In the morning Mother broke the news to Pavel who had slept the night through and  was just now waking up, drinking a cup of coffee at the kitchen table. He took it  philosophically.      ‘Hmmm,’ Pavel hmmed without enthusiasm, looking bored. I was not surprised.  Having no interest in politics or defecting uncles, this quiet teenage boy could hardly  be expected to react otherwise. Still, Mother might have taken exception, but luckily  she wasn’t paying attention. She was thinking of her parents, babka Zlatka and  deda Anton, who had to be told of this disaster,  this dreadful turn of events, this  lamentable state of affairs which will prove to be our undoing , Mother orated to herself,  staring gloomily into the fridge. Eventually, she took out a chicken and decided to make  the announcement over lunch.      After the nocturnal kerfuffle, telling our grandparents was ...