Her Fearful Symmetry

“Any other questions?”

She stared at her shoes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-it was nice of you-” She stopped because she was about to cry.

“Hey, hey, it’s all right, child.” Martin put his thumb under her chin and lifted her face. “No harm done.” She blinked at him. “Don’t look so tragic.”

“I felt like I really was Pandora for a minute there.”

“No, not at all. But I’m going to send you home now, I think.”

“Can I come again?” It seemed urgent to Julia, to know.

“Yes,” said Martin. “That would be delightful. You know, you’re very like your aunt. Please do visit again. Any time,” he added.

“Okay,” said Julia. “I will. Thank you.” They navigated the aisles between the boxes until they stood at Martin’s front door. He watched as Julia disappeared, foreshortened, down the stairs. She stopped and waved just before vanishing. He heard her door open and close, heard her calling “Mouse!” and an answering call. “Goodness,” Martin said to himself, and turned and shut his door.

Her Electrical Nature

IT WAS a dreary Saturday evening in mid-February. Rain was lashing the windows; Elspeth wondered if perhaps that would wash any of the grime off them. Julia and Valentina were eating their dinner in front of the TV. They’re going to get some kind of vitamin deficiency, Elspeth thought. They never seem to eat anything green. Tonight it was tinned chicken soup, peanut butter on toast and semi-skimmed milk. The twins watched copious amounts of television (Julia joked that they had to learn the language somehow), but tonight they seemed to be making a point of sitting down to watch a particular programme. It turned out to be Doctor Who.

Elspeth hovered above them, lying on her stomach, chin resting on folded arms. Isn’t there anything else on TV? She was a snob about science fiction and hadn’t seen an episode of Doctor Who since the early eighties. Eh, I suppose it’s better than nothing. She watched Julia and Valentina watching the television. They ate their soup slowly from mugs and looked keen. Elspeth happened to glance at the screen in time to see the Doctor walk out of the TARDIS and into a defunct spaceship.

That’s David Tennant! Elspeth zoomed over to the television and sat herself a foot away from it. The Doctor and his companions had discovered an eighteenth-century French fireplace on the spaceship. A fire burned in the hearth. I want a fire, Elspeth thought. She had been experimenting with warming herself over the flames of the stove on the rare occasions that the twins cooked anything. The Doctor had crouched down by the fire and was conversing with a little girl in Paris in 1727 who seemed to be on the other side of the fireplace. Is it sad to fancy David Tennant when you’re dead? This is a very strange programme. The little girl turned out to be the future Madame de Pompadour. Clockwork androids from the spaceship were trying to steal her brain.

“Cyber-steampunk, or steam-cyberpunk?” asked Julia. Elspeth had no idea what she meant. Valentina said, “Look at her hair. Do you think we could do that?”

“It’s a wig,” said Julia. The Doctor was reading Madame de Pompadour’s mind. He put his hands on her head, palms enclosing her face, fingers delicately splayed around her ears. Such long fingers, Elspeth marvelled. She placed her small hand on top of David Tennant’s. The screen was deliciously warm. Elspeth sunk her hand into it, just an inch or so.

“God, that’s weird,” said Valentina. There was a dark silhouette of a woman’s hand superimposed over the Doctor’s. He let go of Madame de Pompadour’s face, but the black hand remained where it was. Elspeth took her hand away; the screen hand stayed black. “How did you do that?” said the Doctor. Elspeth thought he was speaking to her, then realised that Madame de Pompadour was answering him. I must have burned out the screen. What if I could do that with my face? She tucked her entire self into the TV and found herself looking out through the screen. It was wonderful inside the television, quite warm and pleasantly confining. Elspeth had only been in there for a second or two when the twins saw the screen go black. The TV died.

“Drat,” said Julia. “It looks like a newish set too.” She got up and started fiddling with the buttons, to no avail.

“Maybe it’s under warranty,” said Valentina. “I wonder where she got it?”

John Lewis, Elspeth remembered. But I think the warranty must have expired by now. She passed out of the television and stood before it, hoping it would revive. That was rather exciting-they saw me! Well, they saw my hand. She waited for the screen to flicker back to life, but it remained stubbornly dark. Think about this. I short-circuited an electrical thing. Am I electrical? What am I made of, anyway? She stared down at her hands, which, to her, looked like-hands. Elspeth floated over to a floor lamp which stood in a corner of the room. It was turned off. She reached through the fixture and touched her fingers to the base of the lightbulb. It began to glow, faintly. Ah, that’s bloody brilliant. She looked to see if the twins were noticing, but they weren’t.

“Maybe that guy upstairs would let us watch his TV,” said Valentina. Her reluctance to meet Martin was evenly matched by her desire to see the rest of the episode.

“I’m not sure he has one,” said Julia. “It was kind of hard to tell with all the stuff he’s got piled up.” They stood looking at each other in silence, irresolute.

“Maybe there’s a Scrabble set around here somewhere.” Valentina got up, and Julia followed her out of the room. Elspeth stood holding the lightbulb, feeling a distinct sense of anticlimax. It’s in the wardrobe in the guest bedroom, she thought. She let the lightbulb go, and the glow vanished. She could hear the twins ransacking her office. I’ve got to get more serious about this. I wish I’d read more ghost stories, I’m sure I could have found some tips in Le Fanu and that lot. Maybe there’s something on Wikipedia. I wonder if I can turn on the computer? No, I’d probably just wreck it. Elspeth climbed back into the defunct television, which was still warm. What’s wrong with me? I feel positively fuckwitted, I think death has knocked fifty points off my IQ. I used to be able to reason. Now I just waft around making random experiments regarding the nature of existence. And wallowing in self- pity.

When the last of the heat was gone from the TV, Elspeth left it and wandered into the guest room. The wardrobe stood slightly open. The Scrabble set was on the top shelf, under the Monopoly box and an old cribbage board. Elspeth got onto the shelf and behind the games. She began pushing. It was useless; the boxes were too heavy for her. Sod it.

She went to her office to see what the twins were doing. They were sitting together on the floor, huddled over an old issue of The Face. Elspeth felt irritated. Idiot girls. You’re sitting in a flat that’s chock-full of fabulous printed matter and what are you reading about? Morrissey.

“Don’t,” said Valentina.

“Don’t what?” replied Julia.

“Don’t be mad at me. It’s not my fault about the TV.”

“I’m not mad at you.” Julia put the magazine down and looked at Valentina. “I’m kinda bored, but not mad.”

“Huh. I just felt this-like you were really annoyed with me.”

“Well, I’m not.”

“Okay.”

They went back to their reading. Elspeth crouched on the floor a few feet away and stared at them. Valentina raised her head and surveyed the room, perplexed. Seeing nothing, she looked down again. Julia turned the page.

All right then, Elspeth thought. We’re getting somewhere, you and I.

Valentina said, “It’s so cold in here. Let’s just go to bed.” Julia put the magazine away and flipped the light switch. Elspeth sat by herself in the dark, listening to the twins brushing their teeth. When the flat was quiet she went to her desk and touched her fingers to the lightbulb in the desk lamp. It glowed.

Squirrels

FOR DAYS Martin had been hearing noises in the eaves. Something was scampering, clawing, scratching in the space between his ceiling and the roof. Martin called Robert. Robert called the pest-control man, whose name was Kevin.

Kevin duly arrived first thing Monday morning. He was an enormous man, at least twenty stone, both tall and wide. He didn’t say anything as Martin and Robert led him through the darkened rooms with their piles of boxes. Martin wondered how such an immense human was going to manage to get through