Fima was thinking: The parliament building surrounded by tanks, paratroopers seizing the broadcasting station, a colonels’ putsch—that’s not what will happen here. Here we’ll just have creeping deterioration. An inch a day. People won’t even notice the lights going out. Because they won’t go out: they’ll fade out. Either we’ll finally get our act together and deliberately precipitate a serious national crisis, or else there just won’t be a definite moment of crisis. And he said:

“You describe it so vividly, I can see it.”

“I’m not boring you? Don’t be angry with me for smoking again. It’s hard for me to talk about all this. I must look a real sight; I’ve been crying. Be nice and don’t look at me.”

“On the contrary,” Fima said, and after a moment’s hesitation he added:

“Your earrings look nice too. Special. Like a pair of glowworms. Not that I have the slightest idea what glowworms look like.”

“It’s nice being with you,” said Annette. “First time in ages I’ve felt so good. Even though you hardly say anything, just listen and understand. Yeri encourages me to take a part-time job with the Jerusalem City Council when the children are a bit older. We start saving. We buy a new car. We dream of building ourselves a red-tiled house, with a real garden, outside the city, in Mevaseret. Sometimes in the evenings, when the children are in bed, we sit and look at American homemaking magazines, drawing up all sorts of plans. Sometimes he taps on our sketches with his finger, as though to test how solid they are. Both our children reveal a talent for music, and we decide to invest in music lessons, private teachers, the conservatory. We take summer holidays by the seaside, the four of us, at Nahariya. In December we leave the children behind and rent a bungalow in Eilat. Ten years ago we sold his parents’ flat and bought the bungalow. On Saturday nights we generally have a few couples come in. Don’t be shy about stopping me, Efraim, if you’re tired of listening. Maybe I’m going into too much detail? Then this reliable man is appointed deputy head of his department. He starts seeing private patients at home. So the dream of the house with a garden in Mevaseret starts to become a reality. Both of us become experts on marble and ceramics and roof tiles, if you know what I mean. All these years, aside from superficial quarrels, not a shadow falls between us. Or so I think. Every quarrel ends with apologies on both sides. He says he’s sorry, I say I’m sorry, and he mutters Azoy. And then we change the sheets or start making supper together.”