Free The Concert by Ismaíl Kadaré

teacher said there was no need to exaggerate.”
    â€œDo you really remember, or did you just read about it?” said Illyrian, teasing her.
    â€œDon’t be so horrid!” replied Linda sulkily, sounding as if she really was still just a kid.
    â€œYou couldn’t have been more than seven in 1960,” Silva reckoned.
    Linda shook her head.
    â€œA bit older than that.”
    â€œWell, I got married soon afterwards!”
    â€œReally?” exclaimed Linda.
    Silva gazed dreamily out of the window.
    â€œIt was just at the beginning of the blockade. And it was then that I gave up archaeology and went into construction.”
    â€œIf I remember rightly, lots of engineers were directed into construction about then, weren’t they?” said Illyrian.
    â€œYes. Construction was the first sector to be affected.”
    Silva went on looking through the window. The memory of the ancient theatre at Pacha Liman came back to her cold and clear, as if from another world. With it came the image of the deserted excavation site, and the thought of how jealous she had been of a good-looking Russian girl who’d suddenly fallen for one of the male archaeologists in the team. “There’s nothing more awful than being jealous while you’re working on a dig,” she’d told Ana, later. “You feel as if all the trenches are being carved in your own flesh.”
    Her sister had listened rather absent-mindedly. Silva knew Ana didn’t know the meaning of the word jealousy, and so was unaware of the suffering it could bring. Even so, she had tried to help. “The Soviets will go away now, so it’ll be all right again,” Ana had said. But that was no consolation to Silva: she thought the sudden parting would only make the man love his Russian all the more. “I just don’t understand you,” said Ana. “Well, go on suffering, then, if that’s what you really want.” But she’d been glad later on, when Silva met Gjergj and forgot her anguish overnight. Ana herself had just met Besnik…But why, Silva wondered, was
she
thinking about Besnik more and more often these days?
    â€œSo it was all quite different then,” said Linda.
    Silva nodded.
    Steps now approached along the corridor, and the door opened to admit the boss. Though his attitude was still gloomy enough, he also looked somewhat relieved. The meeting must be over, and, thought Linda, he’d probably adopted the expression of some Party member who’d just been released and whom he’d passed in the corridor. He seemed to want to speak, but something was holding him back, Illyrian, who knew he was persona non grata, tiptoed out.
    â€œI was right about the meeting,’’ said the boss, without looking up from the papers on his desk. “It
was
about China.”
    â€œReally?” said Linda.
    â€œIt seems they’re changing their policy," Thee, turning to Silva: “I expect your husband will give us some first-hand information on the subject. When will he be back?”
    Silva shrugged.
    â€œI don’t know,” she said. “I haven’t heard from him.”
    She hadn’t sat down at her desk again yet, and for some reason or other she found herself straying back to the window overlooking the square.
    â€œLinda!” she said. putting a hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Look!”
    Linda turned round and pressed her forehead against the glass,
    â€œHow strange!” she exclaimed.
    â€œWhat’s the matter?” asked the boss.
    â€œA little while ago the square was fell of Chinese, and now they’ve all gone…”
    â€œAs if the earth had opened and swallowed them up!” added Linda.
    â€œYou can never tell what they’re going to do next,” said the boss. “It was the same with Nixon’s visit. They kept it secret right up to the last minute.”
    â€œBetter to break once and for all with