Her Fearful Symmetry (33 page)

Julia served Martin and herself. There was no point in worrying over whether Valentina expected to eat dinner with her; Robert was there. Martin ate carefully, trying not to bite himself. After the meal Julia counted out his pills and he swallowed them and smiled his half-smile at her. “Thank you, Nurse.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, and began to clear the table. When she glanced at him a moment later he had lapsed back into his sad expression. “What’s wrong, Martin?”

“Oh-I know it’s silly, but I’m worrying because I can’t smoke. I know I ought to quit, but this doesn’t seem to be the right moment-that is, I’m always quitting, but I wasn’t planning to quit today.”

Julia smiled. “When our dad had his wisdom teeth out he couldn’t smoke so Mom smoked for him.”

“I fail to see how-”

Julia snapped her fingers. “Where are your cigarettes?”

“In the bedroom.”

She came back with the blue packet and the lighter, pulled her chair very close to Martin’s and lit a cigarette. “Okay, now, like this-” Julia took a drag, taking care not to inhale. Martin opened his mouth and she blew the smoke into it. “Yeah?” she said. Martin nodded and smoke came out of his nose. “Yeah.”

Julia put her hand on Martin’s shoulder. They leaned into each other. She turned her head and put her lips to the cigarette; the tip glowed. Martin’s eyes were half-closed, his mouth half-open. Julia tilted her face, and when she was inches away she blew the smoke very slowly; the sound Martin made as he inhaled reminded her of Valentina’s long asthmatic gasps. He exhaled, then chuckled.

“What?” she said.

“I’m awfully useless, aren’t I? Can’t even smoke for myself.”

“Don’t be silly,” Julia said. She touched his jaw. “Chipmunk cheek.” Martin raised his eyebrows. She took another drag on the cigarette. He leaned towards her eagerly.

When Robert went downstairs he found the door to the twins’ flat ajar. He knocked and went in. There was a window open somewhere in the flat and a cool damp breeze had found its way into the hall. Valentina was sitting on the sofa in the front room, surrounded by pieces of paper. The Ouija board and the plastic planchette were on the coffee table. The evening light made everything golden: all the faded rose and pink velvet brightened, Valentina’s pale green dress spread around her like a lily pad and her hair, electrified, encircled her face; everything merged in the golden light so that it seemed to Robert like a painting, one continuous surface. Valentina was sitting at the far end of the sofa with one foot tucked under her. She was facing the other end of the sofa as though someone were sitting there with her. Robert stood in the doorway and tried, wished and hoped to see this other. But he could not.

Valentina turned to him. He hadn’t noticed before how tired she looked; her eyes were bloodshot and had dark smudges underneath.

“Can you see her?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “Tell me…how does she look?”

Valentina smiled. “She changed when you came in…” Valentina shook her head slightly. “Why shouldn’t I say that? Anyway, she’s wearing a blue silk dress. It’s tight at the waist and has an A-line skirt; her hair is short, there’s just a little curl to it, it makes her eyes look huge; she’s incredibly pale, except her hands and the edges of her ears…She’s wearing dark lipstick…What else should I tell him?” “Can you
hear
her?”

“No, she’s pointing to things…”

Robert sank down until he was sitting on the floor at the edge of the scattered papers. He leaned his elbows on the coffee table. From this vantage point he thought he saw a disturbance in the air where Elspeth should be: perhaps it was like looking through perfectly clear glass; perhaps it was like trying to see music. He shook his head. “I want to, but I can’t.”

The planchette began to move. Valentina wrote down the message. MAYBE SOON.

“Yes,” said Robert. He was relieved to be back in Elspeth’s good graces. He glanced at the papers on the floor. “What have you been talking about?”

“Family stuff,” said Valentina. “Elspeth was telling me about when she and Mom were little, growing up in the house on Pilgrim’s Lane.”

“Didn’t your mother tell you all that?”

“Not much. Mom told us a lot of stories about Cheltenham. You know, like, all the weird social hierarchies and boring school uniforms. Julia always says they should have gone to Hogwarts instead.”

WE LIKED IT BETTER THAN HOME

“Why, Elspeth?” said Valentina. But Elspeth didn’t elaborate. Valentina watched her watching Robert. Elspeth had leaned back slightly so that she and Robert seemed to be gazing into each other’s eyes. Then Robert turned to Valentina and said, “Your grandparents were awfully strict. Apparently boarding school was a relief; Elspeth used to talk about the school plays, and they liked to play pranks on the other pupils-you know, twin sorts of pranks.”

Valentina asked Elspeth, “Did you and Mom dress the same?”

AT SCHOOL EVERYONE DRESSED THE SAME. OTHERWISE NO ONLY WHEN WE WERE TINY. Valentina found it disconcerting that Elspeth was so wholly focused on Robert; since he had come into the room Elspeth had hardly taken her eyes off him.
She’s so used to being invisible, she forgets I can see her.

All afternoon, and for several days running now, whenever Julia was elsewhere Valentina and Elspeth had been sitting together, conversing in halting questions and answers. It amazed Valentina how different Elspeth’s stories were from what their mom had told them. In Elspeth’s childhood, events tended to take dark turnings: a picnic by a lake ended with the drowning of a schoolmate; she and Edie tried to befriend a boy from next door who was later sent to an insane asylum. In every story Elspeth and Edie were a team; there was no hint of discord, no foreshadowing of any rift; they were together always, cleverer and faster than their many adversaries. The stories made Valentina long for Julia-not the Julia of now, bossy and stifling, but the Julia of childhood, Valentina’s protector and second self. The suspense of each story was heightened by the laborious movements of the planchette. Out of necessity Elspeth’s stories were marvels of compression. They reminded Valentina of the blue-and-white plaques in Postman’s Park.

Robert picked up a few sheets of paper. “May I?” Valentina looked at Elspeth, who shrugged. YOUVE HEARD IT BEFORE, the planchette spelled.

Valentina had added some punctuation. WE WERE NINE. ONE DAY WALKING HOME WE SAW A SIGN THAT SAID “PUPPIES FOR SALE” IN FRONT OF A SHOP. VERY EXCITED, WE WENT IN AND SPOKE TO THE OLD MAN AT THE COUNTER. HE WAS A TOBACCONIST. HE BROUGHT US THROUGH THE SHOP TO A SHED IN THE YARD. THERE WERE BEAGLE PUPPIES. WE PLAYED WITH THE PUPPIES FOR A LONG TIME. THEN WE WANTED TO LEAVE AND WE FOUND HE HAD LOCKED US IN THE SHED. The page ended there. Robert remembered Elspeth telling him, years ago; they had been walking in Pond Street, where the tobacconist’s shop had been. Valentina found the next page and handed it to him. WE SHOUTED BUT NO ONE CAME. THE MOTHER DOG WAS BARKING WITH US. IT GOT DARK. THE MAN UNLOCKED THE DOOR. WE RUSHED AT HIM KNOCKED HIM OFF HIS FEET AND RAN HOME.

Valentina thought,
It’s like a fairy tale
.
How much is true?
She had been enjoying herself, but now she felt apprehensive.

Elspeth remembered the cold, ugly shed, the anxiety of the puppies when she and Edie had yelled; she looked at Valentina and thought,
Why am I telling her this? She’s tired and I’ve confused her.
Elspeth spelled TELL US A STORY V and smiled as kindly as she could.

“Me?” Valentina’s mind went blank.
I’m so tired.
She wanted Robert to go away so she and Elspeth could resume their confidences. Or, she wanted to go downstairs with Robert, be kissed and hide from Elspeth.
Or I could just run away and leave them to each other.

“What’s Julia doing?” she asked Robert.

“Nursing Martin, I imagine,” he said, and told them about Martin’s toothache and Sebastian’s valiant dentistry. Valentina felt a twinge of jealousy; Julia was fussing over someone else. Then she thought,
No, I don’t mind. Really.
She leaned sideways, her shoulder against the sofa back and her head drooping. Robert said, “Have you eaten anything?”

“No.” She remembered having breakfast, but that seemed long ago. “We haven’t been shopping.” She looked up at him. Her eyes seemed enormous, her face pinched.

Robert said, “You look a bit peckish.”
Starved, more like. How long have you been sitting here?
He stood up. “Elspeth, I think Valentina needs some dinner.” He held out his hands. Valentina took them and he pulled her up. She felt dizzy.

Elspeth watched them go. At the door Valentina turned and said, “I’ll be right back, Elspeth. I just have to eat something.” The door shut behind them.

Elspeth left the sofa and went to the open window. She waited. In a little while Robert and Valentina walked up the path, disappeared through the gate.
I ought to know better,
Elspeth told herself.
She’s so accustomed to being looked after.
The light was going.
I ought to be happy for them.
Elspeth watched the sky deepen. The streetlights went on.
It was a lovely day, though. Almost like old times.

It was quite dark when Julia came in. She went through the flat flipping light switches, calling “Mouse?” When she got to the front room she turned on the floor lamp by the piano and closed the window. She gathered up the papers and riffled through them, stopping to read. Elspeth watched her, feeling pensive.
Funny having one’s conversation all written out this way. It’s as though anyone can overhear, like having my phone tapped. But why not? Why tell Valentina and not Julia? Mustn’t play favourites.

Julia looked up as though she had sensed Elspeth’s scrutiny. “Elspeth? Where’s Valentina?”

Elspeth leaned over the Ouija board. DINNER WITH R, she spelled.

“Oh.” Julia sat down on the sofa, forlorn.

HOWS MARTINS TOOTH

Julia brightened. “He’s much better. He wanted to go to bed, so I came downstairs.”

YOU TAKE GOOD CARE OF EVERYONE

“I try.” Julia shook her head. “I think Valentina hates me for it.”

GRATITUDE IS TEDIOUS

“I don’t think there’s any danger of her being grateful. It’s just how it is; she gets sick, I take care of her.”

IF YOU LET HER GO SHE WILL LOVE YOU BETTER

“I know. I can’t.”

Elspeth was startled to see tears brimming in Julia’s eyes. They sat together in motionless silence. After a few minutes Julia left the room. Elspeth could hear her blowing her nose. When Julia came back she said, “Why does it say ‘head trauma’ on this page?” She turned over the papers so Elspeth could see them.

SHE ASKED HOW OUR FATHER DIED

“Oh. We never met him, did we?”

NO ONLY YOUR GRANDMOTHER

“But we don’t remember her.”

SHE DIED WHEN YOU WERE SMALL

“What were they like? Mom never talks about them.”

HE WAS DIFFICULT SHE WAS MEEK

Julia hesitated. She drew a few spirals on the paper while she considered her next question. Elspeth watched her and thought,
That’s amazing; is there a gene for spiral doodling?

“Elspeth? What happened to you and Mom?”

SECRET

“Oh, come on, Elspeth-”

SORRY CANT GOODNIGHT

“Elspeth-?”

But Elspeth had gone. Julia shrugged and went to bed, feeling frustrated but excited. By the time Valentina came home Julia was asleep, dreaming about numbers and teeth.

Martin lay in bed with the phone pressed against his nonswollen cheek, listening to the ring tone in the dark. Marijke picked up on the seventh ring and he felt gratified.

“Martin?”

“Hello, my love. Shall I tell you my toothy tale?”

“I’ve been so worried. You sound as though you’ve got a mouthful of chewing gum.”

“No, but I think my cheek has octupled in size. You’ll never guess who Robert brought to extract my tooth…”

Marijke leaned back in her own bed and listened.
He must have been so frightened; I should have been there. Fancy Robert knowing an undertaker dentist…
Each of them warmed to the sound of the other’s voice. They lay in the dark together, in distant cities, each of them thinking,
We were lucky this time.
And they pressed their phones closer to their ears, and both of them wondered how much longer this separation could go on.

T
HERE ARE several ways to react to being lost. One is to panic: this was usually Valentina’s first impulse. Another is to abandon yourself to lostness, to allow the fact that you’ve misplaced yourself to change the way you experience the world. Julia loved this feeling, and she began to court it. London was the perfect place to get lost. The curving streets changed their names every few blocks, converged and diverged, dead-ended into mews and suddenly opened into squares. Julia began to play a game that entailed travelling on the tube and randomly popping out at stations with interesting names: Tooting Broadway, Ruislip Gardens, Pudding Mill Lane. Usually the aboveground reality disappointed her. The names on the tube map evoked a Mother Goose cityscape, cosy and diminutive. The actual places tended to be grim: takeaway fried-chicken shops, off-licences and Ladbrokes crowded out whimsy.