‘Where’re you living?’ she said, chattily. And without waiting for a reply, ‘My, but God, aren’t you both so very young looking?’ Though Alex was heaped on the bed looking like shit.

They must all know. I didn’t answer her.

Go back to sleep, love. Back to sleep, my love. Sorry for the intrusion. Try to sleep now, my love. And you both so young looking. My God.

Sleep now.

Chapter 15

On Saturday morning, Michal Piwaski rolled up his trolley heaped with plates of soggy toast and mugs of tea like a New York hotdog vendor. He seemed unnerved or excited that Alex had stayed the night, chatting flamboyantly about how decent and caring my husband was to sleep beside me. He asked if he had fallen asleep, or had he planned it? And if yes, then we should have asked for a roll-out bed, although, of course, there was no guarantee we’d get one given the crisis the place was in, and don’t get him started about the crisis the whole country was in, and on and on he went. He was persistent, Michal Piwaski. He went into abundant details before he obliged us and gave us both milky tea and soggy toast from his plate.

‘How’s your wife?’ Alex asked, unsure about anything given our circumstances and the scan and decisions, and with the new surroundings that were now inflicted on him, for ever. Michal had to think for a moment.

‘She’s pregnant, isn’t she?’ Alex asked, flustered.

‘Yes … yes, she is,’ I said, trying to save him.

‘Oh, my wife, yes, Karolina, well, she is doing good, now, good,’ Michal obliged.

I started to shake.

‘You OK?’ Alex said, his head still fallen over on the bed.

‘I was dreaming all night.’

‘About?’

‘I was locked in the boot of a car.’

‘Fuck.’ He sat up, and yawned.

‘Yeah, I dream this all the time …’

‘Nightmarish?’

‘Yeah, especially the teeth one.’

Alex ran his finger along his top row.

‘But usually locked somewhere, tight. I’m so used of it by now …’ I trailed off.

‘Really? Shit. You never said.’

‘You never asked.’

Alex thought a moment, seemed to take particular care with the next sentence, and he lifted his head from the bed again. ‘What model’s the car?’

WTF.

‘Fuck knows … I’m locked in the boot.’

‘Oh, yeah, sorry. Just wondering … some boots open from the inside.’

I laughed. ‘It’s a dream, Alex. It’s just, when I was a kid and we’d play hide-and-seek.’

‘Love it.’

‘Game or dream?’

‘Game, told you … don’t dream …’

‘Weird. Yeah. I’d hide out in the press in the small hallway, you know the one?’

Call out. Ready or not. Keep your spot.

‘Yeah, I know it, with the green slatted doors?’

‘Yeah, yeah, that one, I’d crouch in there.’

I was shaking hard now.

‘Love, you’re shaking, here, take this, don’t talk about it … it’s only a dream.’ And he placed his jumper over me, warm.