Spring was in full bloom. Varsovians changed their clothes for these of lighter materials and now they were flashing their pale skin, craving sun and gentle warm breeze of the city’s air. Anton popped up now and again with bags of fruit, which he bought at a stall near his place, so Robert and Lena were able to consume them with pleasure and without limits. Edward occasionally slept in the room which was previously used as a storage. Lena prepared for him the mattress, which was before in her own room. Robert brought a wardrobe from the corridor and a table, and in this modest surrounding, Edward could from time to time hide from the heat. So did Kit-Kat.
Lena finally started writing her final thesis and she was poked fun at by everybody: Anton, who finished his own within a week and graduated with flying colors, and couldn’t understand why she was suffering so much in the process of intellectual effort; Edward, who said that higher education was worthless and wouldn’t rescue her from the street, and Robert, who knew nothing of English language, but was kind to remind her:
‘Lena, remember, if you do something in life, try to do it well.’
It was a pleasant time for everybody except for Lena, but she survived, graduated and didn’t want to have anything in common with the University, be it students, professors or simply attending the lectures.
They were having a celebratory dinner, to which even Jakub Krakowski was invited. There was a sadness in his eyes every time someone mentioned Barbara’s case, but he tried to hide it with interesting anecdotes from his life. Lena bought a cake in Blikle (a renowned confectionery and bakery in Warsaw), Robert ordered some takeaway food, Anton bought wines and Edward brought bottles of Belgian beer which he bought on the way. He chose the most expensive flavors, simply because he could afford them.
‘What is this philology?’, Robert asked out of the blue, full after dinner, sipping wine from his glass.
‘It’s the study of languages. You know, literary criticism, history, linguistics.’, Anton explained since Lena didn’t want to hear anything about it.
‘The Philologist. That is fine by me. I was looking for a name.’
‘A name for what?’
‘I have been recently inspired. I thought we could continue this evening activity. We have a budget. There are many unsolved cases. We could broaden our spectrum of interests. We could do some good.’
‘And The Philologist would be the name of a private amateur detective agency? What does it have to do with solving criminal cases?’ Lena was skeptical.
‘Nothing. That’s the point. Officially we could provide linguistic services, language courses, translation. Anton, you work as a translator, right?’
Anton nodded, consuming the celebratory cake.
‘Edward, you had a company, you could deal with accounting, right?’
Edward was actually surprised that he was offered a job.
‘Yes, years ago. But I went bankrupt...’
Robert smiled.
‘You can learn from your mistakes. You will manage. Lena, you still teach English and I think you will stick to it for some time. I’m not planning to give up my job as a policeman.’
‘But The Philologist?’
‘The Philologist will have as much in common with philology as Franz Kafka had with the porn industry. But it’s a name. Just as good as any other.’
They would all laugh at Robert or criticize his idea. But Robert didn’t laugh, he consumed another piece of celebratory cake, deep in his thoughts reaching way beyond their common meal and everyone could sense that he was serious. Kit-Kat was playing with a wine cork. It was a name. As good as any other.
End of part 1
