No Saints or Angels

That's a coincidence, I said, my mum's a dentist too, but in Prague.

They were tickled pink that my mum was a dentist too and wanted to know whether we were going back to Prague and where from. 4 told them we were on a tour because it's so beautiful round here we can hardly get over it.

They were really chuffed and told us to help ourselves to the apples they were bringing with them.

I started on about Sunnyside, saying I'd heard there was some farm up in the woods where there were junkies. Had they heard about it? They said they had and that it was really dreadful how many young people have got hooked on that stuff and the ones up there are the worst of alclass="underline" they nick things, get drunk and they were all shacked up there together.

'That really must be awful for all the people round there,' I said. 'Luckily we didn't go anywhere near there, otherwise we'd have spoilt all the happy memories we have from the rest of our trip.'

They dropped us in Blatná in front of the castle and even told us how happy they were to have met such nice young girls and how nice it was that there were still some young people who appreciated natural beauty.

Afterwards Monika told me I was a gas. As she knew about the money I got from Mum she dragged me into the nearest supermarket and we bought a bottle of vodka, though I'm not much into booze. But we didn't have enough money for anything we could really trip out on.

CHAPTER SIX

1

I miss Jana. When I'm finished at the surgery, I don't even feel like going back to the empty flat. Jan called me a few times. I talk to him but I don't feel like seeing him. Or so I tell him and myself. But then when I hang up I feel so wretched and lonely that I burst into tears.

Sometimes I get together with Lucie, and almost every day I drop in on Mum. I also visit my ex-husband. I get him something from the shops and cook him an evening meal, the way I did years ago. But he eats almost nothing. He is quickly going to seed: he's already an old man.

Life is sad. Almost everyone ends up on their own. Maybe in the past people still had God with them, but he wasn't really with them, at most they had him in their mind.

I don't mind being on my own, what I mind is that I've failed in my life and the people around me failed too. I reproach myself for handing my daughter over to the care of strangers, for not being able to cope with her on my own. I'm annoyed with myself that when she needed me most I squandered the little time I had left for her on a vain and conceited love affair.

Maybe I understand teeth, but I've never managed to understand the hearts of even those who are closest to me.

The waiting room has been full since morning but I've an urge to get away from here and be alone in the forest, the

thickest one possible. The trouble is I won't escape myself anyway.

I work in silence. I don't even talk to Eva. And it would be just the day when I have one serious case after another. Periostitis and three extractions, and to cap it all the last one was a number eight. And as if out of spite the phone hasn't stopped ringing.

I even cope with the number eight. I dictate the details to Eva for the patient's record and the phone is already ringing again. I can hear Eva saying, 'I'm afraid Mrs Pilná can't come to the phone now; she is in the middle of an extraction.' Then she listens for a moment and tells me, 'Apparently it's important. It's to do with Jana.'

'Rinse out, please.' I take the receiver and some girl's voice informs me that Jana is lost. She has run away with Monika. Who's Monika? Oh, yes, now I remember. The new one who didn't want to go on living. 'If she doesn't return by evening,' the girl informs me, 'we'll have to ask the police to look for her. Should she turn up at home, please call us.'

'Do you think she'll come home?'

'Probably not.'

'So what am I supposed to do?'

'I don't know,' the voice says. 'I'm new to this and Radek doesn't get back until the early evening.' She promises they'll call me if Jana turns up.

'She's run away?' Eva cottons on.

I nod.

'What are you going to do? Shall we call it a day here?'

I call Mum and let her know what has happened and ask her to go over to the flat and stay there until I get home. There's no point in sending patients away when they have appointments — anyway I don't know what I could do at home except wait. And being stuck at home would be even more intolerable.

'She's bound to turn up.' Eva tries to cheer me up. 'They'll call you soon, you'll see.'

But nobody calls and so I go on working. My fingers go through the routine motions, inserting the correct drill and using the right pressure. I even talk: asking things and giving orders, and all the while I imagine some dimly lit den full of junkies, a car driven by some pervert or a pimp, all of them taking my little girl away from me.

'That doesn't hurt?'

'No, doctor. You really have a way with your hands.'

I have a way with my hands, but nothing has ever turned out right for me.

'That's the lot,' Eva suddenly announces and leaves the door to the waiting room open. 'Shall I ring around all the people who have appointments for tomorrow to let them know you won't be here?'

I shrug. I've no idea what I'll be doing tomorrow or whether they'll find Jana by then. 'No, don't call anyone.'

2

Back home, Mum wants to hear some details, but I don't know anything. 'What if Jana came,' it strikes me, 'and instead of coming here went to your place?'

But Mum had already thought of that and pinned a note to her door saying where she was. 'You shouldn't have sent her so far away' she reproaches me. 'She's not used to that way of life.'

'Was I supposed to let her lead the sort of life she was getting used to?' I don't know how I'll get through the rest of the day. I smoke one cigarette after another. I can't even stay sitting down. I dash about the flat tidying things. I have to do something. I call Sunnyside again. The girl's voice tells me they still have no news of the runaways, but the boys of the community have decided to go and look for them.

'Do you think they'll find them?'

'They're the only ones who have any real chance. They already know them and know where they might find them.'

I try calling girlfriends of Jana's that I know but I get no reply anywhere. No one's home. Naturally, it's still the holidays.

I ask Mum to stay in my flat while I go and look for Jana.

'Where?'

'I don't know. Everywhere.'

'When will you get back?'

'I don't know that either.'

'But it's pointless, isn't it?'

What isn't pointless? I don't ask her. Instead I tell her I'd go round the bend just sitting here doing nothing.

'Have some sense, Kristýna, and stop panicking,' she urges me. 'There's no way you'll find her. Instead you'll probably do yourself a mischief. Look how uptight you are.'

'I'm not a little kid any more, Mummy.'

First I drive to Kampa, but in the place where we found her last time there are just a few dogs running around.

I run over to the old millstream on the edge of the park as if intent on fishing Jana out of the water. There is a couple snogging on one of the benches, but they don't notice me.

You don't happen to have seen my Jana — fifteen years old, blue eyes, a high forehead, long legs, a punk hairstyle…? — I don't ask them. I dash back to the car and set off in a southerly direction, upstream, out of the city. I push the poor old banger to such limits that it whines. The countryside flashes past me as splashes of colour.

Where are you heading, Kristýna? You haven't the foggiest idea where you're going, have you?