B Czech Mate

Czech Mate

"He's perfect," said Wendy.

"That's what you said about Alex," said Lara

"Alex?"

"Remember," said Lara, cradling the phone against her shoulder while
she moved the Yellow Pages off the seat to make space to sit down. "You
used to work with him. You got me to meet him for a drink. Perfect you
said. Just right for me. Half an hour into the date he had smashed a
glass and threatened the barman."

"Ah yes, Alex," said Wendy. "Well I did warn you not to let him
drink."

"I thought you meant a lot," said Lara. "I thought you meant pints.
He'd only had half a lager shandy."

"Well this time is different. Vaclav really is perfect. Trust
me."

"Vaclav! What kind of name is that?"

"He's Czech."

"Czech?" said Lara.

"Yeah you know, Prague, snow, castles. Romance. ROMANCE! Lara, it's
what you need. Go on, meet him."

"I'm not sure."

"He'll be disappointed."

"Disappointed, how could he be disappointed?" said Lara. And then it
struck her. "Wend, you haven't, have you? You haven't told him I'd meet
him? I told you to stop interfering. Honestly, I'm fine single. It's
not the end of the world you know."

"I thought you'd be pleased. Honestly, he's lovely. Really dishy. He's
dying to meet you."

There was a pause as Lara was thinking and twirling the phone cord
around her fingers. Dying to meet her. That certainly made a change
from people dying on her. She was an intensive care nurse.

"Just one question," said Lara.

"Yes?" said Wendy.

"How do you know him?"

"I met him at work."

"Oh."

Lara knew that Wendy had just started a new job as a secretary in a
solicitors' office. She imagined a handsome young man in a suit, well
spoken with a slightly foreign accent and a collection of diplomas from
international universities. He must be bilingual. And Eastern European.
Perhaps he could recite Czech poetry to her, teach her of a new
culture. Prague was beautiful, she had seen it on a holiday programme.
They could spend weekends there, walking in the shadow of the castle
walls, sneaking into cosy bars, savouring stinging liqueurs.

"OK," she said decisively into the mouthpiece of the phone, "I'll meet
him."

"Great," Wend screamed. "And you have to promise me one thing."

"Yes?" said Lara, "What?"

"You'll tell me all the details."

"Wend!"

Despite herself Lara found that she was excited. She'd been on enough
of these things, arranged by well-meaning friends, since her divorce
two years previously to know not to expect too much. But that morning
she hadn't been able to eat any breakfast, not even a slice of toast
and the tea on an empty stomach had made her nauseous.

She'd arrived at the rendezvous twenty minutes early. Wendy had
arranged for them to meet at twelve o'clock outside Boots. The plan was
to go for a coffee and then if they liked each other they could take it
from there.

Lara looked at her watch. It was two minutes to twelve. It was almost
too late to back out now. She scanned the passing faces. Tall, Wendy
had said, with curly brown hair and green eyes. You can't miss him.
Lara found herself looking for someone in a suit and then laughed at
herself. He wouldn't be wearing one, not on his day off but he would be
smart and clean. She thought of high sculpted cheek bones and taut
flawless skin.

There was a tap on her shoulder. She spun round.

"Sorry," she said. "Am I in your way? I'll move. Sorry."

In front of her was a tall man. He had a bucket full of soapy water in
one hand and a squeegee in the other. Over his left shoulder was
hanging a grimy chamois-leather, dripping water down his T-shirt and
even dribbling drops onto his filthy jeans. Obviously he was a window
cleaner. Lara thought she was in the way. She was leaning against the
shop window.

"Sorry," said the man, smiling.

"That's OK," said Lara.

"I had an emergency," said the man, still smiling and now holding up
the bucket as if in evidence.

"Excuse me?" said Lara.

"Yes, a big emergency," said the man again. "Old Mr Wing from the
Chinese restaurant on the front called me. His display was ruined by a
swarm of seagulls."

"A swarm?" said Lara.

"That's right. Very many. There was a big mess everywhere but I
cleaned it as quickly as possible and then I came here to meet you.
Sorry if I'm late."

"Late?" said Lara. It still hadn't clicked. Not quite.

"Yes," said the man pulling off his black woollen hat and revealing a
mass of brown curls. "For our date."

It clicked.

"You're Vaclav?" said Lara.

"That's right," said the man smiling even more broadly.
"Vaclav."

"And you work with Wendy?"

"Not with her exactly," said Vaclav.

"Then what exactly," said Lara.

"I clean the windows in the office. I'm a window cleaner."

"So you're not a solicitor then?"

And now Vaclav laughed, throwing back his head. It was a big bellowing
sound that came from somewhere deep inside him and it bounced off the
glass walls. Several shoppers turned to look. Finally, at last, he
controlled himself.

"No," he said.

"Right," said Lara.

"You thought I was a solicitor," said Vaclav, "dressed like
this?"

"Well no," said Lara, "not dressed like that. But Wendy said, well she
didn't say but she kind of led me to believe that well you worked with
her, in the office."

"Oh," said Vaclav, "But I thought....I thought....No."

"What?" said Lara.

"No nothing." said Vaclav, putting down his bucket and rubbing his
eye.

"What?" said Lara. "What were you going to say?"

"It's just that...."

"Yes?"

"Well, Wendy said you liked working men. She said you would like me.
So when Mr Wing called I thought I could, you say in English, kill two
birds with one stone. I thought you'd see me like this and you'd like
me. I'm sorry. I'm an idiot, yes?" Vaclav picked up his bucket again.
"I'm sorry to embarrass you. Look I'll go."

And he turned, slopping water from the bucket, against the side of his
leg and started to make his way into the Saturday throng.

Lara watched him for a moment and then she had an idea.

"Hey Vaclav!" she shouted.

He stopped and turned back to face her.

"Can I ask you one thing?"

"Yes," he said.

"Have you got a ladder?"

"Yes," he said.

"And a van?" said Lara.

"That's two things," he said and smiled again. "But yes. I have a
van."

"Good," said Lara. "I have a plan. Let's go."

On the journey Vaclav told Lara of his childhood in Prague. He told her
of skating on the Vltava in winter and wild snowball fights with crazy
kids that went on for hours until clothes were soaked and fingers were
raw. He told her of smoke-filled bars where beer was served by waiters
without question and there was no music, like here, and everyone sat
and talked and talked and talked. Talked of their lives, loves, hopes
and desires. He told her of one magical night when he and all his
friends had gathered arm in arm in Wenceslas Square and cheered and
cheered for the end of communism and of week long celebrations of
inebriation due to new found freedoms.

Lara was so captivated that she missed the house and they had to
reverse back to it.

"So you know what to do?" said Lara.

"Yes," said Vaclav. "But are you sure?"

"Sure," said Lara. "It's about time someone learnt their lesson. It's
about time someone learnt there's a difference between helping and
interfering, a difference between lies and the truth."

"OK," said Vaclav. "You're the boss."

Lara watched as Vaclav got himself ready. She did feel a bit bad but
Wendy had been asking for it. A month earlier she had met another one
of Wendy's blind dates. He was lovely, good looking, funny, intelligent
and after two years of being alone she began to think she had
companionship again. And then one day, quite by chance, she'd found out
that he was married. Married. She had phoned Wendy in floods of tears,
wanting some comfort and had discovered that Wendy had known all along.
Wendy had known he had a wife, two kids and a semi on the right side of
town.

Earlier in the shopping centre when Vaclav had picked up his bucket
and started to walk away it had suddenly struck Lara what it was all
about. She was Wendy's foil, the opposite against which Wendy defined
herself. If Lara was miserable, single, desperate then it only
reinforced Wendy's own happiness, her marriage, her nice life. And the
craziest thing was, thought Lara, was that she wasn't unhappy. She
quite enjoyed her single life, being able to do what she wanted. A
partner would be great, fantastic, but it wasn't the be all and end
all.

From the house Vaclav signalled that he was ready.

Lara took out her mobile phone and called Wendy's number.

"Hello," Wendy answered.

"Wend," said Lara, "it's me, I'm outside. Outside your house. Quick
I've got something to show you."

"What?" said Wendy.

"Look," said Lara, "don't argue. Just come outside. I've got a
surprise."

"OK," said Wendy. "Coming."

The bucket of water wasn't full. That would have been too cruel. And
the water wasn't freezing. Not absolutely. But it was cold
enough.

As Wendy opened the door and stood on her porch Vaclav looked back
over his shoulder from his position on the ladder leant against the
side of the house.

Lara nodded. Vaclav tipped.

Wendy was soaked, drenched, dripping from head to toe. She just stood
there, gasping for breath, her hair flat against her skull.

Lara looked at Vaclav and started to laugh and then Vaclav was
laughing too. They laughed together until they could laugh no more and
tears were streaming from their eyes.

Vaclav had offered to take Lara home. They were sitting in his van
outside her house.

"Well," said Lara. "Thanks."

"That's OK," said Vaclav. "Bye."

"Bye," said Lara. She put her hand on the handle, hesitating.

"Lara?"

"Yes Vaclav?"

"I just wanted to say...."

"Yes Vaclav?"

"I just wanted to say I had a nice time today."

"Yeah," said Lara. "Me too." She opened the door. "Vaclav?"

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

Vaclav shrugged. "Nothing."

"Well if you're not busy, why don't you come round?" Lara smiled. "My
windows could do with a bit of a wipe."

"Right," said Vaclav, smiling too. "I'll bring my bucket."

"Great," said Lara. "And if you like you can stay for dinner."

"Dinner," said Vaclav. "That would be nice. I couldn't say no, could
I?"

"Oh no," said Lara, "why not?"

"Well," said Vaclav, grinning. "I've seen what you do to people who
make you angry."

Lara was still smiling when she put her key in the lock. What had
Wendy said on the phone? Perfect. Perhaps this time she had been
right.

Perfect, he was perfect.

And then she thought of Wendy. Wendy had been right.

"Oh my God," said Lara. "What have I done?"