Her Fearful Symmetry

by Audrey Niffenegger

  'Are you moving out?' she asked.

  'Yes, slowly,' said Robert. 'I can't bear to be here alone, somehow.'

  He led her through the flat to the servant's room. It was almost bare except for a number of boxes filled with ledgers, photographs and other papers.

  'Elspeth left me these,' he said. 'Do you want them?'

  Edie didn't move. She stood with her arms crossed protectively, looking at the boxes. 'Did you read them?' she asked.

  'Some of them,' he said. 'I thought they might mean more to you.'

  'I don't want them,' Edie said. She looked at him. 'Will you burn them for me?'

  'Burn them?'

  'If it were up to me I'd have a big bonfire and burn the lot. All the furniture too. Elspeth even kept our bed, from when we were kids; I couldn't believe it when I walked into her bedroom and saw it.'

  Robert said, 'It's a pretty bed. I always liked it.'

  Edie said, 'Will you burn these for me?'

  'Yes.'

  'Thank you.' She smiled. Robert had not seen her smile before; the effect was painfully Elspeth-like. She turned and he followed her back through the flat. At his door he said, 'Is Julia going to stay here?'

  'Yes,' said Edie. 'We thought she might want to come home, but she won't. She seems to feel that she's somehow abandoning Valentina if she leaves the flat.' Edie frowned. 'She's become very superstitious.'

  Robert said, 'That's understandable.'

  Edie paused. 'Thanks again; you've been very kind. I can see why Elspeth and Valentina both cared for you.'

  Robert shook his head. 'I'm sorry--'

  'It's all right,' Edie said. 'It's going to be all right.'

  Later, after the Poole family had gone out, Robert lugged the boxes into the back garden and burned everything in them, piece by piece. Edie saw the scorched area on the moss the next morning and was glad.

  On an overcast day in mid-July, Jack and Edie sat together on the plane to Chicago, waiting for take-off. She'd had two drinks before they boarded, but that hadn't helped much. Sweat streamed down her back, armpits, forehead. Jack offered his hand and she gripped it. 'Steady,' he said.

  'I'm so daft.' She shook her head.

  Jack took a calculated risk. 'Not you, Elspeth love.'

  The plane began to move. She was so surprised to hear her own name that she could only gape at him. She almost forgot to be afraid as they were lifted into the sky and London receded under them. 'How long have you known?' she asked him once the plane had levelled itself.

  'Years,' he said.

  She said, 'I thought you'd leave me ...'

  'Never,' he said.

  'I'm sorry,' she said. 'I am so, so sorry.' She began to cry, the kind of messy, hiccuping, uncontrollable weeping that she had always refused to allow herself - a lifetime's worth of crying. Jack watched her and wondered what would come of it. The flight attendant hurried over with a small packet of tissues. 'Oh God, I'm making a spectacle of myself,' Edie said at last.

  'That's okay,' Jack said. 'This is a plane full of Americans. No one will mind. They're all watching the movie.' He raised the armrest between them and she leaned into him, feeling empty and strangely content.

  REDUX

  JULIA WOKE UP late and confused after a night of bad dreams. Edie and Jack had reluctantly gone back to Lake Forest two days earlier. Julia had been relieved to see them go, but now the flat was too quiet; she seemed to be the only person left in Vautravers. Since it was Sunday, she pulled on yesterday's clothes (which were also the clothes of the day before and the day before that) and walked to the corner shop near the bus stop to buy the Observer. When she came back there was a large motorcycle blocking the path to Vautravers. Julia edged around it with annoyance. She walked back to the gate and into the house without realising that she was being watched.

  She made tea and opened a packet of chocolate digestives. She poured milk into the tea and arranged everything on a tray along with her cigarettes and carried it into the dining room. The ghost of the Kitten was curled up on top of the newspaper, one eye open and the other closed. Julia set the tray down on the table and reached right through the Kitten, plucked the paper off the table and began to separate the sections. The Kitten looked reproachful and began to lick her nether parts with one leg stuck up in the air. She vaguely resembled a cello player, but Julia couldn't see the Kitten, so she didn't make her usual joke about it.

  Julia spread out the newspaper and ate a biscuit. She idly wondered where Elspeth was and what she was doing; Julia hadn't noticed any sign of her in weeks, beyond the occasional cold patch of air and quivering light bulbs. As Julia read each section she did not bother to refold it: the Mouse was not here; the Mouse was not going to read the paper or be aggravated by Julia's selfishness. Julia lit a cigarette. The Kitten made a face and jumped off the table.

  Somewhat later Julia had finished the Observer and was smoking her fourth cigarette when she heard sounds. The sounds were so much like footsteps that she tilted her head back and stared at the ceiling, which was where the sounds came from. Martin? Was Martin back? Julia ground out her cigarette in the dregs of her tea and ran from the dining room onto the landing and up the stairs without thinking.

  The door to Martin's flat stood ajar. Julia's heart accelerated. She walked into the flat.

  She stood still, listening. The flat was silent. Julia heard birds singing outside. The boxes and plastic containers were still dusty in the dimness. Julia wondered if she should call out; then she thought that it might not be Martin after all. She stood undecided, remembering that first night, when Martin had woken them up with his deluge and she had found him scrubbing the bedroom floor. It was so long ago; it had been winter then. Now it was summer. Julia slowly, silently walked through Martin's rooms. All was stillness. Most of the windows were still blacked out with newspaper. Some windows were clear and daylight streamed through them; the newspapers lay where she had thrown them. Julia crept through the parlour and the dining room. In the kitchen someone had left a beer cap and an opener on the counter. Julia couldn't remember Martin drinking in the morning, but then she wondered if it was still morning; she'd gotten up so late.

  She crossed the hall and looked into Martin's office. There was a tall, angular young man standing at Martin's desk, reading a piece of paper which he held to the light. The tableau reminded Julia of a Vermeer painting. The young man had his back to Julia. He was wearing jeans, a black T-shirt and motorcycle boots. His hair was longish and darkish. As he read he sighed and raked his fingers through his hair. If Julia had ever met Marijke, that sigh, that gesture, would have told her who she was looking at. As it was, she had no clue until he turned and she saw his face.

  'Oh!' Julia said. The young man started. They stared at each other for a moment, then Julia said, 'I'm sorry,' and the young man said, 'Who are you?' at the same time.

  'I'm Julia Poole. I live downstairs. I heard footsteps ...' He was looking at her curiously. Julia realised what he must see: an unwashed, too-thin, stringy-haired girl in ratty clothes. 'Who are you?'

  'I'm Theo Wells. Martin and Marijke's son. I haven't heard from Dad in over two weeks. Or Mum. They're usually so ... communicative. They haven't been answering their phones. And now I come here and he's gone. Do you understand how peculiar that is, that he should be gone? I can't ... I don't understand it.'

  Julia smiled. 'He went to Amsterdam to find your mom.'

  Theo shook his head. 'He walked out of the flat voluntarily? He got on a bus or a train? No. The last time I saw him I had trouble coaxing him out of the bathroom.'

  'He got better. He took medicine and he gradually got better. He went to find Marijke.'

  Theo sat down at Martin's desk. Julia could not get over how much he resembled Martin: younger, less hunched, larger in his movements, but still so like Martin in his face and hands. Genes are strange. She had always thought so. She wondered if he was like Martin in other, less conventional ways.

  Theo said, 'He hated t
aking antidepressants. He was afraid of the side effects. We tried to talk him into it. He always refused.' Theo passed his hands over his face and Julia wondered if she and Valentina had affected people like this, if they were unable to see one without thinking of the other. This is what the Mouse hated so much. The layering, the intertwining. When someone looked at her and saw me. Julia looked at Theo and saw Martin. This excited her.

  'He didn't know. I tricked him.' She couldn't tell if Theo approved of this or not. He seemed lost in thought. 'Is that your motorcycle?' she asked.

  'Hmm? Yes.'

  'Can I have a ride?'

  Theo smiled. 'How old are you?'

  'Old enough.' Julia blushed. He thinks I'm, like, twelve. 'I'm your age.'

  He raised both eyebrows. 'I am,' she said.

  'Prove it, then.'

  'Stay here,' Julia ordered. 'Do not leave without me.'

  'No worries, I have to pick up a few things. If I can find them,' Theo said, glancing at the boxes.

  Julia raced downstairs. She stripped off her clothes and showered, then stood in Elspeth's closet, confused. What would Valentina wear? No, forget that. What would I wear? She emerged clad in jeans, Elspeth's chocolate suede high-heeled boots and a pink T-shirt. She put on lipstick, blow-dried her hair and went back upstairs.

  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 motorcycle 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 J
ulia'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.'

  'East Sussex.'

  Robert said, 'Why Sussex?'

  'It's pretty. We could live in Lewes and walk on the Downs every Sunday afternoon. Why not?'

  'We don't know anyone there.'

  'Precisely.'

  Robert got up and began pacing again, forgetting that Elspeth had just asked him not to do this. 'Maybe we should confess. Then we could live in my flat, and eventually things would be normal again.'

  Elspeth just looked at him. You are barking mad. After a moment Robert said, 'I suppose not.'

  'We could get a little cottage. You could finish your thesis.'

  'How the hell am I supposed to finish my thesis when I can't go to the cemetery?' he yelled.

  'Why can't you go to the cemetery?' Elspeth asked quietly. She felt the baby kick.

  'Jessica saw you,' he said. 'What am I supposed to tell her?'

  Elspeth frowned. 'Tell her as much of the truth as you can. And let her sort it out. There's no reason to lie, just omit a few things.'