Urszula's confession

It was me, I found her. Exactly like she described Urszula was lying in bed covered up to her armpits; her left hand resting on a pillow was opened up to the ceiling, fingers curled up like the new born baby’s; right arm was resting on her belly with the back of the hand facing up. Her face was slightly turned to the left. Eyes wide open, and the lips ajar in delicate smile; it looked as if she was smiling at this baby like fist that didn’t belong with the rest of her old lifeless body. Her eyes were shining like freshly fallen concors in the strong autumn sun. Her hair was spread on the pillows and carelessly fallen on her right cheek.

Urszula came to me in my sleep. I knew her from the neighbourhood; she lived in the old house behind the last block of flats. She would sit on the bench in the front garden or stand by the main gate. When she visited me in my sleep for the first time her hair was no longer grey; it regained its long lost gleaming blackness. Despite this change I recognised her straight away; she touched my face and smiled a delicate smile. During her first visit she said nothing, she only stood there looking at me but not seeing me. It was a gaze of someone who came back from the other side. On the second night she looked the same as always; with thin grey hair, dressed in a brown skirt, a blouse with the collar popping up from under the green cardigan and (once upon the time) black shoes. She was bent forward and looking suspiciously around. I’m waiting for you for christsake; she barked irritated. On the third night she was calmer. I’m waiting for you, she said, come visit me tomorrow. The door is open, you don’t need to knock.

What was Urszula thinking about on the day she decided to die? When I asked her about it she didn’t reply straight away. In fact, she didn’t reply at all. She only smiled with that delicate smile, her lips ajar. She looked at the back of the bedroom at the commode. The second drawer from the top was partly open, inside scattered photos. As a young woman Urszula was pretty, she had long, delicate face with big brown eyes and raven black hair always platted at the back. She had a nice figure but looking at the pictures one was getting the impression that she didn’t care much about the way she looked.

Urszula always considered herself different, she never opened her soul to anyone. Yes, she did have so-called friends, people with whom she talked about important and wise things. Usually her involvement in these converstions was mainly listening with occasional interjection.

The day in which Urszula decided to fall asleep forever was no different to any other day that summer. It was Wednesday, the date third of July. Morning was warm and lazy, almost as if the air got bored with the constant movement and decided to have a break. She got up as usual at six in the morning and went into the garden to water the plants and feed the dog. She unfastened the chain on the dog’s collar and left the gate open for him, the dog – old and sick, just like herself – didn’t even react to this sudden act of kindness. It was not interested in freedom anymore. She had breakfast, washed the dishes, dusted the house and put the washing away into wardrobes. She was ready. She took long, hot bath. She used the peeling that Mateusz bought her years ago; rubbed her heels with pumice and washed her hair twice. She was ready.

Back in the kitchen she made coffee and had last two biscuits from the tin. Wall clock struck midday. As always on time the postman appeared in the gate, he walked up to the door and put the letters in the post box on the front door. Familiar rattling was the only farewell from this world. Urszula followed the postman with her gaze out to the street. She didn’t take out the letters, the bills and children from the third world countries were no longer her problem. She went to the bedroom and fell asleep.

***

She dreams that she is a little girl again, she is five and lies in bed. Her mum leans over and wants to kiss and hug her goodnight. Urszula pulls away, she doesn’t want to be kissed or hugged. Ula, mum speaks to her softly, she is worried, she tries to kiss her daughter few more times but it’s in vain. In the end mum says that one day Urszula will want to be kissed and hugged but it will be too late. Mum leaves the room. Ula pretends she doesn’t care; she turns to the wall and with difficulty tries to stop the tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. She won’t cry, she will be strong.

One year later. This time she is in her parents’ bed. Mum is still in the kitchen, probably cleaning up, dad is in the bed next to her watching TV. Ula tries to sleep but the sound from TV distracts her. She twists and turns trying to see from behind her father’s back what’s happening on TV. Without turning around to her dad grabs her foot under the covers. Ula giggles, dad turns to her asks what’s so funny. You’re tickling me, she replies. Dad lifts up the covers, looks down and starts laughing. I thought it was your hand, he says.

Urszula is eight, her little sister probably one and a half. Together with other children they are playing on the stairwell in the block of flats. Ula pushes her little sister. Regina, the oldest in the group, sees this and shouts at Ula; suddenly all the kids gather together and head towards her. They yell something, want to punish her for pushing her sister. Ula is cornered, she has nowhere to run, she can feel coldness of the concrete wall on her back. The children are getting closer, they shout louder, their little faces reddened with anger become bigger with each step they take. They want her to apologise but she won’t do it. She won’t apologise precisely because she knows she should, because they are expecting her to, and because she feels ashamed. One of the neighbours opens the door to see what is happening. The children step back. Ula uses momentarily open space, she grabs her sister and runs to their flat. She presses the door handle but the door is locked. She hits at the door with her fists with all her strenght. Neighbour went back to her flat and the children return to their game. Ula turns back; her oppressors are getting closer. Eternity passes before mum opens the door. Ula tries to squeeze inside, mum demands explanation but Ula ignores her and pushed through inside the flat. The children outside continue screaming. One over the other, they tell mum what Ula has done.

The teenage years. Ula goes to the morning mass; this is the second week of her zealous religiousness. Urszula seriously considers joining the monastery; she likes the idea of spending the rest of her life in silence and praying. She also likes a young priest; his presence at the morning mass makes getting up for six in the morning much easier. A couple of times Ula takes part in the ‘silent days’ organised by the order on the other side of the town. The routine of the life as a nun is tempting; she wouldn’t have to worry about tomorrow; she would only have to be obedient.

At college Urszula discovers orgasm, heavy metal and punk rock. The idea of joining the order is no longer so appealing; the young priest has been moved to another area and Ula stopped attending morning mass. Along with the change of the plans for the future the insecurity creeps in. Ula doesn’t know what to do with her life. She spends hours lying in her bed imagining that her life has just ended; or that the life she has known so far is just a dream and sooner or later she will wake up in this room – this fortress where nothing bad can happen to her. The crack on the ceiling she is always staring at during these ‘sessions’ becomes a symbol of security; it reminds her of times when life was still uncomplicated, it is here now and calms her, it will be here when she wakes up from the dream she is now living and she’ll sight with relief. Only one thing is certain: whatever happens she will always be able to come back to this room, lay down on this bed and stare at the soothing crack on the ceiling.

I don’t know who Charlie is. I take it that Urszula knew him. He is short, stocky, his arms are wide and he has unattractive square face. One needs to look at him closely to be able to notice something interesting. Charlie has longish hair colour of the straw divided in the middle, his nose looks like small flattened tomato sitting over narrow, bright red lips. But all becomes unimportant when one looks into his eyes. Big, filled with blueness; they say everything about him. Charlie is lonely; Urszula found someone like her. The only difference between them is that she is happy with it, while he is trying to get out. Urszula borrows him for a while, she wants to analyse him, wants to know what others see when they look at her. Then she’ll leave him.

She is woken by the steps outside of the bedroom. It’s Charlie’s seventeen year old son going to school. Bye dad, he shouts from the doorway and slams the front door behind him. Bye, Ula shouts back at him. Charlie giggles, he also got woken up by his son. In the morning light pushing through the blinds Urszula can see Charlie’s fat, covered in hair body. She turns on her side and puts her tanned, barely twenty year old arm on his greying chest.

Bożena is furious. She found out about Urszula and Charlie. How could you? You make me sick, she shouts into my face. Urszula passed the baton over to me; I’m not just watching, I’m taking part now. Under her makeup Bożena is purple with fury. She has distinct jaw, thin eyebrows and always smiling eyes. These eyes do not fit the image she is trying to create; always dressed in black, in the leather jacket and compulsory Dr Marten’s boots she supposed to be personalisation of inaccessibility and evil. She is looking at me expectantly. I don’t know what to say; I’m ashamed for Urszula, I know she shouldn’t have done it. But I also understand her, Charlie is not a victim; he had few wonderful nights. This might not happen to him again, he has been marked by Solitude and he will never escape it. I don’t say anything. How could you? Bożena repeats. She seems to be full of dos and don’ts and good advices. I don’t quite get how her and Urszula could be friends. Do you want another beer? I ask. We are in the pub; small, round table that we are sitting at is right by the window. Outside is still light, on the streets of London people rush past our window. I go to the bar and order two pints.

In another pub with Bożena. She is not happy again, this time she doesn’t shout; she is trying to convince me. Don’t do it, one day you’ll regret your choice, she says. It is the most beautiful thing that can happen to a woman. It may not always be easy, but it will definitely be worth it. You’ll manage without Dave. I take a cigarette out of the packet and light it. One puff and I feel sick. My heart is pounding like crazy, hands are sweating, intestines twist into knots and a second later untwine. I really hard not to faint; or even worse. Stubbing pain in my lower abdomen is unbearable. After a minute that seems like an eternity everything calms down. I take a sip of beer and make my decision: this baby won’t be born.

I wake up in some room, Urszula must have lived here at some point. I look in the mirror, I look awful (Ula does); bruised left eye, red lines on the neck. At first I don’t understand what is going on but after a while all the memories load into my head. Everything is clear; Ula married Dave; there is a wedding ring on her/mine left hand to prove it. Dave is gone, he left in the middle of the night after he beat her up, he is with his lover now. There is opened bottle of vodka on the desk by the window; the floor is covered in his clothes and the broken glass. A hole in the wall on my/her side of the bed is from the metal CD holder he threw at her, the holder is now on the floor amongst the clothes. Most of the CDs had fallen out of their covers and are now spread across the room, from time to time one of them winks at me in pink, blue or green. The situation is hopeless, the humiliation reached the zenith. I close my eyes in hope that when I’ll open them again there will be familiar crack on the ceiling. No. It doesn’t happen. I look through the bedside cabinet, there are two full boxes of paracetamol; twenty four tablets in total. The moment of hesitation; maybe it is not worth it?

It’s the middle of the summer. We’re in the car; Urszula-me and Nick. The wind comes in through the open windows of Mini Cooper and messes our hair up, ‘Hello, I love you’ by The Doors blasts from the car speakers. Nick has long, curly hair, wide chest and strong arms; he turns to me and smiles, I melt under that smile. Let me jump in your game, he sings along with the song. The woods and hills of Sussex are our paradise; Nick’s bedroom filled with dreams, ideals of youth and the air heavy from love is our kingdom. Wrapped around each other we are examining every millimetre of our bodies. One day Nick asks if sometimes I get the feeling as if the universe was pointing its huge finger at me and laughed. I say no. Many months later I realise that is exactly how I feel. Nick understands, he is a soul mate; loves with perfect love. This is happiness. This happiness terrifies; there is too much of it, it’s too sudden, too heavy. Solitude always wins, not even Nick has a chance against it.

With Kasia comes pleasure. We are friends; I chose Kasia the same way she chose me. It is a friendship from the first sight. We are inseparable, wild and provoking. Men fight for us, they get down to their knees; and we give them hope just so we can take it away in the end. The memory of her small breasts and scar on the hip makes me shake with desire; her long, black hair and slightly mad laughter posessed me completely. The skin soaked in nicotine and bitten fingernails are a promise of an adventure.

The day comes when I become obsolete. It hurts. I try to understand, I wait for a sign but it never arrives. Slowly I retreat into obscurity.

Along comes time of Mateusz. He is calm, patient and full of goodness. This time it is me who gives in. With him starts everyday life, at first it is blissful, then it becomes a routine and finally the solitude creeps in and stays with me for good. Acquaintances come and go, Mateusz stays. Every day after dinner we drink wine and watch the news. Out of the blue the baby comes along, it turns out that I wanted it. The baby disappears as quickly as it came into our lives. Mateusz cries, too.

We buy the house. He escapes into the garage, me – to the garden, reading and housework. The days become longer and there is less sense in each new morning we encounter. Despite the years passing by the new dawn never arrives. We no longer talk to each other; all the important things had been said; the rest is unimportant. Any physical contact is accidental and creates embarrassment. My face is covered in wrinkles, I limp on my left leg and I have to use walking stick to get around. My breasts are floppy, the fat gathers away in my thighs and waist; I don’t even remember when the last time I shaved my legs was. Mateusz grows big belly; thick fur like coat of hair covers his entire body; it even gets into his ears and nose.

Mateusz leaves in his sleep. The doctor says it was his heart but I think that he had enough of life. I’m not afraid of solitude, it was always here, now it only takes over from his material presence. After Mateusz is gone I am beginning to miss him. I look for him in the smell of unwashed shirts and his shower gel that was left behind. I realise that I loved him all those years.

This year’s winter is exceptionally long. I read a lot, look through the old photos and cry even more. I’m no longer ashamed of crying. I know that the spring will come after winter and after spring the summer will inevitably follow. I’m afraid of it, but even more I await it. This will be the summer of the hardest, so far, farewell. We will miss each other but – surely – we won’t be lonely. I will join Mateusz and at last will love him the way that he deserves. The Solitude will surely find another friend with whom she’ll experience equally beautiful moments.

Tomorrow is third of July. Will you be with me? I ask. I will, the way I always was, she replies.

***

It’s gone midday. Urszula went to bed, on the left side of her bed sat Solitude. Give me your hand, she smiled at Urszula. Holding her best friend’s hand Urszula closed her eyes. She slept for three days and three nights. On Saturday at six in the morning she sighted deeply, smiled and joined Mateusz.