Ivan Klima - The Ultimate Intimacy

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.

And wine?' she asked.

'You can have wine too.'

He ordered them each a glass of wine. Not even her arms were tanned; they were just freshly covered in lots of freckles. He pictured to himself a hypodermic syringe and a needle puncturing that skin, heaven knows what kind of needle. The very thought was nightmarish — surely it couldn't happen to the little girl opposite, his little girl.

It was a fact that he seldom found the time to talk to his daughter,

to ask about her worries, her pals, to hear some of the things she thought about, what her concerns were, whether the poem she had shown him was her only one or whether she wrote verse more frequently, and who she showed it to. Admittedly he saw her every evening at the dinner table and at the Sunday service, and was endlessly giving her orders, making sure she prayed, taking note of the marks on her school reports and the names of her teachers, studying literary and general history with her, and even telling her about those things that were either deliberately omitted from the curriculum or lied about. But she herself was so unknown to him that at the moment when she clearly needed him, he sat here as if with a strange young woman. He was incapable of intimacy even with his own daughter.

'How are you planning to spend the rest of the holidays?'

'I expect I'll go and spend a week with Mum. And then Marek and I were thinking of going for a couple of days to protest against the Temelín nuclear power station.' She sat rather stiffly and answered him like a model pupil or a model daughter.

'I don't know whether that's a particularly good idea, whether Marek would be capable of protecting you if the need arose.'

'You keep on staring at me as if I've committed a terrible sin, Daddy.'

'It's not a question of sin, just the fact you could completely ruin yourself!' He knew about her failings, she didn't know about his. Which of them was ruining themselves more? What was more excusable, or understandable, at least? 'And I'd also like to know if you intend to give it up!' It was possible, or probable in fact, that if one deceived those around one, one influenced them even if they knew nothing about one's deceit. Because people who deceive behave differently from those who have nothing to hide.

'I wanted to tell you that it's not Petr's fault. He tried to talk me out of it.'

'Why are you always talking about Petr and not about yourself?'

'I don't want you to do Petr an injustice.'

'I don't intend to. But you must realize that I'm more concerned about you than about Petr. But while we're on the subject — am I supposed to be grateful to him for teaching you another bad habit?'

'He didn't start it. And he persuaded me not to inject anything. After I'd got hold of the hypo myself.'

'Where did you get it?'

'At school, of course.'

'But you haven't answered my question about whether you intend to give it up.'

'I already have, thanks to Petr.'

'Thanks to Petr, who in place of one bad habit taught you another?' He was having trouble suppressing his anger.

'Daddy, you don't know anything about it. Petr isn't wicked. On the contrary, he wants to help people. And he talked me out of speed because I might get hooked on it. Marijuana isn't addictive. And anyway I've given that up too. Down at Grandma's I only drank milk and ate vitamins.'