The Accidental Love Letter

by Olivia Beirne

  I look at Sylvia, her green eyes fixed on me.

  Sylvia never speaks to me.

  ‘Oh,’ I say, ‘I usually spend it with friends, but I’m not sure this year.’

  ‘What about your family?’ Jakub asks, his stern expression cracking slightly.

  I look away, as I suddenly feel a wave of anxiety sweep up my body.

  I force a fake smile on to my face.

  ‘No,’ I say, ‘not with family.’

  My hand twitches towards my phone and my eyes flick up to Nina. As she looks back at me, I feel as if a silent message has moved between us. I dip my spoon back into my meal and try to fight the heat creeping up my back.

  ‘This is really nice, Jakub,’ I say, lifting my spoon.

  Jakub nods in appreciation.

  ‘Can you cook, Bea?’ Sylvia asks.

  ‘I didn’t cook this,’ Jakub adds quickly, before I can respond to Sylvia’s question.

  I don’t really have anyone to cook for any more.

  I swallow another mouthful. ‘Yeah,’ I say, ‘some things. I can make a good roast.’

  ‘You’ll have to make one for us one day!’ Gus says, grinning at me as he places his spoon into his empty bowl.

  I look back at him, feeling my chest swell.

  ‘Yeah,’ I say, ‘I’d like that.’

  *

  ‘Goodnight, then.’

  I watch as Gus, the last one awake, leaves the living room. I hold up a hand and smile at him as I stack away the bingo kit and slot it under the table. It’s almost ten o’clock now, I’m usually gone by nine at the latest, but I didn’t want to leave. I still don’t.

  We all ate dinner together and then sat and played a game of bingo. Even Jakub finally abandoned his prized stack of paperwork to join in, and Sylvia cracked a smile when she won, just like she said she would.

  I look up as Jakub reappears from the kitchen. He walks towards the table and starts spraying it down.

  ‘Right,’ I say, clapping my hands together as I stand back up, ‘I think that’s me done, then. I’ll try and come over tomorrow, but if not I’ll definitely come next week.’

  Jakub raises his eyebrows in acknowledgement as he wipes the table down. ‘Okay,’ he says.

  I pick up my coat from the chair and slot my arms into the sleeves.

  ‘What time do you finish?’ I ask, wrapping the coat around my body.

  ‘Whenever.’

  I frown.

  Well, I guess he is the manager.

  ‘Does it take you a long time to get home?’ I ask.

  Jakub wipes the last corner of the table and tucks the cloth into his back pocket.

  ‘I live here,’ he says.

  I look back at him.

  ‘Oh.’

  He lives here? With the residents?

  I always assumed he lived with family, or friends.

  A cold wave of guilt seeps through me as reality dawns.

  ‘So,’ I say slowly, ‘when the home closes, where will you go?’

  The words hang in the air and I feel myself wince silently as I hear them. Jakub doesn’t answer and my body burns with embarrassment.

  Why did I ask him that? What’s wrong with me? What a horrible thing to ask. I stare at him as he continues to wipe the table down, and I feel a sudden urge to give him a hug.

  ‘Sorry,’ I mumble, my face hot, ‘I’d better go. I’ll see you later.’

  I pick up my bag and duck my head as I walk out of the living room. As I walk past Jakub, he turns.

  ‘Wait,’ he says.

  I stop to look at him, guilt rippling through me.

  ‘Do you want a drink?’

  *

  I watch in alarm as Jakub tips the clear liquid into a glass and doesn’t stop until it’s half full. He catches my expression and stops pouring.

  ‘Too strong?’ he asks, lifting the bottle away from the glass.

  Christ, is he trying to kill me?

  I nod weakly, looking at the icy vodka in my glass.

  ‘It will put hairs on your chest,’ Jakub says, pouring his own glass.

  I try not to frown.

  I don’t want hairs on my chest.

  I pick up the glass and hold it on my lap.

  ‘This is how we drink in Poland,’ Jakub says, holding his glass up to me in a ‘cheers’ motion. I lift my glass and clink it against his. I tip the glass towards my mouth, and try not to gag as the sharp taste fills my mouth.

  I haven’t drunk vodka since university.

  I cough slightly. Jakub laughs, tipping the drink down his throat as if it’s water. I feel a tingle as I laugh back at him. It’s the first time I’ve seen him smile.

  ‘So,’ I say, rubbing my mouth with the back of my hand, ‘how long did you live in Poland for?’

  Jakub puts his glass on the table, rests his elbows and leans forward. ‘Twenty-five years,’ he says, meeting my eyes. ‘I moved to England three years ago.’

  ‘Why?’

  Jakub looks up at me. A shadow moves across his face for a moment, and then he looks away.

  There is a silence and I feel my cheeks redden.

  Should I not have asked him that?

  He shrugs as we drop back into silence, turning the glass between my hands.

  ‘Why are you here?’

  I look up as Jakub’s question breaks my thoughts, and I feel a sharp wince of pain in my chest at his question.

  Why am I here?

  ‘I wanted to see Nina,’ I say quietly.

  ‘You like coming here,’ Jakub says matter-of-factly.

  I feel a jab of irritation.

  ‘Yeah, so?’ I say sharply. ‘Why is that a bad thing?’

  Jakub shrugs, taking another sip of his drink.

  ‘It’s not,’ he says. ‘I like being here too.’

  I shuffle in my seat, my coat squirming underneath me.

  Why did I stay? I should have just gone home like I said I would. Why did I think I’d enjoy spending time with him?

  My eyes wander around the room and I spot a framed photo in the corner. A woman is smiling up at me, her arm hooked around a young child with piercing blue eyes and a big, gappy smile.

  ‘It was better before,’ Jakub says. ‘The house was full.’

  I look back at him. ‘Full?’

  Jakub nods. ‘We had twenty-two residents, all in their own rooms. We had more staff, we had activities. It was a real home and then, one by one, everyone left.’

  He tips the last of his drink into his mouth and I feel a pang in my chest.

  ‘Where did they go?’ I ask.

  Jakub shrugs. ‘Some went to family, some got sent to new homes. The staff were let go. I said I could manage the last few weeks alone. They send the meals here and everything we need.’

  ‘Oh,’ I say, ‘right.’

  I look around the dark living room, trying to imagine what life was like here before. All of the colourful, fat chairs filled with residents, chatting and laughing. Perhaps they had visitors all the time, and several nurses bustling in and out.

  ‘I know you want to change it,’ Jakub says quietly, ‘but you can’t. It’s done.’

  His words get under my skin and I feel my eyes sting. I quickly blink the tears away and flinch as I notice Jakub looking at me. I shoot him a half-smile and to my alarm, he reaches forward and touches my hand. I feel my body burn.

  ‘They’ll be okay,’ he says. ‘They’ll be sent to nice places. They won’t be homeless,’ he adds, giving my hand a squeeze.

  I take my hand away and wipe my eyes, my big grin springing back on to my face. My eyes flick away from Jakub and land back on the framed photo.

  ‘Do you miss your family?’ I ask. ‘Being in England?’

  Jakub follows my gaze and looks at the photo.

  ‘Yes,’ he says quietly, ‘but it’s different there now. My family aren’t all together in Poland. And these guys,’ he gestures around the empty room, ‘they’re my family now too.’

 
He moves his eyes back to mine and I feel my heart contract.

  ‘Yeah,’ I say, this time holding his gaze, ‘I know the feeling.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  I knock on Joy’s front door, my hand curled around my letter as if it could blow away in the wind. I pause as the loud knocks are drowned by the sound of the heavy rain and I watch Joy’s fat Christmas wreath shake in the wind as I try to peer through the window.

  Joy never takes long to answer the door. She usually answers before I’ve even finished knocking.

  I raise my hand to knock again, when Joy pulls the door open. As soon as she sees me, her face breaks into a warm smile and I smile back at her.

  Maybe she was on the loo.

  ‘Oh,’ she says, ‘hello, Bea. Do you want to come in?’ She looks behind me. ‘This weather is horrible, isn’t it?’

  I tug my hood further over my head, and step inside. ‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘I can’t stay long, I’ve got to get to work.’

  My eyes flick up to her clock, on the hall stand: 7.38.

  I need to leave in two minutes.

  Joy’s eyes flit down to my hand. ‘Another love letter?’ she asks.

  My heart lurches.

  It’s more than a love letter this time, it’s about the home.

  ‘Joy,’ I ask, the thought dropping into my brain, ‘have you ever been to Sunfields before?’

  Joy frowns at me. ‘The care home?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘Did you know that they’re closing it down? So all of these people won’t have anywhere to live?’

  Joy looks at me, perplexed.

  ‘No, dear,’ she says, ‘I didn’t know that.’

  ‘Well,’ I say, handing the letter to Joy, ‘it’s terrible. Anyway,’ I add as I step back out of her house, ‘thank you so much for this. I’m going to buy some stamps today so I can stop bothering you.’

  ‘No!’

  Joy’s voice breaks from her in a shrill, pinched tone.

  ‘It’s fine,’ Joy adds, her voice returning to her usual, calm manner. ‘I’m happy to do it, dear. You have enough going on. It’s really no bother.’

  I pause.

  Is she okay?

  ‘Okay,’ I say, pulling my hood tightly around my head. ‘Well, I’d better get to work. Have a nice day.’

  I turn on my heel and duck into the darkness. I spot Joy waving after me, one slippered foot stepping into a puddle.

  ‘You too, dear.’

  *

  I thwack my shoulder against the door, wincing as it creaks open, and I feel the bag stuffed under my arm shake.

  ‘You okay?’

  I look up at Jakub who hurries forward, grabbing the tumbling bag from under my arm. I look up at him, all puffed up under my thick coat and knitted woollen hat, my cheeks flaring at the sudden heat. As our eyes meet, I feel a bolt of electricity shoot through me.

  ‘Thanks,’ I pant, kicking the door shut behind me as the icy wind whirls into the home.

  Jakub props the door open for me. ‘What’s all this?’

  ‘It’s a surprise,’ I say, shooting Jakub a grin as a limp piece of gold tinsel swishes out of my bag like a horse’s tail.

  I make my way into the living room, a wide grin plastered across my face as I stagger towards the large table. Gus looks up from his newspaper.

  ‘What’s all this, Bea?’ he asks. ‘Are you moving in?’

  I hear a small laugh from Sylvia as she turns another page of Wuthering Heights, and I turn to Gus.

  ‘Not yet,’ I laugh.

  Nina is seated in the chair next to Gus, a fan of playing cards spread across her small hands. She looks up at me and smiles.

  ‘Are you two playing cards?’ I ask, shaking my coat off as the burning heat of the room sinks into my skin.

  ‘Gus is trying to teach me bridge,’ Nina says, pulling a face at me.

  ‘She’s getting quite good!’ Gus says, his eyes flitting over to Sylvia, who has finally put her book down.

  ‘What’s in all of your bags?’ Sylvia asks, her small silver-framed glasses pushed to the bridge of her nose.

  ‘Ah!’ I spring back round to the table and shake some tinsel out of my large shopping bags. ‘I thought it was about time we decorated this place.’

  As I hold pieces of tinsel in my hands, Gus’s smile softens.

  ‘I don’t think we’re doing Christmas this year, love,’ he says. ‘I don’t think we can.’

  ‘Of course we can,’ I say at once, almost shocking myself at my brisk tone, ‘I’ve got everything here, see?’

  I stick my hand into the largest plastic bag and wrestle out a large box with a photo of a Christmas tree on the front.

  Sylvia puts her book down and rests her hands on her lap as Jakub walks into the living room. His eyes sweep the table, which is covered in glistening tinsel and packets of bright baubles.

  ‘I can’t return it,’ I add, ‘I didn’t keep the receipt.’

  As I look round at Gus, Nina and Sylvia, I feel a flash of worry spark inside me.

  Nina looks back at me, and Gus’s smile stays fixed on his face.

  Oh God. I’ve just made things worse. Why didn’t I listen to them? What was I thinking?

  ‘It’s okay,’ I say quickly, stuffing the tinsel into a ball, ‘we don’t have to, I’ll just—’

  ‘Right!’ Sylvia claps her hands together and I jump. ‘I’ll start on the tree. And Gus,’ she says pointedly, as she pulls herself out of her chair, ‘Nina will beat you at bridge later.’

  Sylvia walks towards me, her arms outstretched, and I feel a wave of relief. I look at Jakub who is standing at the door. He winks at me.

  ‘Great,’ I say, my heart lifting. ‘Who knows how to put a tree up?’

  *

  I steady the round stool and look down at it dubiously.

  Can this carry my weight? I’d be mortified if I broke it.

  Carefully, I place one foot on the stool and hoist myself up, my entire body tensing.

  Please don’t break, please don’t break, please don’t break.

  ‘Okay,’ I say slowly, trying to steady myself, ‘pass me the tinsel then, Gus.’

  Gus rifles through the carrier bag. ‘Any particular colour?’

  ‘Not the gold,’ Nina calls, as she loops strings of tinsel across the pink walls. ‘That needs to go on the reception desk.’

  Gus nods and fishes out a string of red tinsel, little cherry-coloured shards of glitter scattering across the table. I hold my arm out as Gus passes it to me.

  ‘Have we got a fairy?’ he asks, peering into the bag. ‘For the top of the tree?’

  I weave the tinsel as best as I can through the plastic branches.

  ‘No,’ I answer, feeling the stool rock dangerously as I lean forward, ‘I’ve got us a star instead.’

  Gus pulls the dainty plastic star from the bag and looks at it. He holds it in front of his crinkled eyes and smiles.

  ‘My grandsons used to love putting the fairy on the tree,’ he says. ‘They’d fight every year about whose turn it was. We could never remember.’

  I hook the last string of red tinsel around the tree and glance down at Gus.

  ‘I didn’t know you had grandchildren, Gus.’

  I reach out my hand as Sylvia passes me some silver tinsel.

  ‘Oh yes,’ Gus chuckles, ‘one son, but three grandchildren. All boys.’

  I feel a flutter in my chest as I drape the tinsel over the tree.

  I never thought Gus would be a grandfather. He’s never mentioned grandchildren before.

  ‘Oh, that’s lovely,’ I say, hopping off the stool. ‘Do they live nearby?’

  Gus drops the star back on to the table. ‘Yes,’ he says, ‘about an hour away. But they’re ever so busy. They’ve all got a lot to be getting on with.’

  I look at Gus as he twirls the star between his hands. I turn to Sylvia, who has pulled open a box of glistening reindeer.

  ‘What about you, Sylvia?’ I ask, tak
ing a reindeer from the packet and hooking it on a branch, ‘Are you a grandma?’

  Sylvia shoots me a look from behind her glasses as if I’ve asked her if she’s a Nazi.

  ‘Do I look like a grandma?’

  I bite my lip.

  Yes. Of course you look like a grandma. You’re literally about eighty.

  ‘No,’ she says crisply, ‘you have to be a mother first.’

  I prop another decoration on a branch.

  ‘I was always quite happy on my own,’ she adds lightly, placing her reindeer in the middle of the tree.

  I smile at her, trying to ignore the question bubbling around my head.

  If neither of them have any family, then where will they go when this place closes?

  ‘Where do you want this tree?’

  I look up as Jakub walks into the room and puts down a tray of steaming mugs. He flashes me a smile and I beam at him.

  ‘I’d say in the middle of the room,’ Sylvia says, ‘by the coffee table. But we’re not finished yet,’ she adds, as Jakub steps towards the tree.

  I look over at Gus, who is still turning the plastic star between his hands.

  ‘Gus,’ I say, ‘do you want to put the star on the top of the tree?’

  Gus looks up at me and laughs.

  ‘I’m too old for that,’ he says, shaking his head.

  Sylvia shoots Gus a look.

  ‘Nonsense,’ she says sternly, ‘you should do it if you want to. What’s the point in living life only thinking about what you’d like to do?’

  Gus looks up at Sylvia. Jakub steps forward and claps Gus on the shoulder gently.

  ‘Come on,’ he says, ‘we’ll help you.’

  I glance over at the rickety stool nervously.

  Oh no. Why did I suggest this? If Gus falls off that stool, he might crack a rib.

  Gus looks around the room, fixing his eyes on Sylvia, who still has her eyebrows raised at him. Eventually, his face breaks into a smile and he gets to his feet.

  ‘Go on, then,’ he says, laughing to himself, ‘why not?’

  Jakub moves the stool and holds out his arm. Gus grips Jakub’s forearm and I find myself holding my breath. Sylvia hands Gus the star, and he reaches forward and props it on the top of the tree. Nina sighs.

  ‘Oh,’ she says, ‘that looks lovely, Gus.’

  Gus carefully steps down from the stool and admires the tree. He turns to me and smiles.