Lovers for a Day

the line for a call.'

'Hello. Hello. Is that Prague?'

'This is Prague here.'

'Is that you, Tereza? Can you hear me?'

'Yes, I can hear you.'

'It's me. Bill.'

'I know. I recognized your voice. And who else would call me from there?'

'How are you, Tereza?'

'Fine now that I can hear you. Can you hear me? How are you?'

'It's good to hear you. But you sound terribly distant.'

'I know. I'm on the other side of the world.'

'I miss you, Tereza!'

'I miss you, too.'

'I wish I could hold you.'

'Me too.'

'What's the news?'

'I'm not sure. None really. The older boy is going to school now and the little one is wrecking the flat and my nerves. I've got loads of work. I'm having a new outfit made. I thought about you when I had the fitting, wondering if you'd like me in it. And how about you?'

'Tereza, I told my wife everything.'

'What's everything?'

'That I love you.'

'You told her about me?'

'I told her I'm in love with you and want to live with you. Didn't you tell your husband?'

'No. . Not yet. Do you think that was wise? What did she say?'

'She didn't believe me at first. And then — she cried.'

'That's terrible. Perhaps you should have waited a little longer. Hello? Hello. . Are you there? I can't hear you, Bill. There's somebody talking Japanese or something on the line. Are you still there?'

'Tereza, can you hear me?'

'Now I can. It's awful, the distance.'

'Unbearable. That wasn't Japanese, that was Maori. I don't see what I'm supposed to wait for — I know I love you.'

'Now I can hear you as if you were in the next room. But it must have hurt her terribly.'

'It's not the telling that hurt her but what happened. And what's going to happen.'

'It's all awful. And what are you going to do? What have you agreed with your wife?'

'It wasn't easy. She told me she might not survive. I need to talk to you about it.'

'Do you mean over the phone, interrupted by someone talking Maori all the time? Surely we can't talk about life and death matters over the phone?'

'Exactly. I wanted to tell you I've decided to fly out to see you.'

'That's out of the question.'

'Why? I'd take the plane, that's all. Like last month.'

'But it costs so much.'

'I don't care about the money. I only care about being with you.'

'How could you be with me? I have my husband here, don't forget.'

'And you did last month too.'

'Yes, but he wasn't here. He was away.'

'But I expect you could find a moment for me.'

'A moment perhaps. And you'd fly all the way for that?'

'I'd sooner have a moment with you than a life without you. Besides, we need to take some decisions. And you said yourself that these decisions can't be taken over the telephone.'

'But you were only here a month ago. We could have taken decisions then but we didn't.'

'We didn't because there wasn't the time. And I didn't realize then how dreadful life would be without you.'

'But we talked about that too, didn't we? About how we'd miss each other. And you told me you wouldn't put me under pressure, that I was to take my time and decide for myself

'But of course you must be free to make up your own mind. That goes without saying.'

'There you are, then.'

'It would never occur to me to put you under any sort of pressure.'

'That's okay then. But you want me to come over there and live with you. And I can't. And I don't want to either. I can hardly be expected to leave now after staying through all the rotten Communist years? I happen to like this country. And my family's here.'

'But I've never tried to force you.'

'No, you haven't. But what other hope do we have of living together? After all, you can't fly back and forth every month.'

'Why not? Anyway, I've come up with another solution, apart from flying back and forth.'

'What solution?'

'Sweetheart, I've decided to move over there.'

'To Czechia?'

'To your country. What exactly is it called now?'

'Czechia. Czecho, if you like. It makes no difference. But that's insane. What job would you do here? We've no sea.'

'That doesn't matter.'

What do you mean, it doesn't matter? You're a naval officer and we don't have any ships.'

'Yes you do, as a matter of fact. I made enquiries. You've got five ships.'

'But those ships are out at sea six months at a time.'

'Not quite so long. And ships are always at sea.'

'But I wouldn't see you for six months at a time.'

'If I stay here I'll have to fly back and forth or you wouldn't see me either.'

'I know.'

'But I thought you told me you wanted to be with me always.'

'I did, I do. You're so far away, though. And your wife and your little daughters are there. And I'm married.'

'That's why I want to move over there. After all, there must be some way of working it out so that the two of us can be together.'

'But your career is with the navy.'

'I wouldn't have to find a job at sea. I could earn my living some other way. I could drive a taxi perhaps. Besides, you've got river navigation.'

'You want to re-train to take care of a raft?'

'As a matter of fact they've got some rather nice little steamers. And they'd have a job for me starting in September.'

'The fact that you're a sea captain was one of the things that appealed to me most about you.'

'That's another thing I need to talk to you about. We've got manoeuvres in September.'

'And you'll be in command.'

'Something like that.'

'That must be fascinating.'

'That's not the point right now. But I can hardly give them just one week's notice that I'm going.'

'Where to?'

'I told you. I'll have a job with that navigation company of yours from September onwards.'

'But it's only June now.'

'Exactly. It's June already. Which means I'd have to give my notice in straight away.'

'But you couldn't, could you, not with those manoeuvres?'

'I could, but I'd have to let them know before the end of the week.'

'And you want to hear from me by the end of the week whether you should come over?'

'I need to know, in order to make my decision.'

'But you promised me you'd give me time to make up my own mind.'

'Naturally. I can't force you, can I?'

'But you're forcing me now!'

'What am I forcing you to do?'

'Hello, Bill, can you hear me? There's someone talking in Maori again. Can you hear me?'

'Yes, I can hear you, and that blithering idiot too. That's not Maori, that's Japanese.'

'What's he saying?'

'Who?'

'The man talking Japanese.'

'It's not important. To hell with him. He says it looks like margarine prices are going to fall. He's talking about the Dow-Jones index.'

'I can hear you fine now. The margarine man has disappeared. What were we saying?'

'That you have to be free to make up your own mind. I'd never put you under any pressure. You're a free woman, Tereza. With me you'd be free at last. I just need to know whether I'm to withdraw from those manoeuvres.'

'Exchange here. Is that seven one zero, eight one three?'

'Hang on! What did you say? Lord, I can't even remember my own number now.'

'It's all right, I recognize your voice. You've got Wellington on the line again.'

'Tereza?'

'Yes, Bill.'

'Are you alone?'

'Yes. There's only my little boy with me.'