Her Fearful Symmetry (30 page)

He stood in the hall and wondered how best to proceed. He decided that the dining-room table would be most comfortable and sat down with the Ouija board, plastic circle and his pad of paper before him.

“Elspeth?” He spoke softly.
Perhaps she’s sleeping. Do dead people sleep?
“Elspeth, I thought we might try automatic writing because it seems like a lot of work for you to push a planchette around a Ouija board. Do you want to try?”

He sat for what seemed to him a very long time, hand poised over the paper in silence, waiting.

He fell into a reverie that featured the many soft-boiled eggs he had eaten whilst sitting in this very chair at this very table. The first morning he had breakfasted with Elspeth she had asked, “How’d you like your eggs?” and he’d replied, “Soft-boiled.” He showed her how to cook them; Elspeth ate her eggs scrambled. And every breakfast thereafter she had presented him with a perfectly soft-boiled egg in a little blue egg cup. He wondered where the egg cup was. Robert was thinking about getting up to look for it when his hand went cold and jerked sideways. He looked around, saw nothing. He picked up the pencil and repositioned himself.

This time he let the tip of the pencil touch the paper. The cold came gradually into his hand. The pencil began to move over the paper.

Circles, loops, spiky lines that looked like seismographs filled the page. Robert sometimes felt his fingers gripping the pencil without his willing them to do it. Sometimes it seemed to be the pencil itself that moved with unseen volition. He leaned over the paper, watching. The meaningless lines became smaller, tighter. Robert remembered his infant school days, practising the alphabet with a thick pencil on coarse paper. His fingers ached from the cold.

WHAT ARE YOU THINKING ABOUT?

He let go of the pencil and it dropped on the table, inert.

“Soft-boiled eggs,” said Robert quietly.

The pencil spun around a few times, as though it was amused, or perhaps upset at being abandoned. Robert picked it up with his left hand, to give his right hand a chance to warm.

LOL I MISS YOU.

“Likewise. Understatement. I just-this is bollocks, Elspeth. I didn’t understand. I’ve been having all these dreams about you, where you’re alive and I’ve been ignoring you-there was one a week ago where I was looking for you in Sainsbury’s and you had turned into a lettuce and I had no idea…and now it turns out that that is essentially the case…I mean, not that you are a lettuce, but that you are here and I didn’t realise.”

NOT YOUR FAULT.

“I keep thinking I’ve let you down.”

I DIED. NOT YOUR FAULT.

“In my head I know that…”

The twins sat on the kitchen floor listening, ears pressed to the dining-room door. Julia glanced at the trail of muddy water they’d tracked across the linoleum.
I hope he won’t come in here, cause there’s
nowhere to hide.
Valentina wished they had really gone to the museum. She didn’t want to listen to whatever Robert had to say to Elspeth. She looked at Julia, who was sprawled in an uncomfortable posture so as to get her ear in the best possible spot. Julia was rapt; she loved spying on people.

Elspeth sat on the table, watching Robert’s face as he spoke to her. It was as though he’d gone blind; he’d no idea where she was, so he sat gazing upward as he talked.

“…so I can’t seem to get on, things are a bit meaningless. And now here you are, but not exactly.” Robert paused, waiting to see if Elspeth would reply. When she didn’t, he said, “Maybe I could come to you. If I died…”

No.

“Why not?”

WHAT IF YOU ENDED UP STUCK IN YOUR FLAT?

“Ah.”

I COULDN’T BEAR IT IF YOU DIED.

Robert nodded. “Let’s talk about something else.”

They both became aware of the breathing at the same moment. Elspeth wrote, KEEP TALKING, and Robert began to tell her about something Jessica had said to him the day before, an anecdote about her law-school days. Elspeth went to the kitchen door and stuck her head through it. At first she didn’t see anything. Then she looked down and saw the twins. Elspeth laughed and flew back to Robert. SPIES, she wrote. COME BACK ANOTHER DAY.

HOW WILL I KNOW WHEN TO COME? Robert wrote back.

I’M ALWAYS HERE, Elspeth replied.

“I’ve got to go, sweet. It’s almost noon, I told Jessica I’d help with the newsletter.”

I LOVE YOU.

He opened his mouth to say it, then wrote it instead. I LOVE YOU TOO. ALWAYS.

Elspeth ran her finger over the writing. She wished she could have the paper, then thought,
No, it’s just a thing.
Robert gathered up the notebook and put the chair back where it had been. He stood in the front hall, not wanting to leave her. A wave of cold passed through him. It made him feel nauseous. He waited for the feeling to pass, and left.

Elspeth went back to the kitchen expecting to find the twins. There were only thin trails of mud on the floor. Elspeth went to the back-door window and was able to see Valentina and Julia creeping down the fire escape, soundlessly. When they got to the bottom they ran across the moss and disappeared into the side garden.
They’re cleverer than they look.
She wasn’t sure if that was a problem; she was aware of mixed emotions-pride and wariness, nostalgia and exasperation.
I wish I could stow them away somewhere while I frolic with Robert.
She sighed.
What a bad mother I would have been.

What is more basic than the need to be known? It is the entirety of intimacy, the elixir of love, this knowing. Robert gave himself over to it. He and Elspeth spent hours each day-whenever the twins were out of the flat-engrossed in each other, reliving with paper and pencil fragments of days that had once seemed ordinary but were now precious and in need of lapidary acts of shared memory.

“Do you remember the day you broke your toe?”

IN GREEN PARK.

“I’d never seen you cry.”

IT HURT. YOU WOULD’VE, TOO.

“I imagine so.”

THAT NICE TAXI DRIVER.

“Yes. And we ate all that ice cream, later.”

AND GOT DRUNK. THE HANGOVER WAS WORSE THAN THE TOE.

“Lord, I’d forgotten that.”

And:

“What do you miss most?”

TOUCHING. BODIES. DRINKING, THAT HEAT IN THE THROAT. SUBSTANCE-

HAVING TO ACTUALLY LIFT MY HAND OR LEG, TURN MY HEAD. SMELLS. I CAN’T REMEMBER HOW YOU SMELL.

“I kept some of your clothes, but the scent has faded.”

TELL ME HOW YOU SMELL.

“Oh. Let’s see…”

DIFFERENT PARTS SMELL DIFFERENT.

“Yes…my hands smell like pencils, and lotiony, it’s that cucumber one you used to buy me…I had pepperoni for lunch…Hmm. I don’t know if it’s possible to know one’s own smell. Sort of like not being able to ever see one’s own face, don’t you think?”

I CAN’T SEE MYSELF IN MIRRORS.

“Oh. That seems-lonely.”

Yes.

“I wish I could see you.”

I’M ON YOUR LEFT, LEANING OVER YOU.

“Mmm. No. Perhaps you’re in some other part of the spectrum. Ultraviolet? Infrared?”

YOU NEED GHOST SPECS.

“Brilliant! We could patent them, people could walk down the street and see all the ghosts riding the bus, haunting Sainsbury’s-”

YOU COULD WEAR THEM IN THE CEMETERY. LOADS OF GHOSTS THERE?

“I wonder. I mean, you aren’t in the cemetery, which is where I rather expected to find you.”

TWINS ARE COMING.

“Oh dear. Till tomorrow, then.”

And:

WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO? YOU CAN’T LIVE THIS WAY.

“What do you mean? I’m happy. That is, I’m happy, considering.”

VALENTINA IS IN LOVE WITH YOU.

Robert put down the pencil. He got up and walked around the perimeter of the dining room, his arms wrapped around his torso as though for warmth. Finally he sat down again. “What do you want me to do?”

I DON’T KNOW.

He stood up again. “I don’t know what to say, Elspeth.” He gathered up the notebook and pencils and went downstairs. Elspeth thought,
Say you love me.
Two days went by before Robert reappeared in the dining room, notebook in hand. “I’ve been thinking,” he said, and sat with his hand poised over the paper, waiting for Elspeth to turn up. She was already there but she made no sign to him. She sat on one of the straight-backed chairs across the table from him, arms folded, eyes slitted.

Finally Robert said, “Elspeth, I’ve been trying to sort things out. About Valentina. And I’m just very-confused.”

Silence. Robert could hear his nervous system whining in his head. It was a soft dark rainy day and the dining room was very gloomy.

“Okay, then. I’ll just sit here and talk to myself.” He paused. Elspeth waited. “Elspeth, what did you think was going to happen? You died almost a year and a half ago. I spent a year just-mourning you, and wishing I could die, thinking quite seriously in fact of killing myself, and just when things seemed to be lifting somewhat, the twins arrived. And if you think back, you had hinted or, actually, you’d said it more than once, that you were sending the twins here as a sort of substitute for yourself. And just as I began to regard them, or rather Valentina, in that light, you reappear-well, not appear, but you reveal yourself to be here, and while that’s absolutely wonderful it does seem as if we are rather stuck.”

Elspeth had a feeling about Robert then that she had never had when she was alive.
He’s going to leave me,
she thought.
He doesn’t love me any more.
It was something about the tone of his voice.

“Elspeth, if I could come and get you-if I knew where to go and how-or even if I could join you, I would do it.”

She went and stood next to him, afraid to hear what he would say next and afraid to interrupt him.

“But we’re both betwixt and between, aren’t we? I’m caught here in my body, and you’re caught-here, without any body at all; no body, no voice…I go downstairs and look at all these pages of writing, and I think I’m losing my mind.”

She caught his hand and made a jerky line with the pencil. When she got it under control she wrote: YOU WANT ME TO HAVE A BODY?

“It’s what I’m used to,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Elspeth let herself rise, until she was looking down at Robert from the ceiling; she was somewhat entangled in the chandelier. She began to run her hands through the little crystals and Robert looked up.
It’s as though I’m a cloud, and he’s expecting rain.

“If you want me to give up Valentina I’ll do it.”

Is that what I want?
she wondered.
Why does he make me decide?
She put her fingers to the base of one of the delicate flame-shaped light bulbs in the chandelier. It surged with light and exploded. Robert averted his face, put up his hands to shield his eyes. He sat that way for what seemed to Elspeth a long time. Then he said quietly, “Why did you do that?” He picked up the pencil, put his hand over the paper gingerly, avoiding the shards of light-bulb glass.

SORRY SORRY SORRY. BY MISTAKE-I WAS THINKING.

“Are you angry with me?”

HURT & CONFUSED, NOT ANGRY.

“Wait here, Elspeth. I’m going to clean up the glass. It will give us both time to think.” He went to the kitchen and found the dustpan and brush. After he had swept up all the slivers and replaced the bulb he sat down again and stared at the paper.
He looks so depressed,
Elspeth thought.
It’s not good for him to sit in the dark scribbling with the dead lady. If this were a fairy tale the princess would come and save him. The least I can do is let him go.

IT’S ALL RIGHT, she wrote. IF VALENTINA MAKES YOU HAPPY, GO AHEAD.

“Elspeth-”

DON’T FORGET ME.

“Elspeth, listen…”

But she had left the room, and she did not come back to talk with him that day or for many days to come.