‘So where’d you find this boy – Scouts?’ Matjaž said, turning to Sonja.
She laughed good-humouredly. ‘That’s right, when I wanted a serious relationship I went to the priest in Zgornje Pirniče and asked him for a solid, honest scout. He said he’d only got one unmarried scout of a suitable age left, but he could also be a bit strange,’ she fabricated ironically.
Brigita continued, ‘Of course he acted normal for half a year, but then he started to stumble. More and more often he would go to bed at ten o’clock, get up early at six so that he could calmly do his morning twenty-kilometre run before cooking breakfast for Sonja and preparing for a new scientific experiment at CERN. Slowly he began tidying up around the flat, too, doing the washing and ironing and putting it back in the wardrobe.’
‘Before we realized how serious the symptoms were, he’d started cooking lunch and dinner, too,’ Sonja added.
‘Until the plot thickened so much that he took it upon himself to wash all the dishes as well,’ Brigita went on.
‘And then after that he got a promotion at work, so he started going to bed even sooner and getting up even earlier, and he compensated for his longer afternoon absence by preparing some sort of soup or goulash for the week ahead during the evenings.’
‘Beef soup on Sundays, obviously,’ said Matjaž, bringing the musings to a close.
Once the trio had grown tired of characterizing Scout Lovro, Matjaž found out that the portrayal was only partly accurate and that Mr Groom ranked as one of the most exemplary members of human civilization. He genuinely did run every day, he actually liked cooking, he really was a successful lawyer, and he read a lot and studied various things – he was especially interested in space. He loved diving and hill walking, and he actually was loving and attentive towards Sonja and – perhaps more importantly – towards her relatives too. He patiently followed the musings of Sonja’s father and the grumblings of her mother for hours on end. He helped Brigita where he could, including when it was necessary to stick up for her in front of her own parents, and also when she left home or when she needed to be subbed a bit of money. He also had a sense of humour, although you wouldn’t call him a joker. He cooked beef soup and goulash on Sundays for lunches throughout the week, to make things a bit easier for Sonja, who as a landscape architect worked in an office every day into the evening.
‘Seriously now, it sounds too perfect. Where’s the problem? What’s wrong? Is he addicted to amphetamines, sex, online chess?’
‘No, it’s not that,’ Sonja replied.
‘What, then? Does he have some sort of terminal illness that we don’t know about?’
‘No, nothing like that,’ Brigita said.
‘Well what then? No one can be that perfect. Seriously, people like that ought to know what a disservice they’re doing to the remaining three billion men in the world.’ Matjaž said, becoming impatient.
‘He has one serious fault,’ Sonja smirked.
‘Just don’t tell me that he doesn’t know how to use some stupid iPhone app.’
‘No, he masters his Samsung smartphone perfectly well and knows his way around a computer,’ Brigita remarked.
‘Come on, seriously now. What’s the catch?’
‘He can be a bit unreliable sometimes,’ admitted Sonja.
‘Unreliable in what sense?’ Matjaž enquired.
‘He forgets things a lot,’ Brigita explained.
‘If he’s too engrossed in a book, study, whatever, he simply forgets about the rest of the world. Sometimes he can get stuck in a shop for more than an hour if the mechanism of a child’s toy or something similar has intrigued him enough,’ Sonja said, providing a more substantial explanation of the problem.
‘I get it. Lovro is insane. That’s why you two are worried about whether he’ll come to get you or not … but that doesn’t concern me as much as the question of whether he’ll conveniently forget to turn up at his own wedding?’
The girls laughed. Then Brigita explained, not joking, ‘He has fewer mishaps whenever Sonja’s with him.’
‘Well, at least you two don’t have to worry about a lift – I’ll take you into Hvar if crazy Lovro forgets about it.’
And that is what happened. Lovro knew what time the ferry got into the port, but since he’d arrived on the island with his friend Samo and been harpoon-fishing every day, he’d somehow lost track of the days. While the girls were looking around the port for his silver Volvo, Lovro was cooking freshly caught octopus for his friend – who, in terms of time and often places, too, was even less reliable than he was. He’d also handily lost his phone somewhere in the apartment. When the two girls turned up at his door, he could only clutch his head in his hands and then run to give Sonja a hug. ‘Are you sure you really want to marry such a fool?’
Matjaž, who was watching the scene from his car, didn’t wait for the answer. He set off to his apartment, only a few kilometres away from the soon-to-be-newlyweds’ holiday home. Amid the euphoria of the freshly reunited lovers he hadn’t exchanged any sort of grand farewell with the two girls; he was only thrown a casual ‘See you later!’ from Brigita, with a timid wave, as she dragged the heavy suitcases towards the door of her temporary residence.
When he left the funny family – aside from the apologetic Lovro he had caught sight of one other specky-four-eyes, who he’d swear had devoted his life to the world of computing, he wondered if he’d see them at all before the wedding. He then quickly tried to exchange that question for a new thought, as within it he recognized a desire to still be in their company. Sonja really was a lovely girl, quite pretty and good fun. But again he was aware that behind that thought there lay some strange kind of attraction towards the anti-social grump that went by the name of Brigita. He also acknowledged that the whole situation was attractive to him because everything was taking place within the realm of the impossible, and the impossible always stirred the human soul. Luckily he didn’t have a very big soul, he thought to himself, so he was worrying over nothing.
TUESDAY
Relatively early, at least by his standards, Matjaž set himself up on his favourite bit of beach. It was one of those small, improvised rocky beaches, constructed at the bottom of quite a steep hill with small winding roads running down to it. Luckily there wasn’t anyone here yet, or not any more, so he calmly stretched out in a more or less comfortable space between the cliffs. He then immediately jumped up again and dived in, his mouth open to consume the sea, which he had clearly missed more than he thought. His favourite activity was to float on the surface like a corpse, partly because it allowed him to shut himself off from everything and forget about all exterior sounds.
Before long, the solitary set-up – between the white of the cliffs and the calm of the sea, with an endless view of the Italian coast – began to appeal. He opened None Like Those and read. It made him think how long it had been since he’d read anything, how long since he’d even been completely alone, and how good it was to read in solitude – even if it was just a novel by some average female author.
By evening he’d grown tired of solitude already. Spending long seconds in the company of your own thoughts, as enticing as the surroundings may be, sooner or later stirs some sort of feeling of self-pity or melancholy. It was therefore time for a visit to town. He was pleased to note how little things had changed since he was last there. He bought newspapers at the kiosk and turned towards the little café in the nearby main square, the place where he’d felt most at home ever since the early days. On the way there he heard a familiar voice calling his name. It was Sonja. ‘Matjaž! Matjaž!’ It took him a few seconds to locate the owner’s voice and her present company.
The future wife was sat in Archie’s Bar with her Lovro, who at that point was trying or pretending to relax and was full of affection towards his love. They invited him to sit down, which he did rather fancy, even though he would have felt better if someone else was also sat with them. As if she read his mind, Sonja said, �
�Brigita and maybe Samo are going to join us, too.’ She looked questioningly at Lovro, who hadn’t noticed her expression.
‘Yeah, they’ve gone for an afternoon swim. Samo convinced Brigita that he knew the most beautiful rocky beach imaginable,’ Lovro began to explain, although no one had really asked for an explanation. It nevertheless stung Matjaž a little now that it had been said; even more so when Lovro went on, ‘I think Samo really likes Brigita.’
‘Based on what?’ Sonja asked him, slightly concerned.
‘Nothing. He told me. And truth be told, my dear, your sister is a pretty little thing.’
‘Darling, please, don’t ever say “pretty little thing” in front of her. You know she kills people for saying such things. It’s very likely one of the reasons she despises the male sex so much.’
‘But I said something nice. That was a compliment, Sonja,’ Lovro said, pulling a face almost like a child.
‘I know it was, darling, but as you know Brigita has trouble accepting compliments.’
‘Anyhow,’ Lovro said, concluding there where his thought had ended, ‘don’t be surprised if the eccentric Samo tries to hot things up with Brigita a little bit.’
‘Oh Jesus!’ Sonja put her head in her hands.
‘What’s that reaction for now? I mean, I know you’ve never liked Samo, but you’ve got to admit that if you put two and two together – i.e. his figure and status – he’s a thoroughly decent bloke. Brigita would be lucky to have anyone interested in her at all, considering how prickly and sarcastic she constantly is.’
‘Brigita would be best off if that bloke, whatever you call him, left her in peace as much as possible.’
‘Oh please!’ Lovro was becoming ever so slightly angry. ‘We all know that young girls like affection from the opposite sex – and while we’re at it, any attention at all.’
‘Darling, I don’t know if our Brigita is that kind of young girl.’
‘Well, then she’s only got herself to blame if she’s alone and unhappy!’
Before Sonja could come to the defence of her younger sister and her solitary, unfriendly nature, Brigita was already walking swiftly towards the table with Samo shuffling along behind her. Samo’s head was bowed, something that secretly pleased Matjaž.
‘What are you two doing here already?’ Lovro laughed cheerfully, clearly not having noticed that Brigita was even more miserable than usual and that it was a huge effort for his friend to lift his head to say hello.
When Brigita started speaking, bolts of lightning flashed from her eyes. ‘He took me to that part of the coastline where there are sea urchins and, obviously, because I had to climb out of the sea along the most awkward rocks, I stood on one.’
‘Stepped isn’t maybe the right word, Brigita, seeing as you landed on the urchin with your hand,’ Samo corrected her.
Brigita looked at him, incensed, and then continued, ‘Anyway, we spent most of the afternoon getting the spines out of my palm. And he’s supposed to be a PE teacher! How many schoolchildren have to die outdoors before you learn what a quality beach is?’ she said, turning towards her lover that was not to be.
He apologized bashfully, ‘No one’s died yet. And, in any case, I don’t teach swimming. The school hires a special instructor for that.’ So the poor computer expert Samo was actually a poor PE teacher, Matjaž thought to himself. Who’d have thought it?
‘Someone else will probably be pulling urchin spines out of some poor child, too, then,’ Brigita snorted. In reply, Samo merely explained that there weren’t any urchins in Savudrija and Piran, where they take the children, and so they weren’t in danger of needing anything pulling out of them – well, occasionally the odd thorn buries itself in a child’s foot, but that kind of operation is very rare, maybe one or two per season.
‘Typical’ muttered Brigita, ‘that you tested out the removal of spines for the first time on me.’
Matjaž, who by now honestly felt sorry for Samo, turned towards Brigita and said, ‘At least you can console yourself with the fact that the poor urchin has already departed this world thanks to your careless paws!’
Brigita almost flew off the handle, but laughter got the better of her. Samo, who clearly had not only failed to tease a single smile from the stubborn young woman but had also only been on the receiving end of insults, let out a visible sigh of relief upon seeing her cheerful expression. Matjaž could have sworn that the poor bloke seriously feared for his life with the disagreeable Brigita on the island.
The evening progressed in a relaxed way. Lovro explained the ins and outs of underwater fishing to Matjaž and the girls, and his description of his few days on the island with Samo also included a list of the best fish, meat and vegetarian restaurants, and a list of decent watering holes on Hvar. Samo blushed slightly with the mention of the Bar Carpe Diem, and Lovro explained with a chuckle that a couple of days ago they had a few too many in there, which caused both of them to sleep in until nine o’clock the next morning. Brigita rolled her eyes, Matjaž shook his head in concern, while Sonja just smiled besottedly.
‘This little animal here can take a lot more than I can, you know,’ Lovro said, turning to Sonja. Matjaž checked whether the ‘little animal’ was at the very least quietly disgruntled by this phrase, and established that she wasn’t. She clearly – for some unknown reason – really loved him. ‘In general, my little animal has all the social skills and I don’t have any.’
‘That’s why you have so many others,’ Brigita said, patting him on the back. It wasn’t clear to Matjaž whether this was her ironic side speaking up or just a genuine acceptance of her future brother-in-law.
The company parted at around twelve. Samo and Lovro had a long day ahead of them; they were going fishing again for tomorrow’s dinner. ‘Of course you’re welcome to come, too, Matjaž!’ Lovro invited him enthusiastically. But when Matjaž realized that the fishing expedition was leaving at five in the morning, he thanked him but politely declined his kind invitation.
‘So what are you doing tomorrow morning?’ Sonja asked him. ‘We have a great beach practically to ourselves. Lovro and Samo won’t be there tomorrow, either, and I promise that we’ll leave you in peace.’
‘Just not too much peace, please,’ Matjaž said.
‘You definitely won’t be bored with those two chatty geese around,’ Lovro giggled, tugging at Brigita’s sleeve and receiving a fake smile in return.
Matjaž happily agreed to the offer. Before he said goodbye, Brigita took hold of his hand and said to him, ‘Tomorrow’s the last day of freedom, then hell is let loose.’ Matjaž couldn’t make out if she was forewarning him or looking to him for consolation.
‘Why? What’s happening?’
‘Our parents arrive,’ explained Brigita, with an expression of grave concern.
‘It can’t be that bad, surely.’
‘It’ll be even worse, you’ll see!’ she persisted.
Her companions started to make a move towards their place. She looked over towards them and then to him, with a slightly pleading look. ‘See you tomorrow!’
‘Deal,’ he said. He watched as the girl, who had for a moment become vulnerable right in front of him, hurried towards her family. Before she caught up with them, she looked back one more time and waved at him, smiling genuinely. Then she raised her middle finger and smiled from ear to ear. The gesture resonated with him as the sweetest and most playful thing. ‘See you tomorrow,’ he thought with considerable happiness in his heart; at that moment he didn’t feel any need to try to understand her.
WEDNESDAY
When Matjaž showed up in the late afternoon at Podstine Bay, where the bride-and groom-to-be had rented an apartment, he found the sisters on the beach stretched out like two seals, each one engrossed in what they were reading. He gave a friendly hello, making both of them jump, then they smiled and invited him to put down his towel wherever he wanted. He did so and politely enquired, ‘Have the two fishermen set off?’
‘We were both still sleeping when the mission for dinner began,’ Brigita explained, and smiled playfully at Matjaž.
‘And when can we expect them back?’ he asked, returning the smile.
‘Not before dark, I’d say,’ Sonja replied calmly.
‘I’m going to have to nibble on something before then; I’ll die otherwise,’ Matjaž said concernedly.
‘Worry not, Lovro has made a fish stew, so that will keep us alive for at least a week,’ Brigita spoke up from beneath her straw hat, which suited her very well.
He surrendered himself to the sun, then surrendered himself to the sea, and then he began to read.
‘What are you reading?’ Brigita asked him. She looked a little bored from lazing around.
‘Mark Twain.’
‘Which one? A Tramp Abroad?’
‘How did you know?’
‘I saw the front cover,’ she laughed. ‘Good, isn’t it?’
‘Have you read it?’
‘Of course, many times. A few stories at least – have you got to the ones where he writes in German and Italian?’
‘Yeah, I have. I’m a bit concerned that you gave over your communist mind to such a fanciful text as this, though.’
‘Believe me, you don’t want to get into a debate with me about the political role of Mark Twain,’ she replied seriously.
‘Of course I don’t. I don’t want any seriousness, that’s why I’m reading this book, and I’m surprised that such a serious girl lets herself be seduced by laughter and enjoyment,’ he said, goading her.
‘What do you even know about me?’ Brigita snapped, not at all nicely, which stung Matjaž a little.
‘Brigita!’ Sonja chimed in, as if she’d recognized him wincing slightly.
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