No Saints or Angels

I feel silly saying yes like a little girl, but I'm not able to disown my young man, so I say, 'But I'm over forty-five, Mum!'

'So am I,' my mother declares, 'and I have been for a long time.'

'But you've had Dad.' I try to remember the time when Mum was forty-five. I was twenty-three. I had two siblings, one of whom was unknown to us: Mum, my sister and me. I was at university, lounging around in pubs, occasionally getting drunk and not caring a damn about home. I can't picture what Mum looked like then. I can't imagine her falling in love with someone, even if Dad hadn't been there. Forty-five, I used to think in those days, was the age when you wake up in the morning and you can already hear the death knell in the distance.

'How's Jana,' I ask, in order to change the subject.

'She's asleep. But she seems odd to me,' Mum says, accepting the new topic. 'Is she ill?'

'Did she complain of anything?'

'No, not at all.'

'So why do you think she might be ill?'

'She told me she was cold,' my mother said. 'She put on a sweater and huddled as if she had a fever. That's not normal in this heat, is it?'

'Did you ask her why she felt cold?'

'She just said, I'm cold. She sat in the armchair and stared in front of her. As if she could see someone who wasn't there. She even mumbled something to herself. Maybe she's exhausted.'

'What from, for heaven's sake?'

'They make awful demands on them now at school. I heard about it on the radio.'

'They may well make demands but that doesn't bother her in the least.'

'It's just as well it'll be the holidays soon,' Mum says, harping on the same note, 'and she'll get a bit of rest. You both need some rest.'

Yes, it will be the holidays. I've saved up for them. We'll go to the seaside. I've already booked a holiday in Croatia. I'll take my little girl a long way from here. I'll take her across the sea to a desert island where no dealer will find her, and if one did find us I'd throttle him and throw him in the sea, even if it meant a life sentence.

3

I searched the entire flat but I couldn't find my jewellery anywhere. For a week now I've checked my purse morning and evening. This morning I discovered that three hundred crowns had disappeared from it. Overnight.

Jana comes home only slightly late. She tosses her bag under the coat hanger and is making her way to her bedroom to kick up her usual racket. 'Jana!' My tone of voice arouses her vigilance. 'Yes, Mum?'

'I need to talk to you seriously.'

'But you always talk to me seriously.'

'Stop playing the fool. You play truant. .'

'But we had that out ages ago. I've stopped playing truant now.'

'And you steal.'

There is a moment of consternation and then she says, 'That's not true.'

'It is true and you know it.'

'I've never stolen anything from anyone.'

'I don't know about anyone else, but from me you have. You seem to think what's mine is yours.'

'I don't think anything of the sort.'

'And what about my jewellery?'

'I don't know what you're talking about. I expect you mislaid it somewhere.'

'Jana, you know full well what happened to them.'

'Your jewellery is no concern of mine, or any fucking jewellery,' she shouts. She acts so hurt, that I almost waver.

'Last night three hundred crowns disappeared from my purse.'

'I didn't take them.'

'So can you tell me who did, then?'

'You lost them somewhere. Your money's no concern of mine.'

'You forgot to say, your fucking money. It's no concern of yours, you just take it.'

'That's not true!'

'And you lie into the bargain.'

'That's not true!'

'It's obvious to me what you need the money for.'

'I didn't take any money.'

'So I'll take you to the drop-in clinic to have them do a blood test and get some advice about what to do with you.'

'I'm not going to any clinic.'

'You'll go with me where I tell you.'

'I won't.'

'Jana, you don't realize what you're doing. Once you get into it, you'll never get out of it and you'll ruin your life. For good.'

'I haven't got into anything.'

'So what did you need the money for?'

'I didn't take any money. Or anything else.'

'I already know you stole from me. I'll have to find out about the rest.'

'I'm not going anywhere.'

'And you really think I'll just sit back and watch you ruin yourself?'

'You ruin yourself too.'

'Jana, I won't put up with that sort of impudence.'

'Dad always used to say. .'

'I don't want to hear a single word about your father.'

'I'm not going anywhere with you.'

'So I'll have you taken there.'

'I'll run away instead.' Suddenly she starts to yell hysterically: 'You're vile. You play the cop with me. You phone the fucking school to find out whether I've bunked off. Now you accuse me of taking money. And you're always telling me what I ought to be like and what'll happen if I'm not. It's my life, not yours. You've fucked yours up anyway, so what's mine got to do with you?'

My hackles rise and I go to strike her even though she's already bigger and stronger than I am. But at that moment my knees give way and my hand, which remains firm even when I'm wrestling with a crooked root during tooth extraction, starts to shake like a leaf.

My daughter takes advantage of my momentary weakness, slips past me and a moment later the front door bangs.

I turn and run after her. I just manage to catch sight of her as she disappears round the corner of our street. I know I won't catch up with her, but I keep on running. I tear along the street with cars rushing by me, past people I don't know, who don't know me and don't care that I'm in distress, who don't care that I exist.

But I do exist. And I'm all alone. There's no one I can turn to for advice or help. If I ran to that boy who tells me over and over again that he loves me and plays at preventing the destruction of Castle Sion, he'd most likely be scared that I'm trying to burden him with something that's none of his business. He didn't father the child, and the person who did is the one who'll help me least of all.

I could try calling my pal Lucie; she'd most likely try to cheer me up somehow. But I don't need cheering up, I need to take action.

Tomorrow morning I'll cancel the surgery and take Jana to the drop-in clinic.

That's if she comes home this evening and if I manage to drag her there.

4

My darling daughter came home after the television news. She was in her room with the door locked before I had a chance to say anything. The next morning she emerged and announced curtly that she was going to school. I could fight with her but I'd probably lose. Anyway I can't decide whether or not to drag her to the addiction advice clinic. There is no point in her meeting real drug addicts and coming to the conclusion that compared to them she is as pure as the driven snow. I ought to seek some advice first.

There's only one person I know who might advise me. I didn't talk to him for twenty years and when we happened to meet in that restaurant the other day I wasn't particularly nice to him.

I don't relish the thought of talking to him, but I call him from the surgery none the less.

Surprisingly enough, I get straight through and over the phone it sounds as if he'd be pleased to meet me; he'll readily see me in his office at the Ministry of Health if I like.

It's only a short distance from home to the ministry, but like most of my colleagues I loathe that particular institution and have no yearning to step inside it, so I agree to meet in a pub.