Chapter 12: What if

Morning came quietly.

Petr opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for a moment. He knew he had slept, but could not remember when he fell asleep. The last thing he remembered was the balcony and the sea below, black and calm.

Žaneta stood by the wardrobe, fastening her bracelet.

Markéta's bed was empty.

Petr sat up.

„Where is Markéta?“

„She went out.“

„Where to?“

„I'm not sure.“ Žaneta checked her fastening. „She said she was going for a walk.“

„Alone?“

„Maybe.“

Petr nodded.

Žaneta looked back at him over her shoulder.

"Are you going down for breakfast?"

“Yeah.”

“All right.”

She didn't say anything more.

There were still few people in the hotel restaurant. A few tables by the window, a couple of guests at the buffet, a waiter arranging glasses next to the juices. The morning light lay on the floor in wide stripes and everything felt calmer than the evening before.

Žaneta took yogurt, fruit, and coffee.

Petr took toast, eggs, and juice, which he never liked here and yet poured for himself every morning.

They sat down at the same table as usual.

„Were you sleeping?“ asked Žaneta.

„A bit.“

She nodded.

„Ty?“

„A little bit, too.“

She said it calmly. Without complaint.

Petr folded his napkin in his lap.

For a while they ate without speaking.

At the next table, a young woman was feeding a child from a small plastic bowl. The child looked up at the ceiling and opened its mouth a second after the spoon arrived.

“Did the boss call back?” asked Žaneta.

Petr raised his eyes.

„No.“

“Not even after that message?”

„No.“

Žaneta stirred her coffee. The spoon gave a quiet clink against the rim of the cup.

"And will you call her again?"

"I don't know."

"You can."

Petr looked at her.

"I can."

Žaneta nodded and took a sip. Before, she would have asked what was new at work, and that would have been the end of it. Now she was asking about the next step.

"Do you have any plans today?" she asked after a while.

„No.“

"Are you going to the lounge tonight?"

Petr put down his fork.

"I don't know."

„Ah.“

„Why?“

Žaneta shrugged.

„Just so I know.“

She took a spoonful of yogurt, looking at her plate rather than at him.

Petr waited to see if she would add anything else.

She didn't.

From the buffet came the sound of dropped tongs. The waiter picked them up and carried them away.

„That new pianist played well yesterday,“ Žaneta said.

Petr looked at her.

„Were you downstairs?“

„For a while. When I went for water.“

„I didn't see you.“

„I know.“

She said it without emphasis.

Petr took his juice and took a drink. It was sweeter than usual, or at least it seemed that way to him.

„He played well,“ he said.

„But it wasn't him.“

Petr stopped moving.

Žaneta looked up.

„I mean the pianist from previous evenings.“

„Radúz.“

„Radúz.“

She spoke his name for the first time calmly, almost cautiously, as if she wanted to remember it correctly.

Petr nodded.

„It wasn't him.“

“I could tell.”

She picked up the cup and looked at the surface of the coffee.

„Did he get in touch with you?“

„No.“

„Ah.“

No further question.

No tone.

Just another item laid on the table between the yogurt, the toast, and the glass of juice.

Petr realized that Žaneta wasn't asking him to catch him out. Nor to get something out of him. She was asking like someone who had been observing the same thing for several days and decided to stop avoiding it.

That was worse than suspicion.

Markéta appeared in the restaurant doorway.

She was wearing shorts and a light-colored T-shirt. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail. She looked around, found them, and headed for the table.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Good morning,” said Žaneta.

Petr nodded.

“Did you go for a walk?”

“Yeah.”

„Alone?“

Markéta gave him a brief look.

She nodded.

She took a piece of toast from Petr's plate on the table.

„Won't you take your own?“

„No.“

Žaneta smiled slightly.

Markéta sat down on an empty chair and began to eat the toast in small bites.

Petr watched her. She looked calm. Tired, but calm. She brought no new explanation. No answer.

And yet something in her face changed.

Žaneta finished her coffee and placed the cup on the saucer.

„I'll go upstairs for a book,“ she said. „Then I'll be by the pool.“

“All right,” said Markéta.

Petr nodded.

Žaneta stood up. She left a folded napkin on the table and walked between the tables to the door.

Petr watched her go.

Her questions remained at the table.

Did the boss get in touch?

Are you going to the lounge tonight?

Did he text you?

None of that was an accusation.

That was precisely why it seemed to him that he had been unable to answer them.

＊ ＊ ＊

Petr walked beside Žaneta, unable to remember who had suggested the walk. Perhaps Žaneta. Perhaps he had said it and forgotten. In any case, they were now walking along the sea towards the harbour, and neither of them said anything.

The sun beat down on the stone and the air shimmered over the pavement. There were fewer tourists than yesterday. A few couples by the railing, two older men sitting in the shade under an awning, a child running ahead of its parents with a balloon. From somewhere above came the quiet buzzing of cicadas.

Žaneta stopped by a shop window displaying ceramics. "Look," she said.

Petr looked.

Blue bowls. A small candlestick. An elephant figurine.

„Hezké.“

Žaneta nodded and walked on.

They walked past the bar where Yassin had sat with Markéta yesterday. The tables were empty. A waiter was wiping down a bench. Petr looked straight ahead and tried not to think about what he had seen there. Two young people talking to each other. Nothing more.

And yet it followed him all evening.

"We've already been here," said Žaneta.

“Yeah.”

She stopped by the railing and looked down at the rocks. The water hit the stone regularly, without drama. It just came and went.

"You remember these places more than I do," she said after a moment.

Petr turned to her.

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know." She shrugged. "It just seems that way to me. As if you'd been here once before and I with you."

She didn't say it sharply. Petr let his gaze sweep across the sea.

"I was here last year."

„I know.“

Silence.

„Alone.“

„I know,“ she said again.

Žaneta turned away from the railing and continued along the promenade. Petr walked behind her.

After a while, they stopped by a small fountain. The water inside was green with algae. Žaneta ran her palm along the edge of the stone basin.

„We were here too,“ she said.

„Yeah. The second day.“

She looked at him.

„You remember that?“

“Yeah.”

Žaneta stood for a moment and looked at the water. Then she walked on.

They moved into a narrower street where there was shade and it was a bit cooler. The house facades were old, peeling in places. Laughter echoed from somewhere through an open window.

„Peter.“

He stopped.

Žaneta stood in front of him with her arms at her sides. She didn't look angry or sad.

„What?“

„Co se děje?“

He remained standing.

„I don’t know what you mean.“

Žaneta shook her head.

„Yes, you do.“

„Žaneto—“

„You've been miles away this whole vacation.“

Petr fell silent.

Žaneta took a step closer.

„You sit at breakfast and you're not there. You go for a walk with me and you're thinking of something else.“

„That's not true.“

„It is.“

She said it calmly. With the certainty of someone who no longer needs to verify it.

Petr ran his hand across his face.

“It's complicated.”

“I know it's complicated.”

“I have work things—”

„Peter.“

He stopped.

Žaneta looked at him with her head slightly tilted, as if listening to something beyond his words.

„To není jen o práci.“

Petr neodpověděl.

"You don't have to explain anything to me," she said after a moment.

That surprised him more than anything else.

"I don't have to?"

„No.“

Silence. At the end of the street, a scooter drove past and the sound of the engine echoed off the facades.

"I just don't want to pretend I don't see it."

Petr leaned against the wall behind him. The stone was warm from the sun.

„And what do you see?“

Žaneta shrugged.

„That you're gone.“

The sentence hung between them. Without explanation. Without accusation. It was simply there.

Petr looked down at the paving stones.

„I don't know what's wrong with me.“

He said it before he could decide whether he wanted to say it aloud.

Žaneta nodded. As if she had been waiting for precisely those words.

“All right.”

Petr raised his head.

„Okay?“

“Yeah.”

„Is that all?“

„What do you want me to say?“

Žaneta smiled. Wearily.

„Petře, I don't want an answer from you that you don't know yourself.“

They were silent for a moment.

Then she turned toward the promenade.

„When you know what's happening to you, tell me.“

She didn't wait for an answer.

She slowly walked back out into the sun.

Petr stood still for a moment.

Then he caught up with her.

They walked side by side toward the sea. Without an argument. Without reconciliation. Without further explanation.

Just two people continuing down the same street, even though each of them was thinking about something else.

＊ ＊ ＊

They returned to the hotel in silence.

The elevator was occupied, so they took the stairs. Žaneta walked a step ahead of him, her hand gliding along the banister, and Petr watched her back. Linen dress. A braid over her shoulder. Nothing that should have stopped him.

And yet he stopped. On the first floor. In the middle of the staircase.

Žaneta looked back.

„What?“

„Nothing.“

They continued upward.

The room was empty. Markéta was not back yet. Žaneta put her handbag down on the armchair and began moving things from it back onto the small table—her wallet, lipstick, the small safe key. She moved calmly, without haste, like someone who is entirely at ease with what she is doing.

Petr walked over to the window.

Outside, it was late afternoon. The shadows had already reached the middle of the street below the hotel. Tourists were slowly increasing on the promenade, evening groups arriving.

He reached into his pocket for his phone.

Radúz. Delivered. Unread.

Boss. Ninth day.

He hid it.

„Žaneta.“

She turned around.

„Can I ask you something?“

She sat on the edge of the bed. Hands in her lap, looking at him.

“Yeah.”

Petr ran his gaze over the carpet at his feet.

"How do you do it?"

„What?“

"What you've been doing the whole vacation." He paused. "You're here. You're actually here."

Žaneta was silent for a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't have your phone on you all the time. You don't sit around waiting to see if someone will text or call you." He shifted his gaze to her. "You're in the room and you're actually in the room. You go to breakfast and you're actually at breakfast."

Žaneta smiled a little.

"And you aren't."

"And I aren't."

A scooter rode past outside the window and the sound of the engine bounced off the facades and then disappeared.

"You won't learn that overnight," she said.

„I know.“

"And I haven't known how to do it since forever either."

Petr leaned against the windowsill.

"You look like you did."

Žaneta glanced over at the window behind his shoulder.

"Petr, I've been thinking about things this whole vacation that you know about."

"What things?"

She raised an eyebrow.

“About you. About us.”

Petr nodded.

“And you don't text me about it every day.”

„No.“

"Why not?"

Žaneta waited a moment.

„Because I think not everything I think about needs to have an immediate answer.“

Petr pulled away from the windowsill and walked over to the armchair. He remained standing next to it.

„Tell me one thing.“

“Yeah.”

„On that walk. Where did you learn to talk like that?“

Žaneta looked at him.

"Like this?"

"Saying something and not needing an answer."

She tilted her head to the side.

"I don't know. Maybe I had to learn how."

„Because of me?“

She didn't answer immediately. She ran her finger along the folded edge of the blanket.

„About ourselves.“

Petr sat down in the armchair.

Žaneta remained on the bed. There were several meters between them and the afternoon light, which was slowly turning orange.

"I never asked you," he said.

„For what?“

"What you're reading."

Žaneta looked at him.

"Přízraky v Umagu. I finished it last night."

Petr looked up.

"The whole thing?"

"It's short." She picked the book up from the nightstand, but kept it in her lap. "But it kind of wrecked me."

"What do you mean?"

Žaneta was silent for a moment, as if searching for where to begin.

"That man, Stano—he has a partner, Pavel. Pavel dies. And then Stano takes a train away, alone, in the middle of the night." She ran her finger along the edge of the book. "And suddenly, just for a second, I'm reading a sentence and instead of Stano, it says Pavel. Like he was the one who woke up, looking out the window at the station, falling asleep again."

"Is that a typo?"

„No.“ She shook her head. „Right after that is the sentence: Pavel took the train and left, and Stano stayed behind alone. As if that dead friend had been with him in the compartment the whole time, and then he just let him go.“

Petr leaned back against the seat.

„That's pretty powerful for a single word.“

„That's exactly why it got to me.“ Žaneta looked out the window. „I had to read that page twice before it hit me that the name wasn't there by mistake.“

„And what next?“

„Gloria — the woman who is with Stano — finds an old letter. From another man Stano loved, a long time before.“ Žaneta paused. „She doesn't yell at him. She says it completely quietly, into the silence — just one word, shame. Because admitting to jealousy would cost her more than pretending it's only about disgrace.“

„And him?“

„He doesn't say anything. He just cries and leaves.“

Petr swept his gaze across the room.

“And how does it all end?”

Žaneta thought about it.

“Gloria used to work on ocean liners. And in one scene, when they were together in Venice—it’s nothing explicit, but one evening they’re in the bathroom, he’s in the bathtub, she’s brushing her hair, music was playing. Just that closeness, the way they are silent together.”

„And?“

“And then she disappears. Back to sea, for work.” Žaneta paused for a moment. “The book doesn't say it, but ever since that bathroom scene, I kept thinking something else was going on. I don't know what exactly. Just that feeling that something is continuing with her now, even though Stano ends up dying in the end.”

“Is something still going on with her?” Žaneta kept the book on her lap.

„Author to nikde nenapíše natvrdo, ale já mám dojem, že tím chtěl naznačit — jeho konec, a její pokračování. Že život jde dál někde jinde, i když se z jedný strany zavírá.“

"That's just your assumption."

"Yeah." She smiled, a little tiredly. "The book won't confirm any of that for me. But it left me thinking about it all night, and that doesn't happen to me often with a book."

Petr glanced around the room. Sandals by the bed. A scarf draped over the back of a chair.

"I didn't know," he said finally. "That you'd read the whole thing."

"You didn't." She said it calmly. "But now you do."

And as he watched her close the book and set it on the nightstand beside the ceramic fish, it hit him that he hadn't just learned something about Gloria or Stan—he'd learned just how deep Žaneta was willing to go on her own, quietly, without a word, until he asked her.

 

"When did you buy it?"

"The fish?"

“Yeah.”

"The fourth day."

"Everything's blurring together for me here."

„I know.“

Petr ran his palm across his face.

„Žaneta.“

“Yeah.”

“I was watching other things the whole time.”

Žaneta didn't interrupt him.

“Markéta. Radúz. The boss.”

Silence.

"And you too. But wrongly."

Žaneta looked up.

"What do you mean, wrongly?"

"I was looking for signals in you." He gave a humorless laugh. "As if I expected you to give something away."

Žaneta nodded.

„And?“

"And you were simply living your life."

She was silent for a moment.

„Not quite.“

„I know.“

„I was thinking about a lot of things.“ She spoke without hurry. „I just didn't expect someone to resolve them for me.“

Petr looked at her.

„Because you know I wouldn't resolve it.“

„Because that's not your job.“

Outside, a car drove past. An engine, then silence.

Petr realized how much time over the last ten days he had spent piecing together stories from the glances, sentences, and silence of the people around him.

And how little time he had spent simply asking them.

„On that walk,“ he said.

"Mhm."

„When did you decide to ask me?“

Žaneta thought for a moment.

„Maybe by the fountain.“

„Which one?“

„At the one with the green algae.“

Petr pictured it.

„Why right there?“

„Because you told me you remember when we were there.“

„And?“

"And I didn't remember that." She was silent for a moment. "And then I realized that you remember different things than I do."

Petr nodded.

“Yeah.”

"And that maybe that's why it's sometimes hard."

She didn't specify what.

She didn't have to.

Petr sat in the armchair and looked at the woman he had lived with for twenty-five years. He knew how she took her coffee. He knew how she slept. He knew the expression on her face when her back hurt.

He didn't know what she was reading.

He didn't know when she had bought the ceramic fish.

He didn't know she had read the whole book in three days.

„You know what I don't want?“ she said finally.

„What?“

„I don't want answers just because I happen to ask.“

Petr looked at her.

"What do you mean?"

Žaneta put她的 book on her knees.

„Sometimes a person asks too late. And then the answer comes too late as well, even if it's true.“

Petr remained silent.

„I'm not saying that as a reproach.“

„I know.“

„You don't know.“

She said it calmly. Not harshly.

Petr cast his eyes down.

Outside the window, the light shifted another notch. Soon it would be evening.

Žaneta opened a drawer and pulled out another book.

Petr remained seated in the armchair and watched her.

“What’s it going to be now?”

“Oh, please, that's 23 Smiles of Lysara Neven by Beta Švarcová.”

Petr waved his hand in the air and made a soft, drawn-out sound.

“Hoooo.”

Žaneta looked at him over the edge of the book.

“Twenty-three,” said Petr. “I’m going to have to practice a lot just to tell them apart.”

She didn’t answer. She opened the book to the first page.