Waiting for the Dark, Waiting for the Light

'So, what was it like out there?'

He said that he'd had a lot of work. Everything was in flux now, so much was happening, there was lots to see and therefore lots to film, and no one had to approve what he shot any more.

She asked how his mother was, but he hadn't had a chance to go to the hospital that day. Over the phone they told him that the burns were healing surprisingly well. It was his mother's mind that was beyond healing.

'What's Robin been up to?' he asked.

'He's thrilled by what's happening. He wants to watch the television news every night.'

'You're not thrilled?'

She looked at him as though she were wondering what he wanted to hear.

Of course she was thrilled. She had nothing to lose, she hadn't got mixed up in politics, she'd only sold things of slightly worse quality than things sold everywhere else in the world.

'They say there'll be private shops again,' she said, not replying 'directly. 'And they also say they're going to give people back their property, maybe even whole factories.'

'What's that got to do with us?'

'It's just that that's what they told us at head office.'

'My parents owned nothing, not even a kennel,' he said. 'They won't be giving anything back to me.'

'Nor to me, either. Unless they give Kučera back the factory his father used to own.' She sounded casual, but it was clear she had given the possibility a great deal of thought.

The telephone rang.

She stood up quickly and grabbed the receiver. He could hear a male voice on the other end asking a question. He saw that she was blushing. He got up, but there was nowhere for him to go, unless he went back into the shop, which was supposed to be empty.

'Call me tomorrow,' she said into the phone, unconsciously lowering her voice. 'I have a visitor.' She hung up quickly. 'That was him,' she said, 'Kučera. He wants to arrange to take Robin skiing.'

'So why didn't you make the arrangements?'

She shrugged her shoulders. 'I need some time to think about it.' She walked over to the desk, bent over and began rummaging for something in the bottom drawer.

He watched her half-exposed breasts, the breasts he had touched so often. He reached for her and took her in his arms.

She looked at him, surprised, but then let herself be kissed. 'Are you mad?' she said, when he began fondling her. 'We can't do it here

'But you've locked the door.'

'The boss has a key.'

'Do you think she might turn up?'

'And I have to go to the post office.'

He stroked her breasts.

'I don't know, I don't know.' But she didn't resist when he carried her to the chair.

She made love to him perfunctorily, silently and passively, probably because she didn't like the place.

'You make love to me, but you don't really like me,' she said as she was putting on her clothes.

'What makes you say that?'

'When was the last time you told me you loved me?'

'I love you.'

'But you don't want to have a baby with me.'

He said nothing.

'And you don't want to marry me.'

'But it's as though we're married.'

'Yes, you can have me any time you want. In the shop, on a chair, just because you happen to feel like it. But you're not interested in the rest of it. You're not interested in me. You're not interested in Robin either. You don't like either of us.'

'I have no idea why you're talking like this.'

'I've known for ages. I'm just telling you now. You only care about your mother and maybe your camera — at least you make bloody sure no one does that any harm.'

'Has anyone done you any harm?'

'Yes. You!'

'Here? Now?'

'Here or somewhere else. It doesn't matter where, you don't really love me. You think only about yourself.'

She went back to the desk and pushed the drawer shut. Then she took some lipstick out of her handbag and began to apply it carefully as she looked in the mirror. 'How long do you think I'm going to hang around waiting to see whether you've decided to stay with me or take up with someone else?'

'But I'm staying with you.'

'All the same, you're cheating on me. Don't think I don't know it.'

'I'm not cheating on you,' he said, without conviction. Her explosion had caught him off guard. Until now, she had submissively done things his way. Something must have happened. She was a real shopkeeper. She had it in her blood. The world around her was collapsing and rearranging itself into something that could bring profit or loss or something else entirely.

Until now, he had represented profit to her. He was a better sort of companion than she could ever have hoped for. Either she had concluded that he could no longer bring her any advantage, or someone else had appeared who offered her better value. Or both of those things had happened, and he had failed to notice.

She got into her coat, glanced at herself in the mirror again and put on her hat. 'Shall we go?'

They were silent for most of the journey. As they were getting close to where she lived, he asked, 'Was there anything else you wanted to tell me?'

'Why? I've said all I want to say for the time being.'

4

Peter had taken over from Halama and was now Pavel's new boss. Pavel didn't know whether this was good or not. On the surface, not much in his life had changed, but the certainty had gone out of it. He brought footage back from wherever they sent him, and then they broadcast it, without

anyone either objecting or approving. He might tell himself that he had finally achieved independence and responsibility, but in fact the situation made him increasingly uneasy.

He even found it hard to concentrate on his tennis and lost three sets one morning to Sokol. In the showers, when Sokol remarked that the same old thing was starting up again, Pavel asked what he meant.

'You know, first they replace the bosses, then the bosses start replacing the ones underneath them and so it goes, all the way down. Except for the cleaning ladies. They get to stay,' he explained. 'Or maybe you think that's not how it's going to be this time?'

He shrugged his shoulders.

'They say this new guy spent years as a custodian of some castle,' Sokol informed him, 'and that he's a Catholic.'

'Protestant,' he corrected him.

'You know him?'

'A bit.'

'So what do you think he'll do?'

'I don't know. Maybe he doesn't know himself.'

'Maybe he'll ask you for advice, since you know each other.'

'I doubt it.'

'Or maybe you'll be the first to get fired?'

'I don't know. I really don't know.'

'What the hell does a glorified caretaker know about running a television network?'

'He wasn't always a caretaker.'

'Even so. The only thing he'll know for sure is that he's expected to replace us. It would be better not to wait. We'd be wasting our time, and now it's more true than ever that time is money. Have you thought at all about my idea of setting up an advertising agency? Remember, we talked about it? Do you have any idea what kind of money the ones who get in there first will make?'

Pavel shrugged. 'I don't understand why you want me to go in with you.' He'd already finished dressing. He didn't want to talk about it now. He was tired and thirsty after the game.

'A lot of empty buildings will be available now,' said

Sokol, sticking to his subject, 'and if we move quickly we can still get something pretty decent, something we can turn into a studio. It will cost a bit, but if several of us get together. . '