I remembered myself, and that she had suffered a death—her mother’s, perhaps.
‘Little Anja,’ I said. ‘I’m so sorry.’
She could not speak at first, and only nodded.
‘Every time I come into this room,’ she said in a choked voice, ‘I expect him still to be here, sitting in his chair.’ She looked over at the plush armchair by the fire, where Herr Železný had sat at our first meeting. And it was true that an air of expectancy hung about the chair, like the throne of a king awaiting the heir. And that heir—I could not stop the thought—could be me. My mind filled again with dream pictures of a life with her. I was a different man now to the one she had known; stronger, and worthy at last of her affection. It was hard to keep from laughing with joy at the thought that she could still be mine, and keep my countenance suitable for a house of mourning.
The door opened again and a man entered the room. He looked at me with a wary face.
‘Tomáš,’ Anja said, ‘this is my great friend Herr Brod, of whom you have heard so many stories.’
The man nodded, glaring at me.
‘Max, this is Herr Liška.’
My face turned to stone. So this was the man. Liška. Tall, muscular, with a clever face, he was worse than my most paranoid imaginings. I strained to keep my expression under control, to look welcoming and pleasant.
He came towards me with his hand outstretched. We shook hands and I could see him sizing me up, taking my measure, while I tried to place him. Was he here to make a bid for Anja, like me? Or had he already done so? And if that were the case, had he won or lost? We seemed to circle each other like two dogs.
‘Brod,’ he said. ‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’
I did not say, And I of you, but only, ‘Yes.’
He began pacing the room, his eyes on me the whole time. I tried to glean his position from Anja’s attitude. She seemed to make no overtures towards him, but neither did she seem to spurn him.
‘But it is a great shame to meet at such a sad occasion,’ he said. He stopped in front of Herr Železný’s chair. ‘Poor Anja has been out of her mind with grief. It’s good for her to have her friends around her at such a time.’
Friends? Did he mean he himself?
Then Liška held out his arm, beckoning, and Anja crossed the room to his side. He enfolded her casually in one arm and lightly kissed the top of her hair, his eyes on me. Then he sat down in Herr Železný’s chair, leaned back magisterially and regarded me.
Anja went over to the window and pulled back the curtain a small way to look out. Liška and I locked eyes, and I remembered doing the same with Herr Železný on my first visit here, but this time I did not let my eyes fall. How I hated Liška at that moment. After a few seconds Liška rose, saying, ‘I’m sure you two have much to talk over. Anja, I must go out, but I’ll be back in an hour.’
He nodded to me and left.
My dreams were nothing but dead things now, yet my mind could not yet accept this. I floundered for words, but Anja broke in. ‘Max, tell me of yourself. You have been so unwell, I know. I hope you have made a full recovery.’
I cursed myself for not having prepared a cover story to account for the time I had spent in the asylum.
‘Yes, I was ill. Trouble with my leg, you know. It plagues me sometimes. But I am now fully recovered. Indeed, I am much stronger than ever before.’
I knew this was feeble.
Anja made a wry face and came over to where I stood. She took one of my hands. ‘Max,’ she said, ‘you know I was there. In Berlin.’
I could hardly make sense of her words.
‘Do you remember that night?’ she asked.
The details of the night in Berlin came back again and I could still feel the traces of their savagery pulsing through my body.
‘I have memories of it. But I could not say I remember what happened.’
‘Well,’ Anja said, ‘you broke into our apartment—we don’t know how you got in—and, well, you had a kind of fit.’
How shameful, I thought, for her to have witnessed this. I tried to pull my hand away from hers, but she held on.
‘It was Papa who found you. He could see you were in trouble, and he called the doctors. We were so afraid for you.’
‘So you knew where I was this whole time?’ I asked. ‘Why did you never visit me?’
‘But I did visit you. Only you didn’t know who I was. You were insensible—drugged, I suppose. And then, after I had seen you, well, I became a coward. I felt so ashamed for having been one of those who put you in that place. It wasn’t my intention! I thought it would pass in a day or two. And then when it took so long I thought you could never forgive me.’
‘Of course I forgive you! Anja, I love you. That’s what I came here to tell you. Forget Liška! I suppose you two are engaged.’
It was an effort for those words to pass my lips, and I had to avert my eyes from her nod of assent.
‘But I know I love you more than Liška does. I can give you everything you want. Everything! I will do anything for you. You are my queen.’
I turned my eyes back on her face, hoping, hoping against hope, though I knew all was lost. Her eyes were sad. She took up my other hand and held both of my hands together in both of hers. Her skin was as cool and soft as in my dreams.
‘Oh, Max, I love you, I do.’
And so I came to hear those words that I had longed for from the moment I first saw her so long ago. But to hear them like this—hollow, pregnant with rejection—was worse than not hearing them at all. I could hear her ‘but’ hanging in the air long before it reached my ears.
‘But, Max, my love for you is the love for a brother.’
I could not speak, and only nodded. I closed my eyes over the tears and heard her say, ‘I know this is not the love you want, and I’m sorry. But perhaps this love I can give you is a greater kind of love than the other.’
Was this true?
I turned from her and left the house without saying anything. There was nothing to say. I walked, I do not know where, with no objective other than to keep moving, to keep my muscles propelling my body forward with the same repetitive motion. The familiar buildings pressed in on me, I could feel them leaning over me, surrounding me. People passed by, someone called my name, and then the river was in front of me and I came to a stop. I looked along it, at the other bridges and the weight of all that water flowing quietly past, and my face there, quivering, on the moving surface.
Editor’s afterword
A NUMBER OF PHOTOGRAPHS AND PHOTOGRAPHIC NEGATIVES were also uncovered among the Kafka papers. These have been dated, and range from the years 1908 to 1924. Unfortunately, many of them have been severely damaged and are decayed beyond the point of restoration.
Many of the photographs will be immediately familiar to Kafka scholars and enthusiasts, but some hitherto unseen images were also uncovered. Most of the photographs include Kafka, but there are several individuals who are yet to be identified. One photograph, which has been dated to 1911, is proving particularly challenging. It has sustained some water damage, but the image is still discernible. In the photograph, Brod is easily recognisable, and he is pictured with a group of young men whose names are not noted. A note on the back of the photograph, in Brod’s handwriting, is the caption: ‘Self-portrait 1910.’
During the processing of the papers, the image was sent to various international Kafka scholars[33] to ascertain whether Kafka was present among the group. The response has caused some confusion, as various scholars have responded with conflicting identifications of Kafka. Professor Wilhelm Herrmann at Berlin’s Humboldt University and Professor Eric Goldbaum from Charles University in Prague have both independently identified all the men surrounding Brod in the photograph as Kafka. The matter has been referred to the forensics team for further investigation. The complete collection of images will be made available online.
33
Professor Wilhelm Herrmann, Dr Helene Barbere-Flores, Professor Axel Stifter, Professor Eric Goldbaum and Dr Ben Staub.