Her Fearful Symmetry

to stay in London with Julia, to take her home to Lake Forest; they recognised that she was too overwhelmed to decide right now, then stared at her eagerly as though they might whisk her off before she had finished eating her steak frites. They spoke of Valentina carefully; it was difficult for each of them to refer to Valentina in the past tense, so they talked around and around her. By the time Julia had seen them into a cab and walked back to Vautravers she wanted to crawl up the stairs on all fours. But Martin asked me to come stay with him.

When she came into his office Martin was sitting at the computer, but the screen was dark; he sat with his hands folded and his head bowed, as though saying grace.

“Martin?”

He roused himself. “There you are. I was getting sleepy.”

“Me too. I just wanted to say goodnight. I’m going to bed.”

“Oh, don’t, yet.” Martin held out his hand. She relented and went to him. He said, “I was thinking-I might leave tomorrow.”

“Leave?” She couldn’t take it in. “How can you leave? I wish…Couldn’t you wait?”

Martin sighed. “I don’t know. If I wait, will I be able to do it at all? But perhaps tomorrow is too soon. I don’t want to upset you.”

Julia bent and clasped her arms around his neck. She did it impulsively and Martin reacted as he often had when Theo was small: he pulled Julia onto his lap. She rested her head on his shoulder. They sat this way for a long time. Martin thought she might have fallen asleep when she said, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he said. He stroked her hair. “But don’t be so tragic; I’m sure I won’t be gone long. Or, you can come and visit.”

“It will be different. Everything will be different now,” she said.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. What do people do by themselves?”

“Come with me,” he said.

Julia smiled to herself. “That’s silly. You’re going to Marijke. You don’t need me.”

“Don’t I?”

She raised her face and he kissed her. The kiss progressed; he broke off, panting, and took her hand away from his belt buckle. “That’s no good,” he said.

“Sorry.”

“No-that is, I would if I could-Julia, the Anafranil-one of the side effects is-”

“Ohh-”

“That’s why I never liked to take it.”

“It’s like a chastity belt.” She began to giggle.

“Minx.”

“I guess Marijke doesn’t have to worry about me.”

Martin said quite seriously, “In the larger sense, no, she doesn’t. But Julia, you aren’t meant for an old man like me. Your lover should be what I was thirty years ago.”

“But, Martin…”

“You’ll see,” he said. He moved to stand up and she slid off his lap. “In the meantime, come along and let me sing you a lullaby.” He took her hand and led her to his bedroom. “Ah, wait; let me just check something.” He took out his mobile, pressed 2 on his speed dial, let it ring once and hung up. It was 11:22.

She watched him curiously. “What are you doing?”

“For luck,” he said. “Come along.”

Robert checked to make sure that the keys were still in his pocket. He laid two of them on his dresser and kept the key to the twins’ flat. He gathered up Valentina and lifted her off the bed. He caught sight of the two of them in the mirror, an image out of a horror film: the candlelight flickering from below, dark shadow cast across his face, Valentina’s head thrown back, her neck offered up, her arms and legs dangling. I am the monster. He felt the absurdity of the situation, and then deep, unspeakable shame.

He walked through the flat as quietly as possible. Valentina’s foot banged against a wall; Robert flinched, then wondered if she would feel it when she was back in her body. He opened his front door an inch and listened. He heard traffic, wind rattling the windows. He eased Valentina through the doorway and carried her upstairs. At the twins’ door he had to shift her; he stood with Valentina draped over his shoulder like a suit collected from the dry-cleaners’ while he fumbled with the key. He realised after messing about unsuccessfully that it hadn’t been locked in the first place.

He carried Valentina into the dark front room. His eyes adjusted, and he laid the body carefully on the sofa.

Softly: “Elspeth? Valentina?”

No response. He sat peering at Valentina’s body by the glow of his wristwatch and the moonlight, waiting.

Elspeth was there. She felt Valentina frantically squirming in her hands. Is she trying to escape? She was afraid to open her hands, afraid that Valentina would disperse, that she would fight or thrash around. Be still, darling. Let me think. She could not put off the decision any longer.

Robert watched Valentina’s chest. He waited for her to breathe.

Elspeth knelt by the body. It was cool, profoundly still, alluring. She felt Valentina go quiet. She felt Robert sitting close to her, eager, unhappy, frightened. She looked at the body, lax and waiting. Elspeth made her decision and opened her hands.

A white mist gathered over Valentina’s body. Elspeth watched it hover, waited to see what it would do. Robert saw nothing, but the air became suddenly cold. He knew the ghosts were there. Breathe, Valentina.

Nothing happened.

After a while he was aware of a change in the body. Something was present. There were faint sounds, gurgling, liquid; he had a sense of something far away coming closer.

The body opened its mouth and took a jagged, asthmatic breath, seemed to hold it for a long time, let it out and began sucking at the air again with horrible rasps. It lurched sideways and Robert caught it; it was convulsing and the breaths stopped. Then suddenly there was another agonised gasp. Robert held Valentina’s hands pinned on either side of her torso. He knelt next to her, braced her with his body. The sofa was slippery and he tried to keep her from falling onto the floor. Something like electricity wracked her body; her limbs contracted; her head swerved violently back and forth, once.

She cried out: “Uh-uh-uh!” and he said, “Hush, ssh,” as though she were an infant, but now she thrashed and her eyes opened. Robert recoiled at the blankness of her eyes. It was not even animal, it was the gaze of brain damage; it looked past him into nothing. Her eyes closed again. Her breath quietened. He put his hand on her chest. Her heart was beating.

He was afraid.

“Elspeth?” Robert whispered, to the room. There was no response. “Can I take her away now?” Nothing.

A harsh voice said his name in the dark.

“I’m here, Valentina.” She said nothing. He smoothed her hair. “I’m going to take you downstairs now.” She kept her eyes closed, nodded awkwardly like a child too drowsy to speak. He lifted her off the sofa; she tried to put her arms around his neck, but couldn’t. He carried her to the landing. She was live weight now, dense and mobile.

In his own flat he laid her back on the bed. She sighed and opened her eyes, looked at him. Robert stood over her. She seemed almost normal: exhausted, limp. Something about her expression was different, though. He couldn’t think what it was. She held out her hand, palm up, quivering with the strain of holding up her arm. He took it in his; her hand was quite cold. She pulled his hand slightly: Lie next to me.

“Wait a minute, Valentina.”

He took out his mobile, speed-dialled Martin’s number. He let the phone ring once and hung up. Then Robert placed the phone and his glasses on the bedside table. He took off his shoes, walked around the bed, sat down beside Valentina. She looked up at him and smiled, shyly, lopsidedly, a smile that happened at different rates of speed in various parts of her face. How ordinary she appeared: the violet dress, the white stockings. There were places where blood had pooled and made her skin deep red; these were becoming pink. Bluish white skin was beginning to flush. He touched his fingers to her cheek. It was pliable, soft.

“What was it like?”

Lonely. Cold. Insanely frustrating. “I-missed you.” Her voice cracked; she sounded like a ventriloquist’s dummy, off-kilter, high, raspy and stressed wrong.

“I missed you too.”

She held out her hand again. He lay down beside her and she turned her face towards him. Robert wrapped his arms around her. She was trembling. He realised then that she was crying. It was such a normal sound, the sobbing girl in his arms was so tangible, it was easy to forget the reason for the tears, it was natural to comfort her. He stopped thinking and let himself kiss Valentina’s ear. She cried for what seemed a long time. She hiccuped; he handed her a Kleenex. She fumbled at her nose, dabbed at her eyes. She tossed the tissue over the side of the bed.

“Okay, then?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

She tried to unbutton his shirt, but her fingers weren’t working properly. He closed his hand over hers. “You sure?”

She nodded.

“We should wait…”