The next day Katrina brought him trousers and a shirt. “They belonged to my brother Piotr. I didn’t have the heart to give the clothes away, hoping he would one day come back to wear them.” She left him to put them on and then laughed when he entered the kitchen.
“Your brother must be a big and muscular man,” he said, pointing at the oversized trousers that hung from his hips.
“He is.” She giggled and rushed away to come back with suspenders. “Here. Use these.” She helped him fasten them on the trousers and he leaned – just a bit – into her touch. With every passing minute he grew fonder of this wonderful woman, and he sought out every opportunity to be near her, to touch her. Nothing inappropriate, of course. She wasn’t that type of girl and he was sure she’d slap him in the face if he
