that it was the warmest item of clothing he would ever
own, that he would never be cold again. It was the only fleece he ever
owned. Occasionally when other people complained of the coldness of the
wind he would think back to the man at the market in Crete and
smile.
Kasia opened her eyes to see the sun rising over the sea. She woke Nic
up and they watched it hand in hand. He collected all the silver trays
which had uneaten bean sprouts and egg fried rice that the wind had
scattered over the sand. As he did so she called out her thanks for the
fleece and gestured to give it back. He shook his head and told her to
keep it. As he drove them both back to his flat, he told her what the
man in the market at Crete had said and apologised about the tear on
the collar and the markings down one sleeve. She laughed and said that
made it more special.
***
"Are you from England?"
Nic nodded and unlaced his football boots, putting them on the table
that ran the whole length of the changing room.
"You played well. I've seen you before, we work in the same building.
My name is Janko."
"I'm Nic."
"It must be hard for you to be in Poland when you do not speak the
language."
Nic nodded.
"Few people speak English around here. I lived for three years in
England?London. If you need anything, you should ask me."
"I will"
Nic nodded his thanks.
"I hope you will carry on playing for our team. You are a skilful
footballer, the best on the pitch today. Your vision and power is
something our supporters do not often see. I thought you were unlucky.
Your goal was not offside. We should have won the game 1-0. Other
players said so too, from both teams. We train on Wednesday evenings
over in the park. I hope I will see you there."
"Thank-you Janko, but I'm not certain about my future. I'm thinking
about moving back to England soon. There's nothing to keep me
here."
Janko walked over to the tap in the opposite corner of the changing
room and filled his bottle with water.
"What made you come here? If I may ask?"
"I fell in love with a Polish girl. We were together a year. She lived
in England, but grew homesick, the only way we could carry on being
together was for me to come over."
Nic stopped unlacing his football boots and put them on the bench.
"That was two months ago. Our relationship was clearly not as strong as
I thought. I moved out of her flat after three weeks, the only thing
that has kept me going since then has been the faint hope of us getting
back together. I spoke to her last night. She said to go back to
England."
Nic pulled his shorts off and replaced them with tracksuit trousers. He
folded the shorts up neatly and put them into his rucksack. He took his
coat off the peg, put it on over his muddy t-shirt on and zipped it
up.
"You should stay." Janko said, scraping mud from his legs. You have a
good job, enough money to survive, yes?"
Nic nodded.
"Then stay. Fight for this girl. If you go back to England surely you
will regret it. When you were on the football pitch, you didn't allow
anyone to get past you. When you lost the ball you tracked back, you
refused to let the other team have it. I like players like that, with
gritted teeth and a big heart. You have to show the same resilience
towards this girl. I've been in a similar situation myself. As soon as
you get back, the pit of your stomach will tell you it was the wrong
decision."
Janko took a sip of water from his bottle and offered it to Nic, who
poured some onto his cupped hand, splashed some over his face and took
a sip, while Janko buttoned up a clean shirt. He pulled an old fleece
over his head. Nic stopped drinking the water.
"That fleece Janko. Is it yours?" he said, his voice shaking slightly.
Janko pulled the zip up to the top.
"Kind of. It's my girlfriend's."
The air conditioning switched itself on and both looked at the vents
above them.
"She left it at my house last night. I needed a top to put on and I saw
that hanging over the chair. When I was walking down to the game I
phoned her up to tell her, I thought it would make her laugh. She acted
strangely though. Maybe you are better off without a woman!" Janko
flashed a smile at Nic.
"What's her name?"
"Kasia. We were at school together. Only started dating a few weeks ago
though."
Nic took a gulp of water and spat it out. He stood up agitatedly and
sat down again.
"So what do you say? Will I see you at the park on Wednesday?"
Nic did not hear the question. He was thinking about that night on the
beach. The way Chinese sauce trickled down Kasia's chin, the sound of
her laugh as he wiped it off with his little finger. He remembered
walking with her along the shore, and then towelling each other's feet
dry. He looked at his new friend wearing the fleece with a tear on the
collar and markings down the sleeve. Anger bubbled under his skin, but
it soon went. After a couple of seconds he regained his composure and
told himself this was what he needed, a catalyst to get out of Poland.
The pining and the sleepless nights had to be over. He thought about
England. He would book a ticket the next day, pack as soon as he got
home. He looked forward to catching up with friends, eating his mum's
home cooked soup. He looked at Janko, who walked towards the door. Nic
walked with him.
"Janko. You said earlier that if I had a question, I could ask
you."
"Yes." Nic paused and put his rucksack on his back. He cleared his
throat.
"Was I really not offside for my goal?"
The two laughed, and walked to the main road together, where Nic turned
left and Janko turned right.
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