I continued looking around, hating being here, but then I saw a boy standing by the stage staring at me with an expression I had never seen before. He looked a little older than I was, perhaps around twenty, and he was taller than me. Even though four girls surrounded him, I stared back. And in that moment of looking back into his face, something inside me moved. I could feel the heat rising to my cheeks. My breathing became shallow and my heart pumped faster. We gazed at each other for a moment or two, but it was a moment or two too long. It wasn’t what strangers did. I couldn’t look away, and when he did – I almost groaned.
After a moment, I turned and tugged Lodzia’s sleeve. ‘Who’s he over there?’
‘Where?’
‘Don’t look now, but he’s over by the stage with those four girls.’
‘I’ve no idea, but I’ll find out if you like.’
‘No, you mustn’t,’ I whispered. ‘He mustn’t know I like him.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, what’s the matter with you? I’m not that daft.’ Lodzia was un-wrapping the shawl from around her head and shoulders. ‘He’s looking at you again.’
I couldn’t resist turning around and giving him a coy smile before lowering my gaze.
‘Anyway, I thought you were pining after Jusio.’
I felt a fleeting pang of betrayal, but these fresh feelings were so exciting that the urge to keep looking at this boy was uncontrollable.
‘Well?’
‘He didn’t write.’
She gave me a searching look. ‘Now, that’s not like Jusio. He’s one of the kindest, most thoughtful boys I know. I suppose you sent him your address. Anyway, don’t be so impatient; there’s a war on.’
I stared back. ‘Address?’
‘Ahh, Marishu….’
‘I never thought. I’ve never written a letter before, have I? There’s never been a need. Anyway, I had other things to tell him; urgent things he needed to know so he could help us.’
‘No wonder he hasn’t replied. You are such a scatterbrain. Write to him again tomorrow.’
‘Yes, yes, but what about him over there? How do I get an introduction? How did you meet Gerhard?’
‘We met at the church hall in Zhabinka. He came over and asked me to dance.’
‘Yes, but I can’t just walk over and ask him, can I? He might think I’m forward. Who do you think those girls are?’ All four were beautiful, and I cursed myself again for hacking off my hair.
‘I don’t have a clue. Hey look – Smirnov’s arrived.’
The room fell silent. Everyone turned to stare. Even though the gramophone was still playing, my brothers and Zygmunt struck up on stage. However, instead of playing a Mazurka, bidding everyone to dance, they launched into Idje Sen (I’m going to sleep). Everyone knew the lullaby, and began humming in tune, louder and louder, and louder still until the humming blotted out the music and it felt as if everyone was shouting. No one took to the floor; no one was smiling, making it clear they were here only at puppeteer Smirnov’s behest.
I spun around to look at the stage, but my brothers and Zygmunt were no longer playing; they were humming along with the rest.
When I looked back, Smirnov had gone, but the gorgeous boy was walking towards me.
I held my breath. Me? He’s coming to me! I opened my mouth to speak. But Damn! He’d only come to turn off the gramophone hiccupping behind me, stuck in a grove. I hadn’t even noticed. I tried to step out of his path. He stepped the same way. I stepped to the other side, and so did he. ‘Sorry,’ I stammered.
He fixed me with his eyes and smiled – just that. He lifted the arm from the record, closed the lid, then walked off toward the four girls.
I turned and looked at Lodzia ‘I thought he would speak to me.’ I felt so stupid; I was sure I was blushing.
Lodzia whispered, ‘He’s still looking.’
I glanced over my shoulder. Yes, he was looking, but not at my face – at my boots. Oh God, he’s looking at my boots! What must he be thinking? They don’t go with this dress. When I looked up to face him, he grinned.
He grinned at me!
He gave a tiny nod, and I couldn’t work out if he found my boots amusing, or he liked me. Or if he was grinning because he’d never seen such a frump; too polite to laugh out loud, as Karol had.
‘Get over yourself, Marishu. Everyone here’s wearing valenki.’
The lullaby ended, replaced by a Polka.
Natasha arrived, stamped snow off her boots, unwrapped her long scarf and joined us. She glanced over at the stage, twiddled her fingers at Karol and blew him a kiss.
I leaned against the wall and watched couples taking to the floor. I’d never done the Polka, so it was as well no one asked me, not that anyone would, the way I looked. I glanced over towards the boy. He was leaning against the wall with both hands behind the small of his back, one knee bent, his foot propped against the wood. A girl was speaking to him, and he seemed absorbed in what she was saying. Who was she?
The next dance was a waltz, and my heart quickened. I yearned for him to ask me. I could do the waltz. Lodzia taught me last year. One, two, three, one, two, three – we did it in a straight line all the way from the house down to the pigsty and back, until I got the hang of it. I sighed. He was wasting time. If he didn’t make haste, the music would end. It ended.
Natasha said something, and I turned around to reply. They were playing yet another waltz, and Lodzia was making urgent facial expressions at me.
Before I asked what she meant, I felt a tap on my shoulder, ‘Will you dance with me?’
The adrenalin rush made the hairs on my face and neck stand on end, and an unexpected gush of desire consumed me. It was the boy. I fell into his arms. Like a buffoon, I smiled and spoke at the same time and it all came out gibberish, unrecognisable even to me, but he didn’t seem to care. Instead, I concentrated on my steps; One, two, three, but there was no music, no tempo when Lodzia taught me to dance, and I trod on my boots. I felt such a twit. What must he think?
He threw back his head and laughed, grabbing me tighter about the waist and did a twirl. Oh God, Lodzia didn’t teach me how to twirl; but I managed to stand upright. He had such beautiful eyes; they mesmerised me.
‘Do you have a name?’
‘It’s Marisha.’
He made a nodding motion as if he approved. ‘Mine’s Stefan. Where are you from?’
‘Szpitali. We have – we had a farm. It’s about 9km north of Zhabinka and you?’
‘We lived on the outskirts of Kobryn.’
‘And is your father a farmer too?’
‘My father worked in forestry. They brought me up on a farm, but he’s a forester; and so am I.’
The waltz was ending, and I hoped my brothers wouldn’t play anything where I could make a bigger fool of myself, but they continued with another waltz and I sent up a silent, ‘Thank you, God.’
Stefan’s hand moved up to my shoulder blades, drawing me closer, his other hand clutching mine to his chest, our foreheads touching.
‘I like your hair,’ he said, ‘it’s – different. It emphasises your eyes.’
‘Thank you! I agonised over cutting it off for ages,’ I fibbed.
Time seemed to stop and we kept on dancing the waltz, irrespective of what was playing. When the music ended, we remained entwined on the floor waiting for the next dance, but that was it. Lodzia came over and tapped me on the shoulder. ‘Come on, bed time.’
Stefan held my hand, letting my fingers slip through his own. ‘I enjoyed tonight. Will you be coming again?’
‘Yes!’ I blew him a kiss and hurried out into the night after Lodzia, Natasha and my brothers. Blowing him another illicit kiss, I threw my hood over my head, and turned away, feeling totally brazen. This had to be the most exciting night of my life!