Chapter 12
Everybody chokes
When they see someone cut down in their prime
It may not show when you look at me
But I know I’m in mine
I’m potent, baby, I’m potent
Dangerous to the naked eye
Rest your head on this bed of mother’s pride
And find out why
The morning sun streamed across the room from a gap in the white chiffon curtains and warmed her cheek as she struggled to stay in her dream and stretching herself out inside the soft white sheets Rhona felt the man’s hands, strong and calloused feeling for her breasts. The hands found their object, cupping her soft, firm flesh within his palms and squeezing them caringly.
Rhona dreamed and imagined, for she had no desire to wake yet for another day of work and submission. She craved these moments and sleep was her fond ally in this life of discipline and purpose, it gave her both freedom and anonymity.
She dreamed of being a wife, of living in the country, of wearing smart clothes and enjoying light lunches with a girlfriend or meeting her brother, her sister, her mother.. She wanted her own house, a garden and paintings, famous paintings, full of colour. Impressions and nudes; architectural studies and flowers, bold impasto flowers.. Pencil sketches, pastel drawings and bright curtain fabrics in classic designs, plush, deep-pile carpets, hand-made furniture and expensive, patterned wallpapers.
Rhona wanted to live in style, not necessity, to choose her own diary not live a life chosen for her. Despite her appreciation for the life that Jacob designed for her, Jamie’s visits always brought these personal feelings tumbling out and fighting within her on the days that he would bring her flowers.
Lillies, roses, irises, bold and fresh bunches that she would have imagined when she knew he was coming to visit. Chrysanthemums, tulips, nasturtiums, all with munificent blooms, billowing and cascading, as her hopes and dreams, in her room, while now she felt the rough hands around her holding her tightly.
She turned over to kiss him on the lips, a thank you for all his gentle love when she felt the rough hairy arms of another man and remembered that of course the man in her bed was not at this time, Jamie Holmes at all.
”Morning babes.” The man spoke.
Don’t you wanna take me home?
Don’t you wanna take me home?
Give me a sense of purpose
A real sense of purpose now
Give me a sense of purpose
A real sense of purpose now
Rhona remembered suddenly what had happened the night before and the meeting that Jacob had arranged from London where he was staying. She had been uncertain, meeting a new man while Jacob was so far away and had contacted both Paul and Benedykt to make sure they knew about this latest liason. Jacob had already been in touch with both men and Rhona now reassured, had journeyed to the club Mandala at ul. Emilii Plater where at 20:30 hours she would meet Sean and after a night of dancing to reggae, jazz and soul, drinking lager, tequila and vodka and eating thai green curry and rice, she invited him back and made him aware of her skills ‘in the sack’. All in all it hadn’t been a bad night out, better than most.
“Gud morning Sean, we hud gud night last night huh?”
The man, opening his eyes and yawning, rubbed his brow, smiled and touched her cheek.
“Sure did babes. As good a night as I’ve known in this God-forsaken country.”
“O I see, well I don’t think God has forsaken us yet, ha ha.”
“Just a figure of speech hunny. Don’t be taking me too seriously.”
“Oh no, I see. Well I won’t be taking you seriously at all then.”
They both laughed and then kissed. His hands explored her smooth body. He was feeling a little more polite than he had last night, when aided by more than a few drinks.
The couple kissed again, a long and lingering kiss that implied a friendship far longer than the 10 full hours they had known each other. “Have you been doing this long then sweetie?”
“What am I doing Mr Freedom Fighter?”
“Huh, don’t announce that too loud hunny, remember the walls have ears and I’ve heard their paper thin too? Well let’s think, what are you doing babes? Being a consort, maybe a bit of free totty? Or maybe your just sorta’ underground groopie I don’t really know?”
Rhona was silent, she knew very clearly what she was and it wasn’t that or any of those things.
“Sorry, I wasn’t trying to insult you hun.”
Bully boys don’t bother me
I purse my lips and they run away
Guys like you who are gentle and true
Don’t come around here everyday
“I’m just thinking maybe you could be doing bit better than this sweetie, that’s all. I mean, you are without doubt a real babe hun.”
“Well thank you Mr. Freedom Fighter, you are not so bad your self, mister.”
He considered her latest little indiscretion but continued.
“How long have you been doing this babe?”
“I get the impression you don’t approve mister, although I don’t see you struggling very hard to get out of my bed now, Sean? That’s how you say it, yes? Sean?”
She mocked him with his name repeatedly.
“Don’t get me wrong hunny, you won’t be hearing me complain at all. I’ve enjoyed myself a lot, really I have. Just think your worth a lot more babe. You’re a classy lady from where I’m standing. Ha, or lying as the case may be.”
As compliments went this was not bad but Rhona had heard a lot better. Sean at least had attempted a little joke. Rhona tried to change the subject.
“So, tell me Sean how did you get to meet Jacob?”
The man’s hands had been working their way sexily down her body and were now brushing her sensitive place. Rhona was feeling that for this guy maybe she had done enough already.
I’m potent, baby, I’m potent
Just one swig of me would get most guys smashed
But a drop of yours makes me stagger and swerve
I guess I’m outclassed
“D’ya know what, I was asking myself the very same question? I think it must have been one of those sort of parties you get invited to and then when you get there, ya’ find out it’s a lot more interesting than you thought it was gonna be… I think it turned out to be a sort of a ‘meet and greet’ with a few of us itinerant rebels. ‘Aye, Bad boys R’us’ sort of a ldo and you know what, we just got chatting, kind of.”
Rhona found Sean’s lilting Irish brogue quite charming but it made some of his words and phrases difficult to pick up and it led to a certain amount of confusion.
“It is not the first time that Jacob has got involved with the IRA I don’t think Sean.”
“Hey, hey, hey hun, now when did `I mention the army?”
“O, I don’t know, which army is that then Sean?”
“The Irish Republic Army babes. Now you did mention the IRA now didn’t you hunny?”
“I’m sorry Sean I thought you did, must not have heard you properly.”
“Its okay hun, I don’t mind. Bit of a dead giveaway I suppose, what with the Irish accent and all. Irish boy, ‘explosives expert’, ‘bad boy’, join the dots eh?. Although, I don’t think it very professional of Jacob if he has been talking about me and all.”
“Well he has not Sean and I’ve got it wrong I think. I don’t know what you said, maybe it was IRS or something like that. I wasn’t listening properly, I’m sorry if I upset you.” Rhona jumped out of bed, she grabbed her robe. “I’ll make us some coffee.”
Sean got out of bed too and followed her to the kitchen. “That’s ok hunny, it’s true I did run with the IRA anyway. Since I was a kid really. My father was a strong Provo. I was raised into it. So I don’t mind. I was just wondering how we got on to that, that’s all.”
“Well I don’t know either Sean, so let’s just drop it now shall we?”
Everybody chokes
When they see someone cut down in their prime
Take this plea to your heart
– lift me in mine
Don’t you wanna take me home?
Don’t you wanna take me home?
Rhona was filling a kettle, placing mugs on a tray. It was not part of her remit to discuss the work of the men she entertained and she knew Jacob would not be pleased if he thought she had been quizzing any of them.
“Okay, babe. Anyway, I’ve not been involved with those ‘bhoys’ for some while, not since they got so political an all. Been running as a free agent for quite a few years. It’s not easy picking up work when you’re just an itinerant ‘explosives expert’ and with my cv, I can tell you? Even got into demolition work for a while in Belgium, I was earning pretty good money too. So of course when I met Jacob and he needed someone to help, I was interested.”
Rhona wanted to change the record, she did not want to hear any more.
“Hey Sean lets get out for some breakfast. I know where there’s a wery nice ‘kawiarnia’. Come on take me out and buy me some coffee and some ‘buleczka’ please.”
She was now speaking to him in her sultriest, sexiest voice. Rhona pouted seductively and walked slowly and jauntily toward him. She stood in front of the naked man and leaning back against the kitchen table she let her robe fall from her shoulders and tumble onto the floor.
Give me a sense of purpose
A real sense of purpose now
Give me a sense of purpose
A real sense of purpose now
Give me a sense of purpose
A real sense of purpose now
Give me a sense of purpose
A real sense of purpose now
An hour later they left the hastily emptied table and the flat and dressed in warm and comfortable clothes and woolly hats they stepped out into the still morning light. Arm in arm they looked every inch a ‘couple’ as they went in search of Rhona’s favourite coffee house.
Rhona could not be sure if the extra affection she was now showing to this guy was to compensate for the fact she was missing Jamie or because she was worried Sean would complain to Jacob about her bringing up his IRA connections. It was probably a bit of both.
Jacob had indeed casually mentioned Sean’s IRA history when he phoned her to arrange the meeting and Rhona knew it had been careless of her to let that slip despite the fact she felt sure Sean had mentioned the IRA himself.
The streets, the people, the buildings, the landscape were now alive in the pale morning light. Rhona was beginning to feel tired, as the effects of the previous night’s alcohol and the exhilaration of their lovemaking began to wane. They walked with the sound of their steps rebounding off the streets and buildings of this Wawelska region of Warsaw
How many people could Rhona love? This was the question that went through her brain as they walked. She was tired of trying to remain faithful to everyone. Tired of being a mother to so many ‘children’. For all men seemed like children to Rhona at this moment and they needed constant nursing. They were ‘there’ all of the time and when it wasn’t them or her work, then it was Jacob in her brain, somehow even stronger while he was away.
Jamie was different, he struck a different chord, wrote a special sonnet, Jamie was a real man. Jamie gave her space and room to breath and Jamie brought her flowers but where was Jamie right now? She hadn’t heard from him for nearly two weeks. They crossed the quiet street, it was Sunday morning and she hoped the ‘kawiarnia’ was, after all, open today for coffee
“Will you give me your number Rhona? So we can keep in touch.”
“That’s not really the way it works mister, didn’t Jacob tell you?”
“Yes, he told me but that was before you met me babes? Sean laughed a little self-consciously. “Surely, you’ve felt something between us Rhona, haven’t you?”
“I’ll ring you, Sean, that’s the way Jacob likes it. That’s the way I like it. It has to be that way, you know that.”
Sean stopped for a moment and held her arm. “No, I don’t know that Rhona. As I say hunny, I think there has to be something better for you than all this.”
“Sean, I wish you would stop saying that to me. What do you really know about me or my life?’ She pulled away from his grasp and continued walking, A dog began barking and then another. Rhona could hear more dogs barking in the distance. This was common in Poland where dogs are kept outside and not so much as pets. Rhona could hear dogs baying and barking all around her today. Men were like dogs as well as children she considered and they had to be trained.
“You huve only just met me, Sean. You don’t know about my life at all. Now, look there is the place where you can buy me coffee and ‘buleczka’. Stop telling me about how much better I could do, will you? Buy me some breakfast. I am hungry.”
“Okay sweet babe, Rhona or whatever they call you, I’ll buy you some breakfast but what the fuck are these buleka anyway, just tell me that?”
She smiled, held his arm and guiding him through the shop doorway, she whispered “Buleczka, mister Sean, are Polish bread rolls, they will still be warm and they are wery nice”
In her flat, Rhona’s phone is ringing. It switches to answer-phone. It records this message. It was a phone call from Jacob:
‘Rhona, I want you to come to London. I have special work for you to do. I want you to help an old man feel very happy about himself. I can’t trust anyone else with this work. I want you to call on ‘B’ and find out when he is next coming to England. He can give you a lift. I’ll text you with the address in London. It will be good for you to go on a trip, Rhona. Ciou Rhona- you are still the best.’
An excerpt from a novel by edenbraywritten 28.11.11
edenbray - the poet - SITE A 