Read Online Necessary Lies by Eva Stachniak - Free Book Online Page B

where she would have sat.
    â€œAre you all right?” William asked. “You look pale.”
    â€œIt’s nothing, love,” she said. “I’m fine.” It pleased her so much to call him
love
, to hear the concern in his voice. To exchange little smiles of understanding across the room. She thought she should hide her pain from him, keep the old life away from the new.
    There were too many people she didn’t know to make her feel comfortable. Marie was busy talking to a tall, handsome man who was sitting cross-legged on the floor. She was kneeling opposite him, making large circles in the air with her hand. The black strap of her silk blouse kept falling off her shoulder. From where she stood, Anna could hear Marie’s laughter, see her thick, black hair tossed back. She did not want to interrupt.
    Anna walked to the window to open it a bit more, to let in fresh, cold, wintry air. Outside, the world was covered in a white snowy blanket. Thick caps formed over street lamps, fire hydrants, parked cars. Enormous white flakes danced in the light. She wanted the party to end, to stop the growing noise, the laughter, the stories of events that had no resonance for her yet, memories of the lost referendum, absurdities of the French language policy, upcoming constitutional wrangles.
    â€œLévesque was stabbed in the back,” she heard a fierce whisper. “Once again!” Someone hummed a few notes of a song. “Oh, come on!” she heard. “Stop it!” By candlelight the faces of the guests looked long and lean. No, not frightening, but strangely distant.
    Piotr she dismissed when he appeared to her then. It was not an easy decision, but she had the right to make it. Even if she did go back, she told herself, how long would it be before she started to blame him for every day that went wrong. How long before she would make his life miserable. It all made perfect sense. She could betray either him or herself; there were no other choices to make.
    On the morning of December 13, Anna woke up in what she still, in her mind, called William’s bed. In his light pine bed, on a thick, springy mattress, between his smooth white sheets. He was quite conservative that way, she had discovered, linen, towels, tablecloths had to be white, snow white, without a blemish.
    She thought she should get up and start cleaning up after the party. They had both been too tired to do it in the evening. A pile of dirty dishes had been left soaking in the sink. Even in the bedroom, with the window opened a crack, there was the faint smell of cigarette smoke and wine.
    William was still asleep beside her, snoring. She smiled. She wanted to shake him gently, to make him turn on his side, but knew she would only wake him up. It moved her to discover these little things about him, to learn of his habits. Piotr wouldn’t have woken up even if she switched on the radio or talked to him. She didn’t feel like getting up, not yet. The alarm clock was set for nine o’clock. There were still a few minutes left.
    This is the CBC news. Our top story. Last night Polish troops took over control of the country. General Jaruzelski went on national television and announced the imposition of martial law. There are unconfirmed reports that the Solidarity leader, Lech Wal?
sa, was arrested last night, together with the entire leadership of the First Independent Trade Unions.
    â€œShit!” William said and sat up, wide awake at once.
    â€œWhat?” it was Anna who kept asking, as if the words she had heard made no sense to her. “What’s happened?”
    â€œMartial law,” William said. “Oh, God. Bastards!”
    The first images on the ABC morning news showed the Polish TV screen. General Jaruzelski, his eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses, was sitting at his desk, behind him a huge Polish flag. “Citizens of the Polish People’s Republic!” he was saying in a strained