But it was true that Piotr's Matiz had only recently driven away from the hotel. Probably Waldek and Stefan Mlotkowiak saw it on the way and while the son did not make up any story, the sensation-hungry father decided something else.
Although Stefan could also make up something, judging by his blurred face and beet parched from morning. Maybe he also imagined something, only he did not want to say anything. Or he was too ashamed.
Hubert felt something unpleasant. He didn't like the direction the rumor spread by Waldek was going. He decided, as much as possible, to nip it in the bud.
“E, probably a coincidence. If I were you, I would not talk such things. First you have to check the facts. Facts. You'll get a story, the girls will spread it, there'll be a scandal, and then it'll turn out to be just a misunderstanding and who'll get the blame? The women? No way. Everything will be on you, that you saw something drunk. What, you didn't drink anything before you left the site?”
“Mr. foreman, half a liter on three?!” He showed a holy indignation. “We didn't even feel it.”
“You're right, you're right” Hubert admitted. He was perfectly aware of the alcoholic potential that any of the people from the construction site could pour into himself. “Did you lock the gate properly? I wouldn't want any surprises.”
“Sure it's good. Am I right, kiddo?”
Stefan nodded.
Several more men joined them along the way. The construction started first thing in the morning, to gain as much as possible from the day. At first, the workers were not eager, but that soon changed, because the work, although hard, was well paid and the conditions were good. Hubert was pleased to note that the elder Młotkowiak did not tell the others about what he had seen during the night. The foreman's disapproval worked.
Work flowed at a good rhythm. The saws were churning and the hammers were tapping. Everyone knew that if they managed to finish before the deadline, they would get a bonus, so they cared about the result. Around the time of the second breakfast, however, someone dropped the word that the hotel had a guest.
“I saw him in the window of one of the rooms” one of the construction workers informed his colleagues. “A young blond man in a crumpled white shirt.”
“It's the same one", said Wladek Młotkowiak but he fell silent as soon as he saw the disapproval in the foreman's eyes.
“Who's ‘the same one’?” one of the men wondered.
“Well... He came in the evening. I don't know who.”
“But the hotel isn't working yet, is it?”
In fact, the hotel could not receive guests yet, because it was still in the process of arranging all the formalities. So officially no one could rent a room there. This did not mean that the quarters were not habitable. Some of them were already properly furnished and equipped. The whole building had electricity, water and sewage system. But if they had received a guest before the hotel opened, the owners would have had a big problem.
“It's none of our business” Hubert commented, cutting off further conversation. At least the loud ones. He was almost sure that behind his back people would speak their minds.
Hubert Raymund wasn't sure if he should be in any way interested in the matter that others on the construction site were living. He expected that one way or another some rumor would be blown and someone would get in trouble. Certainly not him, and since he was still a stranger here and did not intend to put down roots here, local affairs should remain in local hands.
By early afternoon, however, the comments got louder. Someone saw that Piotr's car had pulled up in front of the hotel and he himself had disappeared inside. For several hours people almost kept their eyes on the main building driving Hubert to passion. He'd had enough. A construction site was no gossipy gathering and such a lack of focus could lead to an accident. He told the builders off and said that if he ever caught anyone behaving like that again, they would be fired.
It worked. However, the mood had clearly deteriorated, so he decided to end the day early. However, he stayed behind to check the quality of the work. He was just going home when Piotr came out of the hotel. He looked worried and deep in thought, which conflicted with his always cheerful image. He was so immersed in his own world that he only noticed Raymund when he almost bumped into him.
“Oh, hey” he greeted by adopting a more cheerful tone.
“You should be careful.”
“I'm sorry, I was thinking.”
“That's not what I'm talking about.”
“No?”
“Your friend from the hotel. The whole construction site is buzzing with rumors. You know, you spent the night together...”
Piotr didn't immediately make the connection between Hubert's words and what he was talking about. But when the meaning of the gossip reached him, he pulled down his eyebrows and took on an angry expression, which did not suit him very well.
“I don't care what people say” he growled. If not gossip, then something else, however battered him. He was clearly moved. “I'm sorry.”
Hubert looked at him getting the impression that the usually calm and cheerful Piotr was in some serious trouble, which apparently involved an unofficial guest of the hotel. He hesitated for a moment, then finally proposed:
“Do you want to talk? We're both strangers here, so maybe it will be easier for you...”
“Actually...”
Piotr glanced towards the hotel, then looked around uncertainly, as if trying to decide on something. Hubert Raymund was already about to give him some word of encouragement, but Piotr added:
“I would have a request of you. If you don't mind.”
“Sure. Why don't we talk over coffee? Or maybe over a beer?”
“Coffee's fine, thanks.”
They went to the other side of the lake, to the cottage that Hubert occupied. At Piotr's request they sat on the terrace so that they could see the nearby hotel. Pioetr's eyes were constantly drawn in that direction, as if he were afraid to take his eyes off that building. Or from the man who was inside.
The evening was getting chilly, as it often did this time of year, but it was pleasant enough that not even the cutting mosquitoes bothered them.
“I don't really know where to start, said Piotr. “These are very private matters, not mine, but...”
“His?” Hubert guessed.
Piotr nodded.
“That's Adam, my uncle's son. We've been close since childhood. We practically grew up together. Adam has a... difficult past and unfortunately lately... he hasn't had it easy either.”
So he was Piotr's cousin! That would explain why the two men were able to spend the night together regardless of potential gossip. Together as in one hotel room, because what exactly they were doing in it was entirely their business.
Hubert cursed in his mind his employees who saw in this situation the most scandalous solution, not the simplest one. After all, there was such a thing as friendship and family and to find something indecent in the fact that two men spend time with each other behind closed doors was simply sick.
Even more so when talking about such a decent guy as Piotr.
“As a teenager, Adam had faced many difficulties," he continued. “People were not good to him. Adam was always a bit more sensitive than others, he felt more, deeper, had a huge amount of empathy and that made him a freak in the eyes of others.”
“I can guess. The world is not a place where sensitivity is at a premium. Was he an easy target?”
“No, his classmates didn't bully him, they just didn't understand him. So Adam was lonely and I guess I was his best friend, but I went to seminary....”
Hubert took a sip of coffee. The sensitive period of adolescence was very important. Parents often forget how much is going on in a teenager's head and heart at that time and talk about the rebellion of adolescence. But every such rebellion has its reasons and its consequences. His adolescence was also... interesting. He, however, had many friends and was not as sensitive as Piotr’s cousin, for whom the departure of his only friend for college must have been a sad experience.
“You know, to this day some part of me regrets, that's I left then. No, I don't regret choosing to serve God, but if I had gone to college a year later....”
“Something happened to Adam then?” Hubert guessed.
“I was at the seminary minding my own business when I found out that Adam had tried to commit suicide and... why. I was... in shock. Adam had always been sensitive, but had no depressive tendencies. However, once I learned the reason, everything became clear.”
“What was it?”
“Homosexuality. Adam had fallen in love with a boy.”