Her Fearful Symmetry

by Audrey Niffenegger

  'I'll quit again in half an hour.' Martin smoothed out the map on the table. Robert saw that it was covered with marks, notes, erasures. Martin pointed to a tiny red circle in the Jordaan. 'There.'

  Robert squinted, brought the minuscule words into focus. 'Close, but no cigar.' They stared at each other. Robert smiled. 'How did you happen to pick that spot?'

  'I know her. She's careful not to say much, but I remember things. We lived nearby, on the Tweede Leliedwarsstraat.'

  'I'll throw in her email address.'

  'Marijke doesn't do email.'

  'She does. She's had it for more than a year.'

  'A year?'

  'I'll give you her address, email and a photograph of her apartment.'

  'She sent you a picture of her place?'

  'Several. Did she mention she's got a cat now?'

  Martin looked wistful. 'Does she?'

  'It's a little grey cat named Yvette. It sleeps on Marijke's pillow.'

  Martin sat quietly, smoking and staring at the map. 'All right, you're on. What do I have to do?'

  Robert laid it out for him. It was simple, really; it was the only simple thing about that entire day.

  When Jack woke up, Edie was standing in her nightgown at the French windows in the small hotel room, staring at the blue sky over the slate roofs of Covent Garden. He lay there watching her, reluctant to break into her thoughts. Finally he got up and went to the bathroom. Amazing how life goes on. Here I am pissing and showering and shaving like it's any day, like we're on vacation. Why didn't we come and see them before? He wiped the last traces of lather from his neck and went back into the other room. Edie was still standing at the windows. Now her head was bowed. Jack walked to her and stood behind her, put his hands on her bare shoulders. She turned slightly.

  'What time is it?' she asked.

  'Eight fifteen.'

  'We can call Julia.'

  'I'm sure she's been awake for hours.'

  'Yes.'

  They continued to stand that way, Jack's hands weighing on her shoulders. Edie said, 'I'll call her.' Her cell phone didn't work here, so she fumbled with the hotel phone, misdialled and redialled.

  'Julia?' I just wanted to hear your voice.

  'Hi, Mom.' Oh God. I don't know what to do, Mom.

  'We thought we might come earlier.' I can't stand to be in this room.

  'Can you come soon?' I'm alone and I don't know what to do.

  'Yes, yes, we'll just get dressed and take a cab. We'll be there as soon as we can.' Edie felt a surge of incongruous happiness. She needs me. Edie was smiling as she hung up the phone. She walked briskly to her suitcase and began to dress for the funeral. Jack went to the wardrobe, stood looking at his dark suit hanging by itself. He forgot, for a minute; he was lost in the dark wool hanging in the shadows of the wardrobe. Then he remembered and reached for the suit. I feel old. The suit was heavy, as though it were lined with some soft metal. He watched Edie bustling around, brushing her hair, putting on earrings. I don't want to go outside. He sat on the bed holding a pair of socks. Edie saw him sitting motionless and said, 'Come on, she's waiting for us,' and it was that singular pronoun, pronounced impatiently, that finally bore down on him the fact of Valentina's death.

  *

  Julia was waiting for them downstairs in the main hallway. She watched her parents through the narrow leaded window as they let themselves in the gate and walked along the path through the front garden. It was a bright June day; the sunlight made them seem extra-dimensional and distinct. They reminded Julia of a picture in one of the twins' childhood books. A little girl leading a bear. Julia opened the door and wind rushed in, blowing Robert's mail to the floor. She left it there.

  Edie embraced Julia and said, 'You aren't dressed yet?'

  Julia looked down at her sweats. 'I didn't want to wait for you upstairs. The flat is kind of creeping me out right now.'

  'Stay with us at the hotel, then,' Edie said.

  Julia shook her head. 'I have to stay here.' Valentina's here. She's got to be.

  Jack bent down to Julia and she clasped her arms around his neck. 'Come on,' she said. They went upstairs, Julia leading the way.

  Once inside the flat they hesitated. 'Have you eaten?' Jack asked. He was ravenous, but felt guilty for thinking about breakfast.

  'No,' said Julia, vaguely. 'There's probably some food. Have whatever you want. I'll get dressed.'

  Edie followed Julia. Yesterday, when they had arrived, Edie had been grief-numbed and jet-lagged. Julia had completely occupied her mind. This morning Edie began to notice the apartment itself. Elspeth suddenly seemed present to her in the furnishings, objects, in the paint on the walls and the angle of the light coming in the windows, in the very air. It was as though their childhood had been preserved in a museum. Edie shuddered. She stood in the doorway of the bedroom as Julia began stripping off her sweats. Julia had laid out her violet dress, white stockings and black patent-leather shoes. It was the same outfit she had chosen to bury Valentina in.

  'Don't,' said Edie.

  'What?'

  'Don't wear what she's wearing. I can't ... I want you to wear something else, please.'

  'But--'

  'Please, Julia. It's too much.'

  Julia looked at Edie and relented. She walked into the dressing room in her underwear and began taking things off their hangers, tossing them at the bed.

  Elspeth heard Edie and Julia talking. She came out of her drawer and slowly made her way to the bedroom. She kept Valentina cupped in her hands. Yesterday Elspeth had stayed away from everyone. All night she had bargained with herself, confused and defensive. I'll never see her again. She'll be unhinged. I don't want to see her. It's my fault. She's here and I should see her. If she knew she would never forgive me. Coward, coward. Murderer. Valentina had seemed to catch her mood and became subdued, a little sad apprehensive cloud wrapped in Elspeth's dark musings. Now Elspeth crept towards the bedroom in a chastened state of mind.

  Edie and Julia stood on opposite sides of the bed, flipping through a pile of clothing. Oh ... there you are. Elspeth stood in the doorway, staring. Valentina became brighter, seemed to beat like a heart. Oh, you. What happened? How could this have happened to you? The last time she had seen her twin, it was 1984 and they were sobbing in each other's arms at Heathrow, the babies in a double pram beside them. Twenty-one years later and here we are ... You're so different. Older, but there's something else; harder. What is it? What happened? Elspeth stared and thought, He didn't take care of you; you had to take care of yourself. No one loved you the way I did. If we'd been together ... Oh, Elspeth.

  She slunk around the edge of the room. Julia looked right at her and became still, watching. Can you see me, Julia? Or is it Valentina? Elspeth sat down on the window seat and tried to efface herself. Valentina twisted and throbbed in her hands. Julia walked over to where Elspeth sat and put a hand out, towards Valentina. Valentina stilled as Julia touched her. Julia closed her eyes. 'Mouse?'

  'What are you doing?' asked Edie. Julia stood at the window with one hand extended. 'Julia?'

  'She's here!' Julia said, and burst into tears.

  'What? No, Julia ... here, come here.' Edie went to Julia and held her. Jack appeared in the doorway and Elspeth was shocked; he was so much older, softer; domesticated. Edie looked at Jack over Julia's shoulder and shook her head slightly. He withdrew. Elspeth heard him walking through the flat and down the stairs. He's gone to have a smoke, she thought. She watched Julia and Edie. Julia had stopped crying. They embraced, swaying back and forth slightly. Elspeth was envious. Then she was ashamed. She's their mother. It doesn't matter. It's too late to fix anything. Things that had once seemed important now revealed themselves as idiotic. We thought we were so clever. We were stupid. We bollixed it all up. Elspeth wondered if she could put things right again. If Valentina came back; if the twins went home? She would make Valentina go with Julia. She would sacrifice everything. All this sadness for nothing. She
got up and left the room. She felt a kind of yearning, then realised that it was Valentina's; Valentina wanted to stay, wanted to be with Julia and Edie. Sorry. I can't bear to watch them any more. You have to come with me. Elspeth went to the office windows and looked out without seeing, clasping her writhing daughter to her chest.

  Robert answered the knock at his door, expecting to see Julia. Instead it was Jack.

  'I hope you don't mind. I've been shooed out and thought maybe ...'

  He doesn't want to be alone, Robert realised. 'Right, of course. Come in.' Robert had been sitting at his desk, staring at his enormous manuscript. Anything was better than being alone. He led Jack to the kitchen. 'Can I get you anything? Tea? Coffee? Jameson's?'

  'Yeah. The last.'

  Robert put out two glasses, and the bottle. 'Water? Ice?'

  'Yes, and no, thanks.' Robert ran some water into a carafe and put it in front of Jack. They sat across from each other. The kitchen seemed strangely cheerful, sun-bleached and empty. Jack wondered if anyone in this building had any food. Robert saw him looking at the bare cupboards. 'I haven't felt much like eating. I could make toast, though, if you'd care for any?'

  'Sure. There's no food upstairs. Julia looks gaunt.'

  Robert didn't reply but got up and began to make the toast. He opened the fridge and set out a jar of marmalade and a jar of Marmite. Then he sat at the table. Jack leaned back in his chair. The chairs were of the small fifties metal and vinyl variety. Robert wondered if the chair would fold up under Jack's bulk. He got up again and fetched cutlery.

  Jack said, 'I wonder if I could ask you a kind of personal question?'

  Robert made a non-committal sound and sat down.

  'You were Elspeth's ...?' Boyfriend? Significant other? What do they call an unmarried lover here?

  'Yes.' I was Elspeth's. Creature is the word you're groping for. The toast popped up violently and startled them both. Robert put three pieces on Jack's plate and one on his own. He handed the plate to Jack. There was a pause while they each spread marmalade on toast. Neither of them spoke until Jack had finished his toast. Robert handed him the fourth, untouched piece. Jack thought, He seems very detached. Robert thought, I'm going to be sick.

  Jack poured himself a few fingers of whisky and added water. He began again. 'Did Elspeth ever tell you what happened between her and Edie?'

  Robert shook his head. That's not what I expected, mate. 'Not while she was alive. She left me all her personal papers, and in the papers were her diaries. And a letter to me, explaining some things.'

  'Ah. I don't suppose you'd let me look at any of it? The letter, maybe?'

  'Erm, you've seen Elspeth's will. She most particularly did not want you or her sister to have access to any of her papers.'

  'Uh-huh.' Jack ate the last piece of toast. Robert watched him. Jack said, 'I really just need the answer to one question. I know everything else.'

  'What's that, then?'

  'Why did they do it?'

  Robert said nothing.

  Jack said, 'I would like to know the point of this whole ... stupid game we've been playing all these years. Because, as far as I can tell, nobody was fooled, but for some reason we all have to go on pretending we don't know.'

  'Don't know what?'

  'Don't you know about the switch?'

  'I do, but according to Elspeth you don't.'

  'But she knew I knew. I mean, pregnancy really changed her body - apparently Edie was the only one who didn't realise ... Maybe this was all some weird thing Elspeth was doing to Edie? Look, I know you can't tell me anything,' Jack said. 'But what if I tell you the situation as I understand it? And you can just, you know, elevate your eyebrow a little when you hear something that makes sense. Could we do that?'

  'All right.'

  'Okay.' Jack sipped the whisky. 'I don't drink at this hour. Usually.'

  'No. I don't either.' Until recently. Robert poured some whisky for himself. He thought the smell might turn his stomach, but it didn't. He drank, cautiously. I love the smell of napalm in the morning.

  'So,' said Jack, 'it's 1983. Edie and Elspeth Noblin live together in a little flat in Hammersmith, in bohemian squalor and at great expense to their mother. The twins are recently down from Oxford, and I am working at the London branch of the bank I still work for. I am engaged to the woman we both know as Edie, but who back then was known as Elspeth. I'll stick to calling them by their current names, to avoid confusion.'

  'Okay.'

  'Elspeth - your Elspeth - was not fond of me at all. She wasn't actively hostile - she just did that British thing, you know, where somebody doesn't want to know you so they freeze you out. I don't think it was personal, but she knew where things were leading: I was going to take her twin to America. I don't know how much the twins issue affected your relationship with Elspeth--'

  'Not much. Edie was gone. Elspeth very rarely mentioned her. But Julia and Valentina have been educational.' Robert wondered what Julia had told her parents about his dealings with Valentina.

  'Well, the thing about twins: no one can ever replace the missing twin. I mean, Edie and I, we love Valentina - but Julia ... I don't know how she'll ...' Jack looked at his hands. Robert found it hard to breathe. 'Anyway. The twins - Edie and Elspeth - started acting weird. You never saw them together. They were a lot alike, but not as much as they thought they were. When they were impersonating each other there was always this extra thing, the acting, going on. I mean, you don't have to work at being yourself, but when one of the Noblin sisters was being the other, there was a noticeable smell of effort.

  'So Edie started to impersonate Elspeth - that is, my fiancee started pretending to be her sister - and she started coming on to me, which is something your Elspeth would never have done in a thousand years, because she genuinely disliked me, in that impersonal way she had.'

  'Why did she do that?'

  Jack shook his head. 'My wife has always been pretty insecure about herself. She was the weaker of the two, but over the years she's taken on some of her sister's personality. I think she was testing me, to see what I would do.'

  'So what did you do?'

  'I got mad. Then I made a big mistake. I played along with it.'

  'Ah.'

  'Indeed. So, yadda, yadda ... things got complicated. I'm ninety-nine per cent sure the woman standing next to me at the wedding was Edie. My Edie, you know what I mean. The switch happened when we got on the plane to Chicago.'

  Robert imagined Elspeth sitting next to Jack on a plane. 'Elspeth was terribly afraid of flying.'

  'They both were. That's why Edie and I didn't come over to visit the girls, though it seems crazy, now. That isn't what tipped me off.' Robert waited for him to elaborate. Instead Jack said, 'Please - the answer must be in Elspeth's papers. Why else would she be so hell-bent on keeping them away from us?'

  Robert said, 'But I don't understand - what is it you're hoping to find out? Elspeth was pregnant, you were the father - it seemed obvious to them, in their self-absorbed way, that they should just trade identities and everything would be fine.'

  Jack said, 'I never slept with Elspeth.'

  Robert thought, My brain is going to explode. 'Stay there,' he said. He got up and went to the servant's room, found the last box of diaries with Elspeth's letter and carried it all to the kitchen. He extracted a diary and paged through it until he located the entry. 'April Fool's Day, 1983,' he said, and handed the diary to Jack. 'At a party, in Knightsbridge. You were drunk. I think the joke was supposed to be on Edie, somehow.'

  Jack held the diary at arm's length, reading. 'She doesn't mention my name.'

  Robert replied, 'They wrote the diaries together.' He leaned over Jack and pointed to the entry just below the first one. 'That's Edie's reply.'

  Damn you. Can't I have anything of my own? Jack read. He looked up, confused.

  Robert said, 'They tried to make it right, but they didn't understand what would be involved. I can't imagine they wanted t
o hurt you.'

  'No,' said Jack. 'I just happened to be there.' He put the diary on the table and closed his eyes, pressed his lips together. Robert thought, He didn't know he really was their dad. Oh God. He thought of Valentina, and felt helpless, furious. Robert was unable to speak. Finally he gestured at the other diaries and said, 'You're welcome to look through all that.'

  Jack replied, 'No, thank you. I found out what I needed to know.' Jack stood up, disorientated and a little buzzed. They looked at each other and then away, mutually unsure suddenly on how to proceed.

  Robert said, 'I'll see you at Lauderdale House.'

  'Yeah. Um ... thanks.' Jack lumbered off. Robert heard him treading slowly up the stairs. A door opened and closed. Robert got his wallet and keys and went out to buy flowers.

  Valentina's funeral was held at Lauderdale House, a sixteenth-century manor where Nell Gwyn had once lived, which now functioned as an art gallery/wedding hall/cafe. Her funeral was in the big upstairs room where the figure drawing and yoga classes usually met. The room was half-timbered and half-unfinished, as though the carpenters' elevenses had lasted several decades. The coffin stood at the front of the room on trestles, covered in white roses. Folding chairs filled the rest of the space. Julia sat between her parents in the front row, staring out of the window. She remembered a story someone had told them about Nell Gwyn dangling her baby from one of the windows at Lauderdale House. Julia couldn't remember why this had happened, or which window.

  The coffin was white, with simple steel fittings. Sebastian moved around the room, placing a water pitcher and empty glasses at the podium, depositing a newly arrived wreath at the front of the coffin. Julia thought he was like a butler in his super-efficiency and preternatural tranquillity. I've never met a butler. Sebastian glanced at Julia as though he knew she was thinking about him and gave her a calm smile. I'm going to cry, and if I start I'm not going to stop. She wanted to disappear. Sebastian put a box of tissues next to the podium. He does this all the time, as a job. Julia had never thought of death as something that would happen to her, or to people she knew. All those people in the cemetery were just stones, names, dates. LOVING MOTHER. DEVOTED HUSBAND. Elspeth was a parlour trick; she had never been really real to Julia. Valentina is in that box. It couldn't be true.

  I want to be haunted, thought Julia. Haunt me, Mouse. Come and put your arms around me. We'll sit together and write our secrets with the planchette. Or, if you can't do that, just look at me. That's all I need. Where are you? Not here. But I can't feel you gone either. You're my phantom limb, Mouse. I keep looking for you. I forget. I feel stupid, Mouse. Haunt me, find me, come back from wherever you are. Be with me. I'm afraid.