“Certainly. And I want you to take a double dose of your medication tonight,” said the doctor with concern as Bertlef went off into the small adjoining room.
“You once gave some poison to Jakub,” said Olga. “It was a pale-blue tablet. And he always had it with him. I know it.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. I never gave him any such thing,” the doctor said very forcefully.
Then Bertlef, wearing a fresh necktie, returned from the adjoining room, and Olga took her leave of the two men.
24
Bertlef and Dr. Skreta walked down the poplar-lined avenue to the railroad station.
“Look at that moon,” said Bertlef. “Believe me, Doctor, the evening and night yesterday were miraculous.”
“I believe you, but you should take it easy. The bodily movements that inevitably go with such a beautiful night can really be very risky for you.”
Bertlef did not reply, and his face radiated only happy pride.
“You seem to be in an excellent mood,” said Dr. Skreta.
“You’re not mistaken. If, thanks to me, the last night of her life was a beautiful night, I’m happy.”
“You know,” Dr. Skreta said suddenly, “there’s a strange thing I want to ask you but have never dared to. And yet I have the sense that today is so exceptional that I might be bold enough to …”
“Speak up, Doctor!”
“I want you to adopt me as your son.”
Bertlef stopped in bewilderment, and Dr. Skreta explained the reasons for his request.
“I would do anything for you, Doctor!” said Bertlef. “I am only afraid that my wife might find it odd. She would be much younger than her son. Is this even legally possible?”
“It doesn’t say anywhere that an adopted son must be younger than his parents. He isn’t a son by blood, but just an adopted son.”
“Are you sure of that?”
“I consulted lawyers a long time ago,” Dr. Skreta said shyly.
“You know, it is a peculiar idea, and I am a little surprised by it,” said Bertlef, “but today I am under such a spell that I want nothing but to make everyone happy. So if that makes you happy … my son …”
And the two men embraced in the middle of the street.
25
Olga lay stretched out on her bed (the radio in the next room was silent), and it was obvious to her that Jakub had killed Ruzena and that only she and Dr. Skreta knew it. She would probably never learn why he had done it. A shudder of horror ran through her, but then she noticed with surprise (as we know, she knew how to observe herself) that the shudder was delightful and the horror full of pride.
The night before, she had made love with Jakub while he must have been full of the most excruciating thoughts, and she had absorbed him completely into herself, even with those thoughts.
Why doesn’t this repel me? she wondered. Why don’t I go (and never will go) and inform on him? Am I, too, living beyond justice?
But the more she interrogated herself this way, the more she felt swelling in her that strange, happy pride, and she felt like a young girl who is being raped and is abruptly gripped by stunning pleasure growing all the more powerful the more strongly it is being resisted …
26
The train reached the railroad station, and two women got off.
One was about thirty-five and received a kiss from Dr. Skreta; the other, who was younger and elegantly dressed, carried a baby in her arms and was kissed by Bertlef.
“Show us your little boy, Mrs. Bertlef,” said the doctor, “I haven’t seen him yet!”
“If I didn’t know you so well, I’d be suspicious,” said Suzy Skreta, laughing. “Look, he has a birthmark on his upper lip, in exactly the same place as you!”
Mrs. Bertlef examined Dr. Skreta’s face and said in a near shout: “It’s true! I never noticed it on you when I was here at the spa before!”
Bertlef said: “It is such an amazing coincidence that I venture to rank it among the miracles. Doctor Skreta, who restores health to women, belongs to the category of angels, and like an angel, he puts his sign on the children he has helped bring into the world. It is not a birthmark, it is an angel mark.”
All were delighted by Bertlef’s explanation, and they laughed cheerfully.
“Besides,” Bertlef went on, addressing his charming wife, “I hereby solemnly announce that, as of a few minutes ago, the doctor is the brother of our little John. Since they are brothers, it is quite normal for them to bear the same mark.”
“Finally! You finally decided …” said Suzy Skreta to her husband with a sigh of happiness.
“I don’t understand, I don’t understand any of this!” said Mrs. Bertlef, insisting on an explanation.
“I shall explain everything to you. We have many things to talk about today, many things to celebrate. We have a marvelous weekend before us,” said Bertlef, taking his wife by the arm. Then the four of them walked off under the platform lights and away from the railroad station.
COMPLETED IN BOHEMIA IN 1971 OR 1972
About the Author
The French-Czech novelist Milan Kundera was born in the Czech Republic and has lived in France since 1975.
Also by the Author
fiction
The Joke
Laughable Loves
Life is Elsewhere
The Book of Laughter and Forgetting
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
Immortality
Slowness
Identity
Ignorance
non-fiction
The Art of the Novel
Testaments Betrayed
The Curtain
Encounter
play
Jacques and his Master
about the work of Milan Kundera
Agnès’s Final Afternoon
by François Ricard
Copyright
First published in paperback in 1993 as The Farewell Party
by Faber & Faber Limited
Bloomsbury House
74–77 Great Russell Street
London WC1B 3DA
First published in the UK in 1977
by John Murray (Publishers) Limited
50 Albemarle Street, London W1X 4BD
Published in France in 1976 under the title La valse aux adieux
This new translation first published in 1998
This ebook edition first published in 2020
All rights reserved
© Milan Kundera, 1973
Translation © HarperCollins USA, 1998
The right of Milan
