Here she’d be putting plates down on the tables, but her
eyes would be fixed on the door. I’m telling you, when you
ate you could virtually feel that torment of hers in the
spoons and forks and knives.
Suddenly he’d appear. We’d be bent over our food, no one
was looking at the door, but everyone would know from her
reaction that he had come in. Right away she’d perk up,
smile. Like she’d come back to life. Her braid would swing.
Her eyes would sparkle. She’d almost be dancing among the
tables. You had the impression she was all set to tear the
braid off her head, put it in a vase and stand it on the table
in front of him to make his meal more enjoyable.
And all that was only what you could see in the cafeteria.
You’d often meet them walking along, their fingers
interlocked. Or he’d have his arm around her, and she’d be
pressing against him. When someone nodded to say hello,
he’d nod back for both of them, because she wouldn’t see. I
have to admit he had good manners. He didn’t put on airs.
Whenever he needed my help as an electrician, or someone
else’s, he’d always wait till you finished what you were
doing, then ask politely. He knew how to make people like
him. And honestly, we even did like him.
Her, on the other hand, she seemed to be getting more and
more impatient. She’d clear up in the cafeteria, but for
example in the kitchen she wouldn’t want to wash the
dishes because she was in a hurry. Then later you’d see her