“Marcella?”
“Geoffrey. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put Gaby off. I want to talk to her too. I was just taken by surprise. She didn’t let me get a word in.”
“It’s all right. She’s not offended. Just a bit flustered. Did you phone just to say hello?”
“Not exactly. I have an excuse for saying hello. A pretext. I want your advice. Now it seems silly that I can’t make my own decision. I think it’s just that you’ve always been there at important moments. In Zanzibar. Finding me this job.”
“So, what’s the new important moment?”
“Benji has turned up. He’s in Zanzibar and wants me to join him.”
“Oh. That’s wonderful, isn’t it? That he’s alive.”
“Yes, it’s wonderful. But I’m not sure I want to go back to Zanzibar. I’m not sure about Benji either.”
“You mean your feelings?”
“Maybe. No. I think I feel the same. It’s about going back years and picking things up. I don’t know what’s changed and what hasn’t changed.”
“It is a lot of going back. It just depends how you feel, doesn’t it? How you feel about him. Whether you could stand Zanzibar again. You’ve made a long journey since those days, haven’t you? I don’t know what to say. It just depends on how you feel.”
“I know.”
“Maybe you should talk to Gaby. About Benji. Women are better at this sort of thing.”
“For some reason I wanted to talk to you.”
“Marcella, there’s really no reason I should, but I’m feeling a little awkward. Maybe there’s always something with someone when you’ve been close. And you know I’ve always felt something a bit special about you, even though we were such a disaster. But I’ve become close to Gaby, you know. All those years of us visiting you in prison. We’re going to try living together. I’m well over forty now, you know, looking at fifty. Gaby always seemed a bit like you. Like you two were the sisters. Are you surprised?”
I was surprised. I thought Geoffrey would be single forever. I thought Gabrielle preferred to live alone. I felt more than surprised; I felt upset. I said: “You and Gabrielle. The two people who have been the best friends to me. I shouldn’t be surprised. I should be happy. Congratulations.” My voice went faint on that and I ran out of words, saying to collect myself, “Let me speak to Gaby.”
“Do you mind?” came Gabrielle’s voice.
“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it. You both deserve to be happy. You love him, don’t you? Why should I mind?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Because he was yours first. A long time ago. Do I love him? Oh, we seem to get on. That’s enough for old people like us.”
But I heard her start, then laugh, then say, “Stop it,” off the phone, so that I knew that her answer had been for Geoffrey, to tease him, and that he was doing some tickling mischief to her in return, a playfulness that spoke more of the promise of love than any reply she could have given.
“I’m happy for you, Gaby. Really. I hope you do better than me. I’m sure you will. In any case I’ve got Benji on my hands again.”
“So I understand. It’s such a relief, isn’t it? Just to know. After all this time. Are you getting back together then?” She sounded apprehensive, taking care not to judge.
“I don’t know. He wants me to go back to Zanzibar, of all places.”
“I don’t know what to say, Marcella. I’m so happy Benji’s safe. But it seems such a long time since you two were together. Don’t you like your job in Vermont? I wish you could come back to England.”
“But I can’t.”
“I know. I hate it.”
“Gaby, I’d better get off the phone.”
“Yes, this must be expensive for you. But it’s lovely to hear your voice. Call us again. Let us know what you decide.”
There was the “us.”
“Say bye-bye to Geoffrey for me, Gaby. Keep in touch.”
I had forgotten to give them my number and they had forgotten to ask.
IT WAS JULIA'S VOICE: "MARCELLA! MARCELLA!"
I hurried from the kitchen to find her framed in the doorway, breathless, and silhouetted against falling snow. “Julia. What? Come in. Close the door.”
“I’m not staying.” She was so bursting with something that she was having trouble with the words. “I knew it would work. Your letter. I’ve met him. In the store. He’s so charming! He was asking about you. Why did you leave it so long? I told him how to get here. I’m not staying. You should be alone together.”
“Julia, what on earth are you talking about?”
She dashed in, threw her arms around me, released me and dashed back to the door. “I almost feel like it’s happening to me.”
“Julia, you don’t mean Benji is here?”
Looking towards the road, she said, “There’s a car coming now. It must be him. I’m gone.”
When I moved my feet, they took me to the bathroom mirror. How did I look now compared to ten years ago? I had omitted to ask myself this question and now it was too late. My face was a little thinner, I thought. My waist a little thicker. Some folds had become creases. Not much of a change really. Still recognisably the same package, the same outside. I had time only to flick at my hair when the knock came.
The smile was roguish, but not right. I worked for a moment at making it right, taking into account the ten years, and that people change, and that memory is a cheat. And that the moustache was grey. But in the end I could not rearrange the moustache, the teeth, the eyes into the effect I wanted. Finally, I conceded, “You’re Ashraf.”
“Exactly! It’s been a long time. Marcella, you are living in the Arctic.”
“Is Benji with you?”
“Benji? No, no Benji. Are
