It was many years ago now.
That he had kept it a secret all this time only compounded his disgust.
We talked, we discussed.
That Dawid potentially knew things Tomek didn’t made him want to throttle his older brother. And not stop until someone forced him to.
Ever since Michał’s death, the two of them had grown apart, distant. They had never truly been close beforehand, but their middle brother’s murder had worsened the divide between them. It was no secret that everyone in Tomek’s family harboured some sort of resentment towards him for the hurt and anguish he’d caused them over the years. Dawid’s resentment had been muted, silent, but no less profound. His brother hadn’t looked out for him on the playground, hadn’t helped him with his homework, hadn’t been there to support him like an older brother should growing up. Instead, he’d looked after number one, becoming the only shining light in their parents’ eyes, and he’d lapped it up. Now he was a highly successful, highly paid insurance broker with a family – and secrets – of his own. Tomek couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to Dawid. But something told him he was going to remember this conversation.
Looking down into his lap, he pulled out his phone from his pocket and found Dawid’s number in his address book. As the phone trilled in his ear, he surveyed the street, his eyes gradually falling on the flat living room window. The lights were on, curtains still not yet drawn. Kasia had been home for hours, yet it was always the last thing she remembered to do.
‘Hello, Mr Tumnus,’ Dawid said suddenly in his ear. His accent was thicker than Tomek’s, only because he was older and had found the transition from Polish to English much more difficult. ‘This is a nice surprise. Is everything all right?’
‘You tell me.’
A brief pause. Tomek heard the sound of a door shutting.
‘What’s happened?’ Dawid asked. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘You tell me.’
‘I would if I knew what you were fucking talking about, mate.’
‘Nathan Burrows.’
Another brief pause. This time followed by the sound of footsteps. ‘I’m familiar with the name. What’s happened?’
‘I bet you’re fucking familiar,’ Tomek said, feeling his body begin to swell with rage and aggression. ‘I heard from him the other day. Found out that the two of you had had a little mothers’ meeting a few years back, a little picnic where you spilled each other’s secrets. How long were you going to keep that from me, huh? How long were you going to keep that a secret, eh?’
‘Tomek, I can—’
‘How come you didn’t have the bollocks to say anything?’
‘Tomek, I—’
‘You know what you are? You’re a coward. After everything that’s—’
‘Tomek!’
His brother’s shout caused him to stop. It was so loud, Tomek removed the phone from the side of his face. He had never heard his brother raise his voice like that. He was usually calm, genteel. Not one to shout or get in your face.
‘Would you just shut the fuck up for one moment?’ Dawid hissed. ‘I swear you sometimes love the sound of your own fucking voice, don’t you? Jesus Christ, mate. Have you finished?’
Tomek said nothing.
‘Good. Now, if you’ll let me, I’d like to explain.’
Tomek opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself.
‘You’re right, yes, I did go to see Nathan. But it was years ago. Four, maybe five. A long time ago. So long that I’d even forgotten about it. I don’t know what possessed me to do it, and I don’t know what made me keep it from everyone. I haven’t even told Kristina, if it’s any consolation.’
‘It’s not, but continue.’
Dawid sighed through the phone. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘What the two of you discussed.’
‘I… I just had some questions.’ A pause. ‘I wanted to know why. The question had been burning a hole in the side of my head for decades, and I just had to know.’
‘Did he tell you?’
‘No.’ Tomek could hear his brother shaking his head at the same time.
‘What did he say?’
‘Just that he was sorry. That he had been sorry for all these years. He said he wanted to make peace with us as a family, but I said that wouldn’t be possible, not while Mum and Dad were still around.’
Something in the flat window flashed and distracted him. It was Kasia, finally shutting the curtains with a forceful swing.
‘Did my name come up at all?’ he asked.
‘It did.’
‘And?’
‘He said he felt sorry for you.’
‘Sorry for me? Why?’
