‘You look busy,’ she said, kissing his warm cheek.

‘We’re making tarts,’ he said.

‘All right?’ Sybil asked her cautiously, and Katie nodded. They would talk later.

‘Is Marek in?’

‘No – they’ve both gone out for a while. I believe they’re looking for a room for Piotr. It’s a shame we don’t have more space here, but short of putting him in the storeroom, we can’t really manage. But the sister will be arriving soon – around Christmas, I gather.’

Katie wasn’t completely sure how she felt about Agnieska’s arrival. She was pleased for Marek, of course, but also a little jealous of his company. She told herself not to be so selfish.

‘He left you something, I believe,’ Sybil said with a twinkle. ‘Go up and see.’

Puzzled but excited, Katie went upstairs. Outside her room she found a jam jar of Sybil’s and, in it, a bunch of pink carnations. He must have gone out and bought them!

Picking them up with a cry of pleasure, she took them into her room and put them on the chest of drawers. Then she sank onto the bed and sat looking at them, full of wonder. No one had ever given her flowers before.

They had no chance to be alone until later that evening. After Michael was asleep and they had all had their meal, she let Marek into her room. They both sank onto the squeaky bed, laughing quietly. She had the little side-light on that stood by her armchair.

‘See – the flowers look lovely,’ she whispered, and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you, thank you!’

‘It is a pleasure.’

‘Where’s Piotr?’

‘Ah – he is out with lady. Her name is Polly – I think. Or Brolly . . .’

‘That’s an umbrella,’ Katie giggled. ‘Maybe Molly?’

‘Ah yes, umbrella. Yes – I think it is Polly.’

They were close, side by side and he reached over and took her hand. She stroked his long-fingered, strong hand in both of hers, then looked up into his eyes. The expression in his, and the intense way he looked at her, made her lurch inside.

‘So you tell me – about your meeting with your father. It was OK?’

‘Yes, it was all right.’

He put his arm round her and she snuggled closer to him, marvelling that this was possible, at how lovely he was.

‘All right? Is that all you English can say? All right – all right?’

‘Well,’ she protested, ‘I don’t know where to start. It was so strange.’

‘Come here . . .’ Marek lay back and urged her to lie beside him, in his arms. It was not the first time they had lain kissing and touching. Both knew they longed for more, but it was just not possible or right, in the circumstances.

She settled beside him and he rested his big, warm hand reassuringly on her head. And she began to talk.

Fifty-Three

‘It’s a shame it’s not a nicer day,’ Katie said. ‘A bit of sun would have made everything look more cheerful.’