The Woman from Bratislava Read Online Free PDF

Economics when I was speaking there yesterday. I thought about it when I saw her this morning, sitting in the front row at the Institute of History, when you were giving that talk on stagnation phenomena …’
    ‘Oh that – I had them snoring in the aisles during that one.’
    ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re a good speaker and the history students have need of your insight.’
    ‘Okay – and …?’ I said, as we walked on in the now somewhatchillier late-afternoon sun. It was still only March. Spring was not quite here yet.
    ‘She was in the hotel lobby, and now here. It’s too much of a coincidence.’
    ‘You’re seeing things,’ I said. ‘The Cold War ended a long time ago. And we won. The Poles won.’
    ‘You’re probably right,’ he said. ‘She’s probably just a tourist. There aren’t that many sights to see here. I just think it was a bit odd. There’s something professional about it. You get the feeling that she’s been trailing us for a while and has finally decided to let us know about it. The way the KGB used to do, in the old days.’
    ‘Those days are over,’ I said.
    But she showed up again in Prague. During the symposium at Charles University, when we were all lined up on the platform, boring the pants off each other and the audience in the large auditorium . I sat there half-asleep while Lena held forth and Klaus Brandt, the leader of the delegation, got himself tangled up in long-winded expositions. Again she was seated in one of the back rows, high up. Lasse and I spotted her at almost the same moment. She was wearing a plain blue dress with a simple white necklace. She appeared to be listening intently. Made notes and looked for all the world like a refined middle-aged lady taking some extramural course: her husband is gone, the children have flown the nest, now she can devote herself to learning and culture. At the interval I hurried down to confront her, but she had vanished. As mysteriously as she had appeared – I had not seen her arrive and I did not see her leave.
    Afterwards there was a reception at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and the former prime minister made his remark and my evening was ruined. I had too much to drink in the bar, but did eventually go up to my room. I called home – no answer – and fell asleep with a sour taste in my mouth that no toothpaste could dispel.
    The next morning Klaus hustled us along like a bunch of littlekids and I could positively see his blood pressure rising when I deliberately did not turn up until the last minute, then took my time finishing my cigarette before climbing into the bus that was to take us to Bratislava. Thus prompting the other smokers to get back off. Anarchy threatened, and at the sight of our leader’s puce face I climbed aboard feeling slightly more cheerful. Lasse had of course observed the whole performance.
    ‘How childish,’ he said as I sat down beside him.
    But the Czech politician’s snide comment still rankled. At any rate I was too sunk in gloom to enjoy the sight of the budding Bohemian countryside, dotted with sunken haystacks. The landscape and the little farms reminded me of Denmark in the fifties. It had an old-fashioned air about it. We had to sit in a queue at the Slovakian border and Klaus got my back up even further by archly calling out to Lena:
    ‘Well, Lena – we’re about to leave the shelter of NATO protection behind us. I hope you’re not feeling too nervous.’
    ‘Who’s being childish now,’ I muttered to Lasse.
    Things were bound to go wrong. And so they did, after another few days of tedious meetings. It was late in the evening. I had had too much wine with dinner and too many drinks afterwards. On top of everything else my teeth had started hurting, or rather – according to my dentist – my gums. They’re going to rot away if you’re not careful, the heartless money-grubber had declared. I got into an argument with Klaus. I maintained that it would have been