the cruel profile of the Polish eagle above outstretched wings.
‘Haven’t seen one of these in a while,’ said Janusz.
Wojtek shrugged, failing to take the conversational bait, and took a sip of his tea – no biscuits today – spilling a little down his chin.
Janusz sneaked a look at him out of the corner of his eye. The papers were full of scandals about the maltreatment of old people in residential homes – stories that filled him with a vision-darkening rage. What kind of skurwysyn would harm a helpless old person? St Francis’s seemed a happy enough place on the surface, but he knew that wherever the strong held sway over the weak, there was the ever-present risk of abuse. What was it somebody once said? Man makes evil like a bee makes honey.
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