Death in the Work of an Unknown Author: Afternoon Coffee

“Dima, would you get me another coffee too, please!”

“Me too. Yes. With two or three sachets and milk.”

There was no one else in the café apart from the four women. Three of them were sitting round a small white table in the middle of the terrace.

I left my small travel case by one of the neighbouring tables and headed for the girl at the counter, who was making their coffees. The fourth of the women was leaning on the bar, patiently waiting for the steaming drinks.

I joined the queue too. The woman in front of me carried two of the coffees to the table and, while I was ordering, came back to fetch a few more cups. The girl at the counter gave me a defensive, mistrustful look:

“We’re closing in a few minutes.”

“One coffee, please. I hardly think I’ll keep you.”

She switched on the machine and threw me a slightly friendlier glance.

“Have a nice evening,” I wished her, and carried my coffee to the little table where my small case was resting. I set the cup down carefully and stretched out my legs to let them rest after the long day.

“Mima, did you go to Dr Zdravkov today?”

“Yes. My test results aren’t ready yet. But at least he told me I’ll have to wait more than a month for the first sessions. He’d already warned me, apparently. Can you imagine? I never thought they’d leave a person like that to...”

“It’s free treatment, dear. That’s how the state looks after you. I don’t know what else you expect.”

One of the others joined in too:

“I went and got some of those Chinese herbs from the market. Remember, Mima? The ones you told me about. Against the liver bacterium that may turn out to be the main cause.”

“Dima, to be honest, I don’t believe one single type of bacterium causes all the kinds. Seems too simple to me.”

“It might well be simple. You know how it is — when nobody knows, it could be anything. With the herbs they also give you a tincture of walnut leaves. It’s part of the regimen.”

“Toni, did you go and see Mitko and your sister?”

“Yes. She wasn’t there again, but he was. He was ironing some clothes for Ilyanka. She had her first concert in front of an audience yesterday. Two songs solo. They invited me, but I didn’t make it. I was at the hospital till seven in the evening. I was waiting for the prescriptions, and even so I couldn’t get them all. Lambova wasn’t there and there was nobody to sign in her place. And by then the concert was almost over. When I get home I’ll give them a ring and ask how they are.”

“I’m thinking of trying that Chinese doctor too, the one everybody praises so much.” The first woman had spoken again.

“Even if it doesn’t help much, it can hardly do much harm.”

“The one they had on television? With the new gadgets and the acupuncture?”

“No, no. Chinese herbal treatment. Some herbs he mixes himself and doesn’t tell you what they are.”

“The one I told you about — I’ve heard he has lots of successful cases. Especially duodenum, stomach and breast. You could try him too, I think.”

“I don’t have time at the moment. For now, the chemo and this Chinese man. Later on I might go to the other one as well.”

“Better go back to Enyo soon. At least let him look at your pupils and give you something.”

“Mima, shall I get you tickets for Saturday?”

“Yes.”

“How many?”

“Well, wait till I ring him and he says whether he wants to come too.”

Then the voices mingled for a few minutes. They began talking almost over one another, but the topics were clearly familiar, and they broke off mid-sentence because they knew what the other would say. Meanwhile one of them, the youngest, was talking on the phone:

“Yes. Yes, in Hall 1. On Sunday. Should she get one for you too? All right...”

“Fine, but when she disappears from home like that, where does she go?”

“I couldn’t tell you. I haven’t asked her. And she wouldn’t say anyway, I know her.”

“Nonche, and did you pick up yours today?”

“Yes. All clear. Just a check-up in three months. And then every three months. Normal. Let’s hope it stays that way.”

I turned round. The other three had fallen silent for a moment and were looking at the woman who had said the last words. She was smiling at them faintly, apologetically.