Chapter 5
Chapter Five
A nna’s phone rang as she boarded the tram on her way home at the end of her first week. The days had flown by, there was so much to learn and it was all so interesting, but the evenings, on her own in her bedroom watching Netflix, had dragged. She and Leo had avoided each other since dinner on Wednesday.
Finding a seat quickly, she answered to hear Ji?í’s voice.
‘Anna, I have some good news. We have found you a new apartment.’
‘Oh, that’s wonderful.’ Anna sat a little straighter in her seat.
‘It’s in Praha 14.’ His tone didn’t sound celebratory in any way. She heard him suck in a breath and knew he was about to deliver less welcome news.
‘And is that bad? I’m guessing it will be much further out.’
‘It’s not bad, you would have a flat to yourself, but, yes, it would be further to travel every day, but it is on the metro. I must be honest with you. It has been empty for a while and I haven’t been able to view it. I can’t guarantee what it will be like.’
Given she’d already turned down one very nice flat, she was hardly in a position to complain.
‘I’m sure it will be fine.’
‘We have a limited budget,’ he said with a note of apology. ‘So we have to…’ He trailed off.
‘No, no I completely understand.’ Anna felt bad enough that she was being difficult. If Ji?í and his colleagues knew the cosmic sod’s-lawness of the situation, they would realise that she wasn’t being awkward. ‘That is great news. It’s very good of you to find me somewhere new and I really appreciate it. Thank you. When can I move in?’
‘Soon,’ said Ji?í, his voice bright as if he knew this might be a problem but wasn’t going to acknowledge it.
‘When?’ she asked. ‘Soon’ was far too vague. She couldn’t keep hiding from Leo in the flat.
‘I’m not sure yet. As soon as I can get the keys – but I’m not sure when that will be.’
Anna wrinkled her nose, knowing she ought to be grateful. It wasn’t Ji?í’s fault she was in this situation and she didn’t want anyone at the Sdílená Kultura to know what had caused this desperation to move. It would look so unprofessional. She was banking on what she learned on this placement to persuade her uncle to let her brew her own beer, and if she could win the equipment, that would be the icing on the cake. That was the main prize for her, although showcasing her beer in Prague would be a coup. After that, how could her uncle say no?
After finishing the call with Ji?í, she immediately texted Steve to let him know.
Good news. The organisers have found me a new apartment, so I don’t have to share.
Gr8. Didn’t like that Lennard bloke at all.
Fingers crossed it’s soon. She thought it best to temper expectations otherwise he might keep asking and it didn’t sound like Ji?í was that confident about the timeframe.
Give me a call tonight, after rugby training.
She sent him a thumbs-up and a kiss, wondering if he missed her. There’d been so much to think about here, she hadn’t really given him much thought, but they were grown-ups in a mature relationship. At least she could guarantee that after a couple of pints in the pub he’d leave alone, unlike her uncle, who needed female attention as much as he needed oxygen.
She let out a breath that whistled through her teeth. Now was not the time to dwell on her aunt and uncle’s battlefield of a marriage. It only made her wish she’d known her own parents better.
Steve didn’t respond to that, so she put her phone away and leaned back in her seat, feeling the pleasant buzz of exhaustion. It might have been a long day but she’d relished every moment of it. Despite her tiredness, excitement predominated as well as a thrill at how much she was learning from Jakub and his very small team. It really was a huge honour to be working in the ?ilhov brewery with someone like him, who lived and breathed beer. He’d never married and the brewery and his employees were his family.
She half laughed to herself. It was all so different from the Talbot family brewery, now run by her uncle and her male cousins. They had no passion for brewing and left everything to managers and a series of head brewers, which she’d always found difficult to understand. When her father had been the head brewer, things had been very different. After he died, his assistant, grumpy, surly Ronnie, who had had a streak of loyalty to her dad a mile wide, had taken over. During the summer holidays, although she was a girl, he had taken her under his wing, and before he retired, he had taught her as much as he could, believing that one day she’d be involved. After him there been several head brewers, none of whom had been invested in the business, using it instead as a stepping stone to other things. Uncle Henry couldn’t see that that was part of the problem. They brewed mediocre beer because no one cared anymore. And that was why she was here: to learn even more so that she could make her mark. Unfortunately, with only seven per cent of the company shares, she didn’t hold any power.
Relaxing, she watched the city slide by through the window, admiring the view of the stately buildings lining the riverside as they crossed over the Vltava, and comparing her journey favourably with the tedious bus journeys home in London in rush-hour traffic.
It seemed that her journey was to be book-ended by phone calls, because her phone rang as she was disembarking the tram,.
She was pleased to see it was Rebecca, her cousin, calling. They were close in age, and as the females in the family, had banded together, even though Becs, like the rest of the family, was sports mad. For Anna she was almost like a sister.
‘Hey, Anna.’
‘Hi, Becs.’
‘How are you doing? Steve was useless when I asked what your place is like.’
‘It’s really nice. Lots of wood and sloping ceilings. Plenty of character.’
‘And you’ve got a dodgy flatmate, apparently.’
‘He’s all right,’ said Anna, careful with her words.
‘Steve says he’s a cocky git who thinks he’s God’s gift to the ladies. Don’t tell me he’s another one like my dad,’ she said with a groan. ‘I think it’s a bit of a cheek, putting you with a complete stranger. He could be a serial killer for all you know.’ While it was tempting to giggle at that one, Anna held her breath, praying that Steve hadn’t said anything specific. Leo was not that uncommon a name, but the mere mention of it might trigger an unwelcome tirade. She wondered how happy her family would be to hear that Leo was not at all a complete stranger.
‘Don’t put up with any crap, will you? Although you know Steve will sort him out for you, if you need him to.’
‘Actually I’ve asked the organisers for a place of my own.’
‘Oh, that’s good,’ said Becs. ‘So what’s Prague like?’
‘Do you know, I haven’t had chance to see much of it,’ she said before adding with a quick laugh, ‘apart from The Spitfire Butterflies .’
‘The what?’
Anna explained about the bright-purple and blue-metal art with the body of a Spitfire plane and moving butterfly wings.
‘Quirky. Anything else?’ asked Becs.
‘Not yet,’ she replied with a touch of regret, her attention caught by a row of beautiful nineteenth-century buildings with ornate stone scrolling around the windows. ‘What I have seen is beautiful, but I’m waiting ’til Steve comes out and then I thought we’d do some touristy things together. I’m going to book a boat tour and some other stuff.’
‘Lovely. I know he’s really missing you.’
‘Is he?’ asked Anna deliberately injecting her voice with a laugh.
‘Well, the rugby season is about to start, so at least you know he’s occupied. But the reason I rang you, as well as to find out how you’re getting on, is to let you know the good news. The company dividends were decided at the board meeting and we’re getting one this year! You’ll be getting a payout very soon, nice enough. Although there’ll be a bit of a delay because Peter Jones dropped down dead.’
‘No!’ Anna clutched the phone. The poor man had only been in his fifties.
‘Yes, it’s very sad. We’ve had to get new accountants, which Dad is in a right old tizz about. Honestly, he’s biting everyone’s head off every five minutes. He’s a nightmare.’
Anna raised her eyebrows but refrained from saying anything. Her uncle was probably more bothered about not receiving personal attention from Peter’s very attractive assistant, Annabel, with whom he lunched rather frequently.
‘Thanks for letting me know.’ This year’s meagre payment would be tucked away ready for when she broached setting up her own brewery line within the Talbot brewery to make a Czech-style craft beer.
‘Mum sends her love.’
‘How is she?’
Becs gave an audible sigh down the line. ‘Not happy. Dad’s got himself a new friend. ’
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. I don’t know why she puts up with it.’
‘Hopefully it won’t last long.’
‘They never do,’ said Becs, resignation strong in her voice.
‘Give her my love. And to you.’
‘Will do. Thanks, Anna.’
‘You know where I am if you need to talk.’
Becs snorted with a mirthless laugh. ‘Thanks, honey. I think we’ve said it all a million times, but I appreciate it. I’d better go. Take care, speak soon.’
Anna put her phone away, wishing there was more she could do for her cousin. Her aunt and uncle’s marriage was a complete mystery, revolving around the constant cycle of Uncle Henry developing a flirtation with some woman, Aunt Hazel getting wind and furiously seeking the other woman out, putting the fear of God into her and seeing her off.
Anna thought of her own parents, who’d been the opposite and – what she now realised must be very rare – tactile with each other, communicative and open in their expressions of love. They’d been good friends, a team, whereas she thought of her aunt and uncle as individual members of the family team, often in competition with each other.
Anna saw that her stop was coming up and left the tram to walk to the apartment in the dying warmth of the day. As she mounted the first flight of steps in the apartment block, Michaela poked her head out of her front door.
‘Hi, Anna. How was your first week?’ Michaela’s genuine interest perked her up, and, thinking of Jakub at the brewery and how he reminded her of Ronnie, she immediately smiled. ‘It was good. Really good.’
‘That’s great. Would you like to come to the pub with us? We can celebrate the end of the week with beer and food. We have big news, too.’ Her elfin face glowed as if she wanted to burst with it.
Anna had spent the last couple of nights in her room and she really rather liked Michaela, so she nodded enthusiastically. ‘That would be lovely, thank you.’
‘Great. Come down at seven.’
With that she withdrew behind the door and Anna heard her gaily telling Jan something in rapid Czech before it shut. Anna paused for a moment, reflecting that Prague must be rubbing off on her; it was rare for her to accept a spontaneous invitation like that. Or maybe it was that she was sick of her bedroom walls and keeping out of Leo’s way. That frisson over the spaghetti bolognese had unsettled her.
* * *
When Leo bounced into the apartment half an hour later clutching a couple of bottles of pale golden beer, she’d showered and changed and was sitting on the roof terrace with her phone, having finished a FaceTime call with Steve, who was looking forward to the river tour she’d promised to book.
‘Look what they gave me,’ he crowed through the open doorway. ‘Homework.’ He held up a couple of bottles of beer in one hand. ‘Want to try some?’
Anna, with plans for the evening, felt more relaxed, and she laughed at his gleeful expression, even though she didn’t want to. It was impossible to be around Leo and not succumb to his joie de vivre.
‘Why not?’ she replied with a tentative smile, not sure how to act around him. He seemed to have forgotten their last argument. And, after all, this was why she was in the Czech Republic, to learn as much as she could about Czech beer. She’d tell him later that Ji?í had found her a new place.
‘I’ll get some glasses,’ he called, having already disappeared from view, and a minute later he stepped out onto the roof, beaming.
‘Isn’t this great?’ he said. ‘What a view to come home to with a beer. Life’s good. How was your day?’ He slid the bottle-opener keyring from his pocket. ‘I had an amazing week but tell me about yours. What did you do? Was it awesome? Are you loving it?’ Leo’s questions spilled out like champagne overflowing from a flute.
She stared at him for a minute, wondering if he was taking the piss. They hadn’t spoken a word for two days. A little bud of warmth lit up inside her. Typical Leo. Slow to anger, quick and generous to forgive. It would be churlish in the extreme to be rude to him, let alone resist this effervescent enthusiasm.
‘Yes, it was awesome, and yes, I’m going to love it,’ she said with a laugh. His interest, in comparison to her cousin Becs’s utter disinterest, was a boost and, like a flower warmed by the sun, she couldn’t help but open up.
‘Let’s try these bad boys,’ said Leo, flipping off the tops. ‘And then you can tell me all about it. The Crystal brewery is so cool. And Karel has some great ideas. He’s really experimental and not afraid of trying anything new.’
Anna laughed again. ‘Possibly the opposite of my day then. Jakub is a third-generation beer maker and he likes – no, loves – the tradition of it all.’
Leo, who’d poured the beers, lifted his glass. She took hers and chinked it against his.
‘Cheers.’
‘ Na zdraví ,’ said Anna.
‘Ah, yes, well done. When in Prague. Na zdraví. ’
For the next half-hour, they chatted with relative ease about their day, Anna telling Leo all about the old cellars and the huge wooden mash tuns housed in the old stone building of ?ilhov brewery, while Leo told her about the high-tech computerised pipework and stainless-steel finish of the Crystal brewery. Before long they were asking each other questions, fully immersed in the subject of beer, and suddenly it was seven o’clock.
Leo jumped to his feet, almost knocking his chair over. ‘I need to put on a clean T-shirt. Don’t want to go out stinking of beer before I even get to the pub.’
‘Another date?’ Anna tried to sound non-judgemental.
‘Not tonight.’ He smiled at her. ‘Michaela and Jan invited me to the pub. I thought you were coming, too?’
‘Yeah, right. Of course,’ said Anna. Why hadn’t it occurred to her that Leo would be included in the invitation? They’d probably invited him first. Everyone always wanted Leo’s company.
Still moving, he unselfconsciously stripped off his T-shirt, giving her another flash of that lean, muscular body and bringing with it a flush of awareness. Her whole body felt on edge, unsatisfied. What was wrong with her? The sooner she got out of here the better, even though it was such a lovely flat.
When they knocked on Michaela and Jan’s door, five minutes later, the couple were ready and waiting and the four of them descended the stairs in high spirits to walk to the pub, which was only a couple of streets away.
The lively pub was in a cellar, with lots of posters on the walls, and long trestle tables. Michaela and Jan, clearly a popular pair, waved to several people before heading to a table in the corner. No sooner had the four of them sat down than a waiter was at the table ready to take their order.
‘Georg, this is Leo and Anna, they’ve just moved in. They’re English.’
‘ Ahoj ,’ said Georg. ‘What would you like to drink?’
‘Beer,’ said Leo and Anna in unison, catching each other’s eyes and grinning.
‘In Czech Republic, you have to drink beer,’ said Jan. ‘We are the biggest consumers of beer in the world. We drink one-hundred and eighty litres per capita, although according to other reports its only one-hundred and twenty-eight litres. I’m not sure which is right but it is a lot.’
‘We know,’ said Anna. ‘I told you we’re on a placement scheme but the ultimate prize is brewery equipment.’
‘Which I’m going to win,’ said Leo, winking at Anna. ‘And have my beer at the Christmas Beer Festival.’
‘You think so, do you?’ said Anna, lifting her chin, not sure if he was teasing or being over-confident. The competitive Talbot side of her was suddenly fired up, perhaps fuelled by the fact that she really needed to win that equipment. Why did Leo want it?
‘You probably know more about beer than I do,’ said Michaela, unknowingly defusing things. ‘But we can teach you how to order in Czech.’
‘That would be great,’ said Leo. ‘So far everyone has spoken really good English but I think it’s rude if you don’t at least try.’
‘It’s okay. It’s a very difficult language to learn.’
‘How do you ask for two beers, please?’
‘ Dvě piva prosím ,’ said Michaela.
Leo dutifully repeated it and Michaela corrected his pronunciation. Anna, who had a good ear, was able to repeat it perfectly, much to the other woman’s delight.
When the beer arrived, Jan lifted his glass and grinned at Michaela. ‘To the chata. ’
‘To the chata ,’ she replied and then turned to Leo and Anna. ‘Jan’s uncle has gifted us his chata .’
‘To the thingy,’ said Leo, lifting his glass and taking a sip.
‘What’s a chata? ’ asked Anna.
‘No idea,’ said Leo with one of his quick wide smiles, ‘but it sounds like it’s worth drinking to.’
She tried to give him a repressive look but it was impossible when he was grinning like a monkey.
‘It’s a small, country home,’ explained Jan. ‘But not like a house. Ours has water and solar power. But some are huts with nothing. There we have a little plot of land?—’
‘We’re going to grow vegetables,’ Michaela interrupted. ‘And strawberries and raspberries.’
‘It’s near the lake, so we can swim,’ added Jan, beaming.
‘And there’s no internet or computers or mobile signal.’
‘And we have a big fireplace and a firepit.’ Jan nudged her, obvious excitement on his face.
‘And you can have an axe to chop wood,’ said Michaela teasing him.
‘Yes,’ said Jan in a gruff voice showing off his muscles in what Anna imagined must be a lumberjack imitation.
‘And we’re going to renovate the inside and make it ours.’ Michaela clapped her hands. ‘I can’t wait.’
It was lovely to see their bubbling enthusiasm and Anna exchanged a quick look of amusement with Leo.
Michaela caught them and laughed. ‘Sorry. We sound crazy. It’s just that we’ve been wanting a chata of our own for a long time. My family has one but it belongs to my grandparents, it is full of their old, old things – I mean, I love my babi?ka but –’ she wrinkled her nose ‘– not her taste. There are so many of us and not much space. It will be nice for me and Jan to have our own with space for our friends.’ She paused suddenly and said, ‘You must come. It is very typical Czech. Different from living in the city.’
‘Sounds cool, I’d love to,’ said Leo.
It did sound wonderful. Anna had a sudden longing for the countryside. Although Prague seemed to be very green, she’d lived in the country for so long, she missed being outdoors, going on hikes and walking much more.
‘You have to work for your supper,’ said Jan with one of his dry smiles. ‘There will be lots to do. The garden is very overgrown and like Michaela said, inside the house, we have plenty of work to make it more comfortable.’
A touch of envy nudged Anna. How wonderful to put your own stamp on your own home.
As an Instagram home-makeovers addict, she constantly pored over reels, finding new ideas and learning about DIY. She’d done as much as she could in her rented flat but the landlord wasn’t keen on any permanent changes, although she’d managed to put up some shelves, decorate the lounge and, her pièce de résistance , build a window seat in the bay of her bedroom, which the landlord had yet to find out about. Somehow, her attempts to create a cosy home made her feel more connected with her mum, who’d always been painting and renovating furniture, sewing cushions and curtains, reusing old china and filling it with wax and wicks to make candles and picking flowers from the garden to fill vases in the kitchen. Anna felt a touch of sadness as she recalled how happy it made her mother to take time and care to put together their home. According to her aunt, she’d been ‘quite the homemaker,’ although the disparaging way it was said never made it sound like a compliment.
‘What about you, Anna?’ asked Michaela. ‘Would you like to come to the chata ?’
‘Erm … that would be nice but I’m not going to be around for much longer.’
Across the table Leo raised one eyebrow, his face suddenly impassive. He didn’t say anything.
‘You’re leaving!’ Michaela gasped. ‘But you’ve only just arrived. What is wrong?’
‘I’m not leaving Prague but I’m moving to another apartment.’
‘When?’
‘Soon.’
‘Soon?’ barked Leo. ‘And when were you going to mention it to me?’ His stony expression, so at odds with the bright smile seconds before, immediately brought a flood of guilt.
‘But why?’ asked Michaela, looking from Anna to Leo. ‘And you?’ she asked him.
‘Just me,’ said Anna, trying to sound nonchalant.
‘But why?’ asked Michaela again. ‘Your apartment is the best in the block.’
Anna looked at Leo, who once again raised that taunting eyebrow. He had no intention of making this easier for her, even though he knew full well it was the right thing to do. One of them had to go. In fact, if he’d been any sort of gentleman he would have offered. She glared at him.
As if he read her mind, he held up his hands. ‘Your choice.’
‘Hardly,’ she snapped.
‘What, I’m holding a gun to your head? I haven’t asked you to leave. There’s no reason you have to.’
‘For God’s sake, Leo. Stop being so obtuse. Of course I can’t stay.’
Leo shrugged while Michaela looked on, fascinated. Jan, whom she liked the most at that moment, studied the top of his beer.
‘What is the problem?’ asked Michaela, innocently enough. Anna suspected that she hadn’t meant to sound so direct.
Leo leaned back and folded his arms, leaving her to answer.
A burst of rage flashed through her and she wanted to slap the complacent smirk from his bloody face. Under the table, her hands clenched into irate fists to stop her giving in to the urge.
Leo continued to look at her and the gap in conversation stretched as he took a leisurely sip of beer.
Frustrated beyond all bearing, Anna snapped, ‘Because we used to be married.’