Keeping Granny Company

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It had been snowing for most of the day, Klara wrapped a scarf round her neck and took the lift down to the ground floor. She left her block of flats and hurried down the street. She looked like any young woman going out on a cold December evening. She wore black boots, tights, black skirt and a grey, thick jumper covered by a long, black coat and of course her black woollen scarf that Granny had knitted her. If you looked a bit closer, you'd see everything was a little older than it first looked, including Klara herself who was often mistaken for a 25 year old, despite being in her mid thirties.  

A quick glance at the clock on the lamppost told her she was a little late. She tried to hurry but she had to be careful on the icy pavement. The streets were empty; people preferring to stay at home in the warm. The wind whistled through her clothes and she shivered as she passed the large, ugly tower of the secret police building. The dark building reminded her this was real, very real.

Granny was sitting in the corner of the badly lit, L-shaped cafe. Klara felt slightly guilty using her grandmother to hide what she was doing. She greeted granny with a kiss and hug, took off her coat, sat down and ordered tea from the old waiter. She looked around her. There were two other people in the cafe; both were men, both were sitting alone and both were drinking vodka. Both of them watched her like she was an exotic creature.

She answered granny's questions about work and listened to granny's medical conditions. She sipped at her tea and lit cigarettes for her and her grandmother.

The way the women blew out smoke was exactly the same. Granny was 45 years older but they were similar in many ways. Granny had been in the resistance during the war, fighting the Nazis, going around at night, avoiding the enemy. Klara was also fighting the government, okay a different ideology – but the same problems.  

Klara put her cigarette out and nodded towards the toilets. She stood up, straightened her skirt and went through the door at the end of the restaurant. In front of her were two more doors, she entered the one marked 'ladies', locked it and waited. It wasn't long before she heard the door open and someone locking the men's toilet door.

‘The night is cold and lonely.' The voice was clear and strong. Klara wondered which man it was, the one with the beard or the clean-shaven one with the beautiful, but scary, blue eyes.

'The arrow points the way,' she replied through the walls. Her voice was calm, her heartbeat normal, hands dry.

She left the toilet, dropped the package on the floor washed her hands and went back to her table.

Back in the cafe the man with the blue eyes was watching her. She blushed a little as she sat down. Granny smiled at her and looked at the man.

'Very handsome isn't he,' she teased her granddaughter. Klara had to agree, but the man scared her.

The toilet door opened again, and the bearded man walked nonchalantly through the cafe and out into the snowstorm. Klara hoped he had found the package she had left for him.

Klara walked her granny home, it was not far from the cafe but in the icy conditions granny needed a little help. After they said goodbye, Klara headed home. It was hard work, the wind was in her face and the ice was very dangerous. It was dark and lonely, not a soul in sight. She shivered.

As Klara turned into her street she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned round to see the man with the blue eyes staring at her. She knew he was a policeman. This was it; this was the moment she had feared. Now she would go to jail and then face the punishment, which would be death. The man spoke but it was difficult to hear him in the wind.  She put her hands out ready to be arrested. The man put a black scarf into her hands.

'You left this at the cafe,' he shouted. Klara looked at the scarf and looked again at the beautiful blue eyes. She smiled feeling relieved. The man turned and walked away.

Pavel was a policeman, and he had been watching Klara for 3 weeks, but in that time he’d forgotten she was an enemy and had fallen in love with her.  The way she moved, the way she laughed, everything about her was perfect. So he had a choice to make, he knew she had made contact with 'them' tonight, knew she'd handed over the film he’d seen her make, but could he arrest her? No. In the morning his report would say that she was no longer a suspect. She was just a girl keeping her granny company on a cold winter's night.

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