Read The Code War for Free Online Page B

the
street?'
    'Yes.'
    The beggar sighed as if experiencing
pain.
    'I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked. I'll
go.' But before Nancy could walk away the beggar stopped her.
    'No. No matter. I tell you.' He
pushed himself to his feet, holding the sandwich bag in his left
hand, too polite to open it while talking.
    'Tadeusz,' he introduced himself,
bowing slightly. 'Tadeusz Jacek. Third Carpathian Division.
Conquerors of Monte Cassino. Only we Poles were stupid enough to
keep going. We lost so many. We won. But we lost. Then after the
war, we came here. I had a job. But then I lost heart. I
became…
    'Depressed?'
    'Yes. That is it. Depression, they
say it. And I had no-one. No-one to care for me. And I cannot go
home. To my village. All contact lost. No way back for me now. I
miss Poland. My family. Now my home is here. The street. Many
English people very kind.'
    Nancy fished in her handbag. 'No, no
need,' urged Tadeusz, trying to stop her. But Nancy found a £1 note
and pressed it into his hand.
    'Thank you,' she said, her eyes
rapidly moistening. She stared into his face for a long moment and
then turned and walked briskly away.
     
    As she departed through the
crowds, Tadeusz followed her with his eyes. For a moment he thought
he saw a dark figure wearing a curved blade at its side walking
behind her. Very close behind her. He blinked and wiped his eye.
The figure was gone. That damn war, he said to himself. It spared
my body but not my mind. I'm seeing things that don't
exist.
    He looked down at the sandwich bag
between his hands. Then he sat down on the pavement again and began
to open it carefully.
     
    'So tell me,
Nance, ' said Mel, when Nancy had
returned. 'How is your boyfriend situation?' It was still lunchtime
and Mel was in gossipy mood.
    'What do you mean?' Nancy took
another bite of sandwich and dabbed the corner of her mouth with a
paper serviette.
    'You know what I mean. Have you got a
boyfriend or not?'
    Nancy smiled. 'Not really. No-one
special anyway.'
    'How come? You're not that bad
looking. On a good day.'
    'Oh thanks.' Nancy took a drink of coke. 'Anyway, I've had boyfriends.
There's just no-one about at the moment.'
    'So come on then, what's your
type? What kind of guy do you like bringing you breakfast in bed?'
Mel was turned sideways towards Nancy with her elbow on her desk
and a hand cupped around her cheek.
    'Oh, just the usual, I suppose. Someone
nice. Someone I can rely on.'
    'That doesn't sound very romantic.'
    'Oh, I don't know. I think reliable is
romantic.'
    'Reliable is boring. Reliable is,
well..next thing you've got a family. Two point four kids and a
mortgage.'
    A faraway look came into Nancy's
eyes. 'I didn't have much of a family you
see. If I could, I'd have a family first. Mum and dad and brothers
and so on. Love to have a brother. And then a boyfriend. In that
order.'
    She wiped her hands and rolled her
serviette in a ball.
    'Brothers aren't that special,' said
Mel, determined to be helpful. 'I've got a brother. You can have
him. He's rubbish.'
    'Oh thanks a lot.' And Nancy threw her
serviette at Mel who ducked and laughed and flicked her legs under
the table.
    The shop door opened. It was two of
Mel's customers and she rose to greet them.
    Nancy returned to her thoughts. A holiday brochure in the rack on
the wall caught her attention. Israel. As she stared at it her face
became serious again. She thought of Tadeusz Jacek who had lost
contact with his family in Poland. She reached for the phone. The
booking form on the desk in front of her surrendered Martin's
details and she dialled his home number. Beside her, Mel was
reaching for brochures of Greek villas while talking to her
customers about island-hopping.
    A woman’s voice answered.
    ‘ Hello, can I speak
to Martin, please. It’s Nancy from the travel agents in Ealing,’
Nancy announced.
    ‘ Martin,’ shouted the
woman at the top of her voice in the commanding way that only a
mother would summon a teenager. 'Phone'.
    Nancy