Her Fearful Symmetry

Theo was kneeling beside a pile of boxes. “This is pointless,” he said.

“Probably,” said Julia.

Theo turned to look at her. “Well,” he said. “Would you like a motorbike ride? I have an extra helmet.”

“Why yes,” said Julia. “I would.”

Visit

AT FIRST Valentina was almost nothing and she knew almost nothing. She was cold. She moved aimlessly through the flat, waiting with a sense of anticipation.

Time passed very slowly in the flat. Valentina paid no attention at first, but as the months went by and she began to understand that she was dead, that Elspeth had somehow gone away, that now she was stuck with Julia forever; when she started to grasp what might have happened to her, time slowed until Valentina felt as though the air in the flat had turned to glass.

The Kitten was her constant companion now. They spent days following pools of sunlight, lolling together on the carpets; they watched television with Julia in the evenings and sat in the window seat at night while Julia slept, staring out over the moonlit cemetery. It’s like an endless dream, where nothing ever happens and you can fly. Julia seemed to be watching for her, waiting; sometimes Julia would say her name uncertainly, or look in Valentina’s direction, and at those times Valentina would remove herself to another room: she did not want Julia to know she was there. Valentina was ashamed.

Summer ended and autumn arrived. On a cold rainy evening Valentina saw Robert come up the front walk. In the garden was a For Sale sign; Martin and Marijke had put their apartment on the market. Julia was upstairs helping Theo unpack and repack boxes for the move.

Robert let himself into the flat. The small typed card with Elspeth’s name on it was still tacked to the door, causing him a spasm of sadness. He had taken off his muddy shoes downstairs, and walked noiselessly through the hall into the front room. He turned on the light by the piano and looked around. “Valentina?”

She stood by the window. She waited to see what he would do.

“Valentina-I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

She had been longing to see him for months. Now he was here, and she was disappointed.

Robert stood in the middle of the room, his head tilted as though listening, his hands hanging empty at his sides. Nothing moved. There was no cold presence, only vacancy.

“Valentina?”

She wondered if he had loved her.

He waited. Finally, receiving no encouragement, he turned and padded out of the flat. She watched until she saw him walking up the path and through the gate, dark against the darkness. Where are you going, Robert? Who will be waiting for you when you get there?

Encounters, Evasions, Detections

JULIA WALKED down Long Acre, window-shopping. It was a sunny day in January, a Saturday, and she’d woken up that morning with an urge to go somewhere there would be people; she had gravitated to the shops thinking she might buy a present for Theo, or something cute to wear when she went to visit him at the weekend. Julia was dressed carelessly in yesterday’s jeans and a sweatshirt under one of Elspeth’s coats. She felt extra thin, as though she were barely occupying her clothes. She walked like an astronaut, swaggering in furry moon boots. She wandered into a tiny shop in Neal’s Yard that was full of pink things: hi-top sneakers, feather boas, vinyl miniskirts. Mouse would have been in love with all this, she thought. Julia imagined herself and Valentina in fluffy angora sweaters and Day-Glo green fishnet stockings. She held the sweater to her chest in front of the mirror, and was repelled by her own reflection; the girl that peered out of the mirror looked like Valentina with the flu. Julia turned away and returned the sweater to the rack without trying it on.

Back on the pavement she stood for a moment, thinking about a Pret she had passed a few streets back and trying to remember which direction she had come from. A girl brushed past her. There was something, perhaps, about the smell of the girl, which was compounded of lavender soap, sweat and baby powder, that made Julia notice her. The girl was walking fast, dodging tourists. She moved without hesitating, circumventing Big Issue vendors and buskers instinctively. The girl had dark chestnut hair that bounced in ringlets as she walked. She wore a bright red dress and a little fur capelet. Julia began to follow her.

As she followed the girl she became more and more agitated. Sherlock Holmes says you can’t disguise a back. Or maybe it’s Peter Wimsey. Anyway, from the back that girl sure looks just like the Mouse. She doesn’t walk like her, though. Valentina would never have moved with such forthright strides through a crowd. The girl ducked into Stanfords, the map shop, and Julia did too.

“Please, I’m looking for a map of East Sussex?” The girl’s voice was a rich alto, unmistakably Oxbridge.

“D’you want the road map or Ordnance Survey?” asked the shop assistant.

“Ordnance Survey, I think.”

Julia loitered at a table full of books about Australia while the girl followed the assistant downstairs. A few minutes later, the girl came up the stairs holding a shopping bag and Julia got a good look at her face.

She was like Valentina, and she wasn’t. There was an extraordinary resemblance, and none at all: the girl had Valentina’s features, and none of her expression. The girl was heavily made up, with dark lipstick and eyeliner. Her eyes were brown, and her face had an assurance that Valentina could never have matched. She radiated confidence.

The girl had her hand on the door; she was about to slip away, and Julia couldn’t bear to let her go.

“Excuse me,” said Julia. The girl stopped and turned, saw that it was herself that Julia meant to address. Julia saw that the girl was pregnant. Their eyes met: was the girl surprised? Afraid? Or just startled to find a stranger’s hand clutching her arm?

“Sorry?” the girl said. Julia stared so hard she felt as though she were eating the girl’s face. She wanted to scrub off the make-up, to undress the girl to see if all the familiar moles and vaccination scars would be there.

“You’re hurting me,” said the girl loudly. It wasn’t Valentina’s voice. Around them the shop went still. Julia heard heavy footsteps behind her. She let go of the girl’s arm. The girl flung open the door, stepped onto the street and hurried away. Julia followed her out and then stood watching as she disappeared into the crowd.

Elspeth forced herself not to run. She was panting, and she tried to slow down. She didn’t look back. Here was a Starbucks; she went inside and sat down at a table. When her heart stopped racing she went to the loo and splashed water on her face, fixed her make-up. She scrutinised her reflection. It had not passed the test. She was changed, but apparently not changed enough; Julia had seen her twin underneath the difference. Did Julia know? If she knew, why hadn’t she chased after her; why did she look so uncertain? Elspeth visualised Julia’s face: so thin, so tired. She leaned over the sink, braced her arms against it and hung her head. Her chin rested on her chest, and her belly swelled like a red balloon between her arms. Elspeth began to weep, and once she had begun she could not stop. The little fur capelet was wet with her tears.

When she finally emerged from the loo, three women were standing in the queue and they each gave her a dirty look as she passed. Elspeth decided to skip her remaining errands. She ducked into the tube and exited twenty minutes later at King’s Cross St Pancras. She was standing on the doorstep of the tiny flat fumbling for her key when Robert opened the door.

“Where have you been?” he said. “I was almost worried.”

“We have to leave London, Robert. I saw Julia.”

“Did she see you?”

Elspeth told him. “I don’t think she was sure. But she was confused, and she frightened me. We have to leave.”

They were sitting in their squalid kitchen. Elspeth sat at the table with her elbows on it and her head propped in her hands, and Robert paced. The kitchen was so small that he could only move a few steps in each direction. It made her nervous. It reminded her of Julia. “Please don’t do that.”

Robert sat down. “Where can we go?”

“America. Australia. Paris.”

“You don’t even have a valid passport, Elspeth. We can’t get on an international flight.”