The Ultimate Intimacy

'The doctor promised me it will stop when she reaches puberty.'

'You said you had two children of your own and one step-child, Matron. If it's not too bold a question, was your husband divorced?'

'The very idea!' There was a note of amazement or even offence in her voice. 'His wife died when Eva was just a baby.'

'And did you always work in a hospital?'

'Yes. After the Charter they wouldn't let my husband remain in Prague. He was only allowed a little church in the highlands. It took me almost an hour to get to work from there.'

And did you have no option?'

'My husband had a really tiny salary. Admittedly people would make us gifts of food, but I realized the congregation was too small to support us.'

And now you wouldn't need to?'

She shrugs. Then she says, 'No, not any more. My husband got back an apartment house in Vinohrady in the restitution and sold it for a lot of money. But I wouldn't like to be stuck at home.'

And what would you like to do?'

The pastor's wife again shrugs, seemingly unsure of what she would like to do.

'You could find something nice to spend your time on.'

'What do you have in mind?'

'There are so many opportunities nowadays.'

The matron shakes her head and he quickly adds: 'I don't mean having fun, but doing something where you'd be your own boss.'

'I'm hardly going to start a business somewhere. I wouldn't know how, anyway'

'I could easily imagine you managing some trust to assist disabled children. Or lonely grandmothers.'

The pastor's wife ponders his words. She neither says anything, nor protests. Maybe she could make a contribution towards the publication of his poetry. And what plans do you have for your money?'

'I don't concern myself with it. We bought the children new clothes. And my husband bought himself a car. He needs it, since he also has. the charge of a congregation in the country'

'But it must be an interesting feeling to come into wealth all of a sudden.'

'No, I prefer not to think about it.'

He observes this woman. Her hair is already greying, but the skin on her arms is still smooth and her round face is almost free of wrinkles. If she were to dye her hair she would look younger. But it would seem she has no desire to, in the same way she has no desire for money. That is, if it were possible for a woman not to have any desire for money. How much could they have received from the house sale? How much is a lot of money? Money interests Matouš; it would help him lead an independent existence. But he had had nothing to demand back in the restitution, his forebears had been ordinary peasants or workers. One of his grandfathers had been a gamekeeper and he could have asked for his shotgun back if it had actually been his own.

And did returned property also belong equally to the spouse? Probably not — at least not during the life of the recipient. If this good wife were to divorce she'd remain poor, she'd only be rich when that preacher-sermonizer of hers died and returned to the Lord, which shouldn't be long by the look of it. Unless he divorced her first. But pastors probably don't divorce, and certainly not very often. But what about their wives? He hasn't any notion of how pastors' wives behave. Most probably just like any other woman in our part of the world; you can win their favour so long as you find the right way to their hearts. But that was an art he had never mastered.

When the soup is cooked, he mentions that he not only has oriental cookbooks at home but also Chinese and Japanese prints and a collection of interesting objects and some figurines, mostly of the Buddha. 'When you pay me a visit I'll be happy to show them to you.'

The matron remains silent for a moment, and then says, 'I'm sure my husband would find that interesting. He is a very good carver himself. Though not of Buddhas.'

And so, despite using her husbands interest as an excuse, she actually accepts his invitation.

7

Daniel was waiting at the Smíchov bus station to drive Eva home. He had always waited for her like this ever since she was small and would come home from different camps. He had waited for her even when there was no longer any real need for him to do so, and when in fact

it was no longer appropriate. But seeing that he always came to meet her half-brother and half-sister he was afraid his eldest child might feel neglected. Maybe — even though he didn't like to admit it — he wanted to make sure no one else was waiting for her. Also he was worried where she might go if he left her a free choice.

Eva was the very last to appear in the door of the bus. 'You've come to meet me, Daddy?'

'And why wouldn't I?'

'I thought you were cross with me.'

'What made you think so?'

'You know very well. Petr wrote and told me that he admitted to you I had asked him for speed. But he talked me out of it. It was given to me by some other people.'

'Given or sold?'

'They wanted something for it.'

'You talk about it as if you were buying a hot-dog.'

'But I only bought it a couple of times and then Petr talked me out of it.'

'We won't talk about it now.'

'I'm really sorry. I ought to have talked to you about it, but I was afraid you'd be upset.'

He felt he ought to point out that he was upset about what had happened and not about the fact she hadn't told him about it, but he'd first have to make the same comment about his own actions. It needs a lot of courage to admit to an action that one is ashamed of and knows to be wrong. One's reluctance to hurt someone else is just an excuse; in fact it is a lack of courage.

'What's new at home?' Eva asked.

'Mum has gone off to Grandma's with Magda and Marek. And Marek has started to read like mad. The last few days before they left he moved into the library and started to devour books. Mostly about astronomy and nature, but also my theological writings. And before I forget, we discovered that our daughter had started taking drugs!'

They reached the car. 'We've got a new car?' she said in surprise. And you didn't tell me in your letter.'

'Didn't I? Maybe I didn't think you'd be interested. The next time we buy a car I'll let you know.'

'I've been reading too,' Eva said. 'Grandad has an interesting book about Bach. And I played the piano a lot.'

'How much is a lot?'

'About three hours.'

'During the entire stay?'

'No, every day, of course!'

'That's good. One mustn't neglect one's talent.'

'Agreed,' she said, ' — if one has talent. Unlike me.'

'Listen,' he said, 'what about finding somewhere to sit down together, seeing that we haven't seen each other for so long and you've been practising the piano so diligently?'

'Like a pub, you mean?'

'If you like.'

'But we can just as easily go home.'

'At home there's always some disturbance or other — the phone or visitors, you know how it is.'

In the Small Quarter they found a garden restaurant. There were a few locals in the tap-room, but in the garden they found a free table beneath a red sunshade advertising Coca-Cola. In the shade of an old ash tree it seemed cool.

'What will you have?'

'Could I have a Coke?'

'You can have whatever you fancy.' His elder daughter was sitting opposite him, slightly red in the face. Like her mother, she didn't tan, just went red. Anyway they had stopped recommending sunbathing just recently. Why had he really invited his daughter to the pub? Certainly not because the telephone would disturb them at home. Most likely because that was how he invited the other one out. He'd spent more time with her these past weeks than with his own daughter, whom he had neglected to such an extent that he had failed to notice how far she had wandered off. Now he was trying to make up for it. As if he could get back the time that he had wasted so rashly, as if there were any way of rectifying what had happened.