Chapter 6 – An Unexpected Trip...And A Chance To Open Up
I awoke in the morning to a dull throbbing pain in my arm. I looked down to see that my right arm was very swollen where the brick had hit it the previous night. I picked out a long cardigan to hide my swollen wrist, got changed and headed down to the dining room where I met the unexpected sight of Eric cooking breakfast. He looked up as I entered the room and smiled at me.
“I thought I’d cook us both breakfast to make up for last night’s disaster.”
“Don’t you need Jonathon to do that for you?” I said, rolling my eyes.
“Now now, don’t be like that. I’m trying to make up for last night,” he said, offended.
“For what? The meal not going as you planned it’? Or for snapping at me and being downright rude?”
“Someone obviously woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” I just glared at him and stood up. The pain in my arm was intensifying with each second and the smell of the bacon was making my stomach heave. As I reached the door, I turned back to see Eric standing there with an incredibly confused and almost hurt look on his face.
“I was only joking,” he offered as I started to stomp up the stairs. I just ignored him. About half way down the stairs though I collapsed and went crashing down towards the bottom again. The last thing I saw before I blacked out was Eric looking worriedly down at me.
I awoke in a whitewashed room, that I assumed could only be somewhere inside a hospital. My first thoughts were that I must be dead as I couldn’t move anything. When I finally mustered the strength to open my eyes and saw Eric sitting by my bedside, the realisation that I was dead was confirmed. Eric didn’t care about me – he just thought I was some idiot that had been stupid enough to let some hotel mess me about. And he thought I was grumpy and bad tempered.
I felt a stabbing pain in my arm and that was when I realised I mustn't be dead. Eric was still asleep and I decided not to wake him. He looked a mess. Probably rather hypocritical coming from me but still true nevertheless. I looked down at my arm which was now hidden inside a cast. I tried to sit up but stopped quickly as a sharp pain flared across my chest. Evidently I’d broken some ribs in the fall.
“I see you’re awake then.” I jumped slightly, then flinched as the pain flared up again. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you. Why didn’t you wake me?”
“Well you look so dreadful...I thought you could do with the rest.” I smirked at him.
“Hark who’s talking? How are you?” he asked.
“I’ve been better but...I’ll live.” I smiled. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Why ever not?”
“Well I didn’t really think you thought that much of me. I’ve been so grumpy since I’ve been staying with you and it’s not like you had to take me in.”
“You haven’t been that grumpy.” I raised my eyebrows at him. “Well ok...you were a little grumpy this morning but I think you had a pretty good excuse.”
“Maybe. So do you fancy answering any of my questions?” I asked hopefully.
“I don’t know...I’m not really ready to talk about my experiences during the war. But if you want you can ask some questions and I’ll answer them if I feel comfortable.” He added on as an afterthought when he saw my face fall.
“I’ll settle for that.”
“Ok then. Where do you want to start?”
“I want to know, who is Sarah Jakubovic?” I asked. My first instinct had been to start on another question but my curiosity had gotten the better of me. Evidently, my first instinct had been correct, for the moment I mentioned her name, hurt flashed across his face. He stood up and began to walk towards the door.
“No please don’t walk away,”I begged him. “I’ll move onto the next question if you want?”
“Where did you find that name?”
“I read a poem you dedicated to her. I found it when I was tidying up some papers in the living room.”
“So you read my private stuff?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“I didn’t mean----“
“Forget it,” he said and walked slowly back to my bedside. “It doesn’t matter. Sarah Jakubovic was a girl...a girl very special to me. I first met her at a bar in Belgium – the very first place I was sent to whilst on active service.”
“What was she like?” I asked, my curiosity once more egging me on.
“She was like an angel and from the first moment I saw her, I knew I had never seen anything so beautiful...I knew I must make her mine.”
“But what did she look like? What nationality was she – her surname doesn’t sound very English? And did anything happen between you and her?”
“So many questions,” he commented. “You should become a journalist...your curiosity would serve you well in that profession.” I bit my lip, worried that my curiosity had given me away. “What did you say you did for a job anyway?”
“I didn’t but since you ask I have an office job, very boring. Now any chance of you answering my questions?”
“Alright, alright – keep your hair on,” he smirked. “Sarah Jakubovic was Polish but brought up in France. She moved to Belgium when she was 18, for want of a better life. She had red hair, dyed I think, and one blue eye, one green eye. She was a medium height and not overly thin but to me...to me she was perfect, absolutely perfect.” All the while he was saying this I was taking mental notes in my head, my journalistic personality setting in. He looked like he was finished but there was still one question he had left unanswered.
“Did anything happen between yourself and her?” He avoided my intent gaze.
“You don’t miss anything, do you?” he said sighing. “We dated for about a year before getting engaged.”
“So what happened? Why aren’t you a happily married man?”
“Stuff got in the way.”
“What stuff?”
“Does it really matter?” he stared at me silently begging me not to make him go on.
“Well I guess not...but I’d like to know.”
“There was a fire. We got separated on the way out of the building and I never saw her again.” There was a hint of sadness in his eyes now, and as he got up and left the room I did not try and stop him, but instead made a start on my story.
