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Authors: Chris Mawbey
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“Hello,” said Mickey. His voice wavered and croaked. He felt like a fourteen year old. He felt his face grow hotter. “ Er ... congratulations on your wedding.”
Mickey had expected at least a flicker of a smile form Elena. Instead, Elena’s face clouded into a picture of sadness. Mickey thought that she might actually start to cry.
Janic seemed completely oblivious to all of this. He was beaming through his mask of defeat and despair.
“Please to let me show you to your room,” he said. Mickey gently broke his grip on Elena’s hand and followed the girl’s father up a further flight of stairs. On the top floor of the house were three bedrooms and a small bathroom. Mickey was shown to the smallest bedroom at the back of the house.
“Please, this is where you sleep,” said Janic still beaming. “You are welcome to stay for many days.” He shook Mickey’s hand with the best vigour he could muster before leaving him alone.
Chapter 8
The room that Mickey had been given was a basic affair. An iron bed frame carried a straw mattress and matching straw pillow. This was topped off by a coarse hessian blanket. A small, rusty night stand carried a cracked porcelain basin and a dented pewter mug. The jug was empty and there was no soap or a towel. Mickey suspected that he would see none of these while he stayed with Janic Kovaks and his family.
“The girl doesn’t seem to be very happy about getting married,” said Pester, who had followed Mickey and Janic up to the bedroom.
“We haven’t seen the groom yet,” laughed Mickey. He sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off his trainers. “How long do you think we’ll be here?”
“No idea,” said Pester. “You can afford a wee bit of time. But no more than a couple of days. You do have a deadline to meet – pardon the pun.”
Raised voices from below interrupted the conversation.
“Sounds like an argument,” said Mickey. “It’s probably about me staying. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of food in the house.”
“You could be right,” said Pester. “They don’t look as if they can look after themselves, never mind having a guest to stay. It’s not as if they can stock up with food after you’ve gone. Everyone will be using the food that came over with them. There’s no new food here.”
Pester left the room curious about the cause of the commotion. While he was waiting, Mickey went to the small window. It looked out over the rear of another row of homes similar to the one that he was in. On the far right hand side of Mickey’s view the streets opened out on to a larger square. This square looked like it might be the centre of the village or at least the focal point of this part of it. In the centre of the square stood a bandstand. On the very edge of his vision Mickey could make out rows of chairs in front of the bandstand. It was odd that most of the seats were occupied even though there was no band playing.
Pester returned to the room with a look of amusement on his face.
“They’re not arguing about you,” he said. “We were right about one thing though. Elena doesn’t want to get married; and her mother is taking her side.”
“So is old Janic trying to get rid of her to save food, do you think?” said Mickey. “If she was mine I’d never want to let her go.”
“Ah, but you’re talking like a lover not a father,” Pester replied with a smile.
Mickey flushed again which brought a laugh from his guide.
“I don’t think it’s as simple as preserving the food stock,” said Pester. “It sounds like a matter of honour. Our friend Janic seems to be a stickler for tradition. He wants to cling to the old ways. It’s sad really. He’s refusing to accept things as they are and thinks that this sham of a marriage will somehow change things.”
“Why do you say it’s a sham?” Mickey asked.
“Because nothing can come of
“Hello,” said Mickey. His voice wavered and croaked. He felt like a fourteen year old. He felt his face grow hotter. “ Er ... congratulations on your wedding.”
Mickey had expected at least a flicker of a smile form Elena. Instead, Elena’s face clouded into a picture of sadness. Mickey thought that she might actually start to cry.
Janic seemed completely oblivious to all of this. He was beaming through his mask of defeat and despair.
“Please to let me show you to your room,” he said. Mickey gently broke his grip on Elena’s hand and followed the girl’s father up a further flight of stairs. On the top floor of the house were three bedrooms and a small bathroom. Mickey was shown to the smallest bedroom at the back of the house.
“Please, this is where you sleep,” said Janic still beaming. “You are welcome to stay for many days.” He shook Mickey’s hand with the best vigour he could muster before leaving him alone.
Chapter 8
The room that Mickey had been given was a basic affair. An iron bed frame carried a straw mattress and matching straw pillow. This was topped off by a coarse hessian blanket. A small, rusty night stand carried a cracked porcelain basin and a dented pewter mug. The jug was empty and there was no soap or a towel. Mickey suspected that he would see none of these while he stayed with Janic Kovaks and his family.
“The girl doesn’t seem to be very happy about getting married,” said Pester, who had followed Mickey and Janic up to the bedroom.
“We haven’t seen the groom yet,” laughed Mickey. He sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off his trainers. “How long do you think we’ll be here?”
“No idea,” said Pester. “You can afford a wee bit of time. But no more than a couple of days. You do have a deadline to meet – pardon the pun.”
Raised voices from below interrupted the conversation.
“Sounds like an argument,” said Mickey. “It’s probably about me staying. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of food in the house.”
“You could be right,” said Pester. “They don’t look as if they can look after themselves, never mind having a guest to stay. It’s not as if they can stock up with food after you’ve gone. Everyone will be using the food that came over with them. There’s no new food here.”
Pester left the room curious about the cause of the commotion. While he was waiting, Mickey went to the small window. It looked out over the rear of another row of homes similar to the one that he was in. On the far right hand side of Mickey’s view the streets opened out on to a larger square. This square looked like it might be the centre of the village or at least the focal point of this part of it. In the centre of the square stood a bandstand. On the very edge of his vision Mickey could make out rows of chairs in front of the bandstand. It was odd that most of the seats were occupied even though there was no band playing.
Pester returned to the room with a look of amusement on his face.
“They’re not arguing about you,” he said. “We were right about one thing though. Elena doesn’t want to get married; and her mother is taking her side.”
“So is old Janic trying to get rid of her to save food, do you think?” said Mickey. “If she was mine I’d never want to let her go.”
“Ah, but you’re talking like a lover not a father,” Pester replied with a smile.
Mickey flushed again which brought a laugh from his guide.
“I don’t think it’s as simple as preserving the food stock,” said Pester. “It sounds like a matter of honour. Our friend Janic seems to be a stickler for tradition. He wants to cling to the old ways. It’s sad really. He’s refusing to accept things as they are and thinks that this sham of a marriage will somehow change things.”
“Why do you say it’s a sham?” Mickey asked.
“Because nothing can come of
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