Ivan Klima - The Ultimate Intimacy

He didn't join in. He merely adjusted to it slightly, as a result of which he was able to create works that received recognition, and definitely much greater recognition than he receives now that young vultures are circling around devoid of scruples and intent on only one thing: making a fast buck. They will all end up in the next life as wild pigs, or tigers, more likely. A rather ludicrous and naive thought. Worse still, he is touching sixty. He is not as flexible as he used to be and he realizes he can't take the pace for much longer.

They skirt Velké Meziříčí. He once had a date here with his first wife, Katarina. They slept together in a little hotel on the square. Accommodation was so ludicrously cheap in those days, as was the price of a meal, although his salary had been ludicrously small too. But everything lay ahead of him then: all the projects, all the important buildings, the many journeys, the foreign countries, the interesting encounters, conferences, lectures, articles, receptions, recognition and conflict, not to mention two divorces, two more marriages and parenthood — he never seemed to find much time for the children, though he wasn't really such a bad father. Suddenly he is seized by an unexpected regret for times gone by, for his past life and even the old order

of things which, while he didn't like it and didn't think it was right, he had grown accustomed to, learning to manoeuvre and even excel in it; regret for his youth and his life as it gradually draws to its close. What is left for him? Scrabbling for contracts and offering bribes, because money means more than his name, his skills or his experience.

Besides, every new contract takes him nearer to the last one he'll ever receive, and to his own end. What sort of life has he had, really? What would his next rebirth be like, if something of the sort could happen in the mysterious order of life?

Out of the blue, the young vulture Vondra asks what sort of commission they should offer. Vondra thinks at least 13 per cent of the price. This strikes Samuel as excessive; it's shameless to demand several hundred thousand for nothing and therefore stupid and immoral to offer so much. But Vondra believes that everyone will offer 10 per cent and if they want to win it they will have to be generous. Generously immoral, he adds, and makes Ljuba laugh.

But no one will be offering a design like ours, Samuel points out. Vondra agrees, but the ones who will be taking the decision don't care about the quality of the design, only about their commission. That's the way it usually goes, and if things turn out differently, then so much the better.

They reach the Hotel Kontinental almost an hour before they are due to meet with the chairman of the sports club that is investing in the complex. Samuel takes leave of his travelling companions for a short while. The two of them go off together. They each have their own rooms but will most likely sleep together. A tiger and a pussy cat. He prefers not to think about such matters any more. He and Bára hardly ever make love now, and he fears other women because of AIDS and potentially emotional entanglements.

In his room, which is fairly luxurious, he removes the plans from his overnight case and looks them over once more to assure himself that they are original and interesting. The suspended cable construction of the roof might seem unnecessary for a small complex, but it creates a sense of vastness, of loftiness and originality. People yearn for originality. And even though it is no longer possible to come up with anything unique, there is no harm in a little surprise. He folds up the plans again. The time drags. There is still time for him to shower and change. He could even stretch out for a while.

There is a telephone on the bedside table. He ought to call home as

he always used to do whenever he went on a trip, and Bára would take it as an expression of love and concern. Now, though, she would think he was checking up on her and regard it as an expression of his jealousy and lack of trust. That's if she is at home and answers the telephone. Except that she's not at home at all, or if she is, she's not on her own; the phone won't give him any clue to the identity of her visitor anyway. She could be sitting on her lover's knee and begging Samuel down the phone to come home as soon as he can because she misses him so, and is afraid to be home on her own. Even a very bad actress can manage that. He suppresses an urge to get in the car and drive off home. Instead he takes a tablet of Imigran for his headache and another red capsule of Prothiaden. Then he goes down to the lobby and orders a glass of mineral water, since he can't mix the pills with alcohol, and with a sense of total desolation he awaits the arrival of those he is to bargain with, as well as those he is to bribe.

5

Daniel noticed that Eva was downcast rather than elated when she returned from her school-leavers' party. He felt like doing something to raise his eldest child's spirits. 'What would you say,' it occurred to him, 'if we were to go off on a trip somewhere together, now that you are an adult?'

'Just the two of us?'

'Just the two of us for once — that's if you could put up with my company.'

'We've never done anything like that before.'

'Maybe when you were very small. We might have been left on our own, but you wouldn't remember that.'

'And where would we go?'

'I was thinking maybe about the Prachov Rocks, it's beautiful there.'

'You and Mummy used to go climbing there, didn't you?'

'Yes. In fact something happened there that concerns you.'

'What was that?'

'Mummy and I were camping there exactly nine months before you were born.'

'I see. Do you think you'd still find the spot?'

'Definitely, although I've not been there since.' 'But I couldn't manage to climb the rocks.'

'We won't climb them. With my back I wouldn't go climbing anyway.'

Daniel found the spot easily — on a raised level area away from the Emperor's Passages and the other tourist trails. Several birch trees and two tall bushy larches pointed skywards, the colour of the leaves and grass were both soothing and hopefully spring-like. In the middle of a patch of sand were the traces of an old camp-fire. And on all sides there was a view of the many rock pillars, sheer rock faces and rock passages.

'Did you make a fire here?'

'I think so, but I expect there have been lots of other camp-fires here since.'

'Did Mummy enjoy rock climbing?'

'We both did. There was a good crowd of us. We even went abroad together, to Yugoslavia. It was still one country then and it was easier to get there than to the Alps. We climbed Bobotuv Kuk and several other rocks on Durmitor. I got stuck in a chimney there and I suddenly had the feeling I couldn't go up or down.'

'What did you do? Did you pray?'

'No, I certainly didn't. I was never one to believe that the Lord is there to help us out of sticky spots. Mummy was with me, or rather below me, and that helped me to keep my calm. In the end I climbed out like everyone else.'

'Was Mummy a good climber?'

'We all had to be, or we would never have reached the top together. Your Mummy had a very special affinity for the mountains. She used to say that rocks were ancient giants turned to stone who definitely lived once upon a time.'

'Did you try to talk her out of it?'

'Why should I have? Maybe she was right. Maybe they're still alive, but we are just unaware of their life because it takes place in a different dimension of time.'

'Daddy, you'd never say that in a sermon.'

'I suppose not,' he conceded. 'But it's a mistake.' Then he showed her some of the nearby rocks that he had either climbed or attempted to climb in vain, as well as some of the rocks her mother had scaled.