The Ultimate Intimacy

'But you loved him and look what happened.'

'He needed to earn some money.'

'He could have worked.'

'But he did.'

'For how long?'

'He had a debt to pay and apart from that — he needed money to get hold of…'

'What?'

'You know, Dad. Speed.'

'No, I didn't know. You knew but you didn't tell me. And in spite of that you wanted to have his baby and marry him?'

'I didn't want to have a baby. It just happened.'

'You must have been doing something that made it likely.'

'But I'm not trying to excuse myself.'

'Don't you realize the baby could be damaged?'

'It won't be, Dad. I don't take anything any more. Not since the time I told you.'

'But he was taking it. You say so yourself. And have you any idea at all what life with a drug addict would be like?'

'No,' she said stubbornly. 'I've no idea what sort of life to expect. No one knows what to expect. Nor what is good or bad for them.'

'This won't be good anyway.'

And do you think someone else would be better? People do far worse things than injecting themselves now and then.'

'Such as?'

'Stealing, lying, being cruel to each other.'

'Not everyone is like that.'

'Daddy, you know so very little about life.'

'Pètr told me the same.'

'Not long ago a boy told me that they should exterminate everyone who is defective. And also old people who are unable to work any longer.'

'Who was telling you that?'

'It was at a disco.'

'That's just talk.'

'It isn't.'

'There's no point in our talking about people at discos. I'd prefer to talk about you and Petr.'

'Well, he isn't wicked and he loves me.'

'Eva, now you're not talking sensibly. You're just being obstinate.'

'Why do you think he was having shots? It was because he couldn't stand all those things.'

'That's simply an excuse.'

'It's not. I found out for myself. When you give yourself a shot or just smoke marijuana, the world looks better. And you don't even feel like coming back.'

'Babies are born into the real world.'

'I know, Dad. I know I've been a disappointment to you.'

'That's not the point. It's not me that matters, but you and the baby that will be born. How will it live?'

'I'll take care of it!'

'How do you think you'll take care of it, when you can't even take care of yourself? Seeing that you think the world is such a horrible place.'

'It's not that I think it — it is. But he'll help me!'

'Who? Petr?'

Silence.

'So God will, then,' she said in the end.

'Let's hope so.' Then he said, 'We'll help you too, but no one will be able to help you if you don't know what to do about yourself.'

She turned her back on him and he could see her shoulders start to quiver.

He would like to have cried too, but he had forgotten how to, long ago.

'Don't condemn me, Daddy,' she said in the midst of her tears. 'I'll cope, you'll see.'

He had no right to condemn her. She would have more right to condemn him if she knew everything about him.

6

Samuel

Ever since Bára returned from Spain with her son, Samuel has refused to speak to her about anything but those things strictly connected with the running of the household. Instructions related to the office he gives her in writing. On the occasions when Bára tries to tell him something, Samuel either hears her out in silence or turns and walks away while she is still speaking. Bára gives him a hurt look and begs him to make it up with her, because she loves him, because he is her home and because it is impossible to live together all the time in silence. When he still remains silent, her eyes fill with tears and she goes off to find the children or to her own room and locks herself in. He can't deny that she makes efforts to discharge all her obligations and tries not to do anything that might arouse his anger further. So perhaps she really is suffering, but what is her suffering compared to his?

He has to live with a woman who constantly flouts order of every kind. She thereby destroys not only him but also the order on which life is built. For years he has tried to explain it to her but to no effect, or rather with the opposite effect. Bára is more recalcitrant than ever: right in the middle of March when the work load is greatest, she takes herself off with her son, who is only just managing to scrape through school. They go off on an excursion, but not to the Giant Mountains, for instance, but right to the other end of Europe instead. Why? Bára used Sasa's allergy as an excuse, but in reality her intention was quite simply to let him know how much she disdained everything that mattered to him, as well as all his wishes. She wanted to demonstrate to him that it was her sacred right to do just what she felt like. And obviously she didn't give the slightest thought to the fact that her bit of fun cost a lot of money that should have been invested in developing

the practice. Then she pretends to be surprised that he has lost all interest in work at the office. What reason could there be to continue with work which his wife so obviously holds in contempt, to build up something that she will destroy with a mere wave of the hand the moment he leaves the world?

He barely goes in twice a week to check on the work and assign jobs, but he cannot summon up the least desire to design anything himself, let alone come up with ideas or create anything. One of his reasons for stopping work is to demonstrate to Bára how deeply she has wounded him in the very essence of his personality, and the suffering she is causing him.

And he is suffering terribly. The days loom emptily ahead of him, and he just gazes at them impassively, wondering to himself which of them will be his last. In desperation he wonders how he might still change his life. What if he were to return to his second wife? It is years since he last spoke to her, but she has not found another partner as far as he knows. Maybe she'd take him back. He'd be better off with her; at least she wouldn't try to destroy him. But if he were to do that he would deprive his only son of his father, as he had already done to his two daughters. Besides, everyone he possibly still cared about would consider his return to the old woman that he left fifteen years ago to be an acknowledgement of total failure. No one would ever believe he had done it of his own accord, that he had left a woman whom everyone regarded as beautiful, interesting and attractive, who treated every man apart from her own husband considerately or even seductively, simply because life with her was no longer bearable. He could, of course, find a new wife entirely, one who was young and maybe interesting but definitely less extreme; or at least a mistress. But he didn't have the stomach to go behind his own wife's back, besides which he didn't feel he had the strength any longer to start a new life for the fourth time.

For a while he toyed with the idea of buying a dog, but in the end he realized that a dog was more likely to disturb him. It would require care, time and attention, and until it had learnt to understand the order demanded of it, it would actually worsen the muddle sown by Bára and her son — both her sons.

In her monologues Bára asks him, begs him not to upset himself, but to see a doctor, a psychologist or a psychiatrist who would prescribe for him an anti-depressant or send him for psychotherapy, or at

least advise him how to overcome his depression. So she says, but in fact she's hatching a plan to get rid of him from the house, have him locked up among lunatics, have him declared insane and then take away his son, his property and eventually his life.

His life is drawing to a close anyway. If Bára doesn't manage to take it from him, or if he doesn't take it himself, how many years might he have left? A life devoid of hope, meaning and peace of mind can't have much staying power. Depression destroys the heart and encourages malignant tumours.