"He didn't know, Ania. He just didn't want you to think that you had found it for him."

"I'm sure it was some mix-up ..." she said. And eventually she received a letter from her sister-in-law in Gdansk.

Dear Ania,I don't know why I am writing this letter, but I liked you straightaway when Jozef and I came to visit.A couple of weeks ago, we went to a trade fair, where people buy fittings for restaurants. We saw Marek there. He was looking at very expensive pancake-making equipment, what they call a creperie. We spoke to him, but he didn't remember us at all so we didn't explain exactly who we were. He was with a very young girl called Julita.Whatever you do in life I wish you luck and happiness.Jozef thinks we should leave well enough alone and say nothing, but I felt you should at least have this information to help you make your choice.Love,Zofia "Where was Marek last week?" Ania asked Roman casually.

"Oh, he went to this trade fair, saw all kinds of great stuff there. I expect he ordered all kinds of stuff as well."

"Can he afford it all?" They had long stopped calling it "our" cafe. It was Mareks now and everyone knew it.

"Well, he has a fair amount of support from his father-in-law," Roman said.

"Yes, as long as he keeps his nose clean," Ania said.

"What do you mean?" Roman looked anxious.

"I don't know," Ania said truthfully.

Marek came in that evening. She heard Roman warning him that she was in an odd mood, so he was very charming when he approached her.

"Lovely Ania, how well you look. Will you dance with the men tonight, make them thirsty make them spend their money?"

"So that the creperie machine will soon pay for itself?" she asked.

"How do you know about that machine?" he asked suspiciously.

"Oh, me? I can see into people's souls. I see you have been interested in having a pancake machine."

"Oh, and do you see that you are going to lower your frilly blouse and get those men dancing?"

"No, I don't see that. Oddly ..."

He left her and went back to Roman. "You're right. She is in a funny mood," she heard him say.

Ania wandered out into the yard and picked some flowers. She arranged them in a gla.s.s and was about to bring them upstairs.

"Where are you going?" Marek barred her way.

"I've arranged some flowers for you. I was just taking them-"

"No, don't go up-the place is very untidy."

"So what makes it any different from usual, then?"

"Are you all right, Ania?"

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Good. So I'll take them upstairs later."

"Shall I stay tonight?"

"Well...perhaps not tonight."

"I see."

"Do you?" He was troubled.

"Yes. Possibly Oliwia is becoming suspicious, and you will need her father to be your friend to pay for all the things you ordered at the trade fair."

"How do you know I was at a trade fair?"

"You told me you were going to it, don't you remember?"

"No, I don't."

"Oh, but you did, and Roman told me that you were there too. Why?"

"Nothing."

"Am I right about Oliwia's father?"

"Sort of."

"Weren't you lucky to hear about this place, Marek?" she asked him.

"Yes, yes, I was."

"And who exactly did you hear it from?"

"I can't remember-it was all long ago." He was very uneasy now. It was so strange to see him like this. Always it had been Ania who had been apprehensive-but not tonight.

She worked late. No dancing but nonstop serving and waiting on tables. Then she put on her jacket and began to walk home. Marek ran after her.

"Is something wrong, Ania? You have been very strange tonight," he asked.

"No." She continued walking.

"I mean, you know the situation. We are into Oliwia's father for so much money, you and I can't make any move at this stage. And of course little Katarina is getting older and sees things, so she can't be around the cafe so much, which means I have to be up at the house more. But you know all that."

"Yes." Ania didn't break her stride.

"And you do realize that I love you and only you?"

"Sure."

"So what's all the att.i.tude about?"

"Go back, Marek. Back to the cafe. Julita will wonder what has happened to you."

"Julita?" He stopped as if shot. "You mean Oliwia."

"No. I mean Julita; she will be in a good mood because she has a lovely vase of flowers, but she will wonder why you are not coming upstairs to see her."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he bl.u.s.tered.

"Good-bye, Marek."

"What does this mean?" He was starting to look defeated.

"What it says. Good-bye."

"You are leaving the cafe."

"I have left."

"But you can't do that. What about your wages ...and ...everything ..."

"I have taken my wages from the till. I left a note."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know."

"You'll get over this-it's a silly fit. It's nothing."

"No, I won't."

"You got over my marrying Oliwia. You came back to my bed after that."

"I know. Wasn't it extraordinary?" Ania said.

They were nearly at her house now and he realized he wasn't going to get any further tonight. "Tomorrow, when all is calm, we will talk. There is a phrase, 'Morning is wiser than night.' Perhaps it's right."

"Yes, perhaps."

"See you tomorrow, Ania."

"Good-bye, Marek."

She did not close her eyes that night, which was just as well, since there was a lot to be done. She finished a great mound of her mother's sewing work and left the garments neatly ironed, folded with labels on each one. Then she sat down and wrote a long letter to her mother. Once she got the first few lines, it was easy to write.

Dearest Mamusia,I have been a poor daughter to you and I mean to make it up. I have been so very, very foolish, Mamusia, seeing love where there was no love, believing words which were not true and making myself into such a foolI have to go away. I will make it up to you, Mamusia, believe me, I will. I will go to Ireland with Lidia. But first I will tell you the whole story. No more lies, Mamusia. Just the whole sad stupid story...

Then it was simple. In fact, Ania wondered why she had never told her before. She packed a suitcase to take with her and placed the rest of her clothes in a cardboard box in case they would be of any use to her sisters. She left the green jacket on top, the one her mother had trimmed with velvet. The outfit she had worn when she met Marek.

She left the pink-and-white enamel pin, the one that she had bought to hold his attention, in a little box for her mother. Just before dawn she brought her mother breakfast in bed. Warm bread and honey and milky coffee.

Mamusia sat up in bed, delighted.

"It's not my birthday, Ania. Why did you do this?"

"I have to catch the early bus, Mamusia. Take your time getting up. Everything's done downstairs."

"You are the best daughter in the world."

"Go back to sleep, Mamusia."

"See you this evening, little Ania."

"Good-bye, Mamusia," she said.

She had tidied and emptied her bedroom, and left the envelope of her savings on the kitchen table for Mamusia to find. She looked around the house for the last time and pulled the door closed after her.

From the next town she took a train to the city and a plane to Dublin; she had hardly any money left when she arrived. She owed it all to Mamusia, who would now have to face life without her. She, Ania, would start saving all over again.

This was a rich, rich country with jobs everywhere. Lidia had been pleased when Ania telephoned that morning and had given her an address to go to. Her apartment was upstairs over a Polish restaurant and Ania would arrive late in the evening. If Lidia wasn't there, Ania could wait downstairs and have a coffee. Lidia would tell them she was coming.

Sitting in the bus leaving the Dublin airport, she looked open-mouthed at all the huge motorways, all the new buildings, the tall craggy cranes reaching up into the sky. As they drew nearer the city center, she saw big houses, apartment blocks and buildings all lit up in the night sky. There were hundreds of young people moving around the wide streets and elegant squares. Had she arrived on a festival day or during a carnival?

She showed the handwritten address to people, and they waved her in the right direction. Soon she was in the Polish restaurant having a bowl of soup and talking to the friendly people who worked there.

Lidia would be back soon, they said. She worked in several bars and restaurants; they did not know which one it was tonight. And then Lidia came in and there were hugs and tears and the people who owned the restaurant offered them some plum brandy.

"Where are you going to work, Ania?" one of the waiters asked her.

"I don't know yet-I still feel I am in Poland." She smiled.

"Maybe you could wash and iron our clothes here!"

"Oh, I would be very happy-"

"She would be very happy to see you well dressed and smart," Lidia finished for Ania before she could agree to do their laundry for them.

"But why won't you come to work for us? Both of you?" the man said with a huge smile.

"Because if we had wanted to work for Polish no-hopers who drink a bucket of beer each a night, then we wouldn't have come all this way. Plenty of those back home," said Lidia cheerfully and she propelled Ania upstairs.

The apartment was small and poky. They had a tiny bedroom each.

"You didn't get a flatmate?" Ania asked in admiration.

"No ..."

"You knew I'd come eventually?"

"When you were ready," Lidia said.

It wasn't hard to get work in Dublin if you were prepared to clean floors, wash dishes, look after old people or stack shelves. But Ania's English was not good.