Ismail Kadare - The Concert

But it seemed to her that the more she said the less she believed it. Take those stupid remarks about the family. She knew the arrest of a member of a communist family was just as serious as the arrest of someone connected with the old guard. More serious, in fact, because it was so unusual As for the warrant and the member of the committee, they showed this was no routine matter.

But it was precisely what Silva said without believing in it herself that persuaded Sonia to come to the table.

During the meal, though everyone did their best to avoid long ‘silences, they couldn’t und much to say. So they made much play with china and cutlery. When they’d finished, Silva made coffee — the only thing that was welcome to everyone.

“I must go,” said Sonia. “Heaven knows what’s going on at home,”

“In any case, don’t say anything to his mother or the children,” Gjergj advised her.

“But how long can it be kept from them?” replied Sonia. “It’s impossible!”

Impossible, thought Silva… Gjergj, for all his advice to Sonia, knew that as a Party member himself he would have to inform the next meeting of his cell that his brother-in-law had been arrested. Out of the corner of her eye, Silva could see Brikena’s hair almost falling in her plate, as she ate without looking up at the others. She hadn’t uttered a word throughout the whole meal: heaven knew what she might be going through…Her textbooks were full of enemies of the people who were finally unmasked and arrested, and now that world, which had been as distant for her as ancient myth, was irrupting into her owe life. And this wasn’t all! Silva bit her lip at the thought of the forms her daughter would have to fill in to join the youth movement, then to go to the University, and so on throughout her career. To the question, “Has any member of your family been arrested or imprisoned under the present régime?” most of her friends would be able to write “No,” but she, with a trembling hand, would have to write, “I have an uncle who…”

Sonia stood up.

“I must go,” she said.

They saw her to the door, with flustered reassurances which, though they may have soothed Sonia, had the opposite effect on themselves.

“Phew!” exclaimed Silva, collapsing on to the sofa when Sonia had gone. She wept for a moment in silence, while Gjergj went over to the French window again and stood with his back to her, smoking a cigarette.

“I’ll have one too,” she said, between sobs. She asked Brikena to go to her room, and the girl went without a word.

“Do you really believe what you said about the arrest?” Silva asked.

Gjergj still didn’t look round.

“I’m more inclined to think it’s a misunderstanding. One soldier does as he pleases, and his superiors give him the boot…”

“Do you really think that?”

“I did wonder whether it hadn’t got something to do with the Chinese question …It may seem ridiculous, but at times like these the key to the inexplicable often lies in current events…And if this particular business were connected, even indirectly, with China, I'd be tempted to think it was very serious. But I can’t see any evidence for it. Especially as he was expelled from the Party for disobedience — in other words for being a bit of a rebel. And the reason for his arrest must be the same as the reason for his expulsion from the Party.”

“That would make it just an ordinary detention, as you said from the beginning.”

“But being expelled from the Party makes it worse,’ said Gjergj, “and other things may get drawn into it too. When the charge of disobedience is being examined, perhaps the officers inquiring into it will discover aggravating circumstances — insubordination towards his superiors, or insolence…”

The phone rang. Silva shuddered. Gjergj answered, and as soon as he spoke she sensed that the call had nothing to do with what had flashed through her mind. As he went on talking, it occurred to her that the time might come when they’d call or be called by her brother much less often, or not at all, and of course stop seeing him. And it wouldn’t end there. If Arian was in prison for long, it wasn’t impossible that Sonia would divorce him. There were cases where not only a prisoner’s wife but all his relations too dropped him completely.

Gjergj hung up and went over to the French window again. They remained as they were for some time. Silent. Outside, time seemed suspended.

“When you came in just now i thought you knew,” said Gjergj. “You were so pale.”

Silva looked up.

“No. That was for another reason.”

She didn’t want to talk now about her anxieties that morning.

“What reason?”

Silva plucked at her brow, where her eyebrows met. If he insisted on knowing why she had come home looking distraught^ she was going to have to tell him. But perhaps this was the moment to have it all out. Now or never. At any rate it would take their minds off the other business.

“I saw you this morning in the Riviera,” she said finally, giving him a sidelong glance. “You were with a young woman.”

He didn’t flinch. He was still looking out through the window. The mist on the panes made the grey of the late afternoon more dismal still.

“Perhaps you’re going to tell me you met her by accident,” she said, unable to bear his silence any longer.

He didn’t answer straight away. Then:

“Not exactly," he said.

Silva felt her heart thumping. Perhaps she was probing too far. Wasn’t all this too much for a single day? She’d been sure he would stammer out something to deny the facts, or minimize them, or,…But now, instead of justifying himself, by lying if necessary, he was telling her he hadn’t been with that woman in that café by accident. That’s ail this awful day needs,’ she thought: my husband calmly admitting he’s deceived me!

“This isn’t a very good moment for me to explain,” he went on.

“Perhaps not,” said Silva, feeling a great icy wave sweep over her. “Maybe it would be better to leave it till another time.”

She’d spoken quite sincerely. All she wanted now was for the matter to be closed. She was even ready to ask him not to mention it again,

“You’re right,” she added. “It’s not the right moment. I shouldn’t have started it.”

“Not at all,” he answered. “Perhaps it’s just the right moment…”

Just the right moment, she murmured to herself, shattered. What did that mean?

“Gjergj,” she murmured faintly, “Please…I’m terribly tired…Why do you want to add to my torment?”

“I want exactly the opposite. I want to explain, to relieve you of any kind of doubt…”

What a ghastly day — would it ever end? thought Silva. But she felt just a twinge of relief.

“It’s not easy to explain, but I’ll try,” said Gjergj. “It all began in China,…”

What all began in China? Had the girl been there too? Had they met in a hotel? The anguish Silva thought she’d thrown off gripped her again.

“I’ve already mentioned the spiritual barrenness you can experience there, but you know I don’t talk much — I didn’t want to go into detail.” He was still staring at the window. “You feel a kind of void, an indescribable panic. It’s impossible to have a genuinely human conversation. You begin to long for simple, authentic phrases — ‘It’s raining,’ ‘How are you this morning?’ But they don’t exist. As soon as you remark on how windy it is, the person you’re talking to says, ‘The wind from the East is stronger than the wind from the West.’ If you complain that it was foggy, he’ll answer, ‘Chairman Mao says fog suits the imperialists and the revisionists.’ ”