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The Elder Man

Page 25

by Katherine Wyvern


  The new flat was supposed to be a new start, yet here she was, still alone, still uncertain where to go from here. To be or not to be? she thought. It came to her from Hamlet, of course, that is the question, but then it morphed into Diana Krall’s gorgeous contralto voice, and from a tiny Hamlet prompt, “Let’s Fall in Love” started playing in her mind. Almost anything took the shape of a song in Julia’s head, soon or late. Usually sooner rather than later.

  To be or not to be… And indeed, it would not be such a bad thing to fall in love, would it? I am still sort of young-ish, right? And there’s no need to be scared of it, is there?

  She hummed quietly to herself while she waited for the lift to appear, but, honestly, there was a scarcity of people willing to be fallen in love with, and very good reason to be terrified of it in any case, not to mention that Julia didn’t feel as young as all that anymore. Is forty-two too late for romantic antics? she wondered, and she was half inclined to answer, yes.

  When the lift did arrive—it was the slowest lift in the world—the odd girl from six doors down stepped out of it. Odd, as if I were in any position, thought Julia with a touch of grim humor, but the girl was odd, and no mistake.

  Nina. Abbie had told her the girl’s name was Nina. Abbie knew everyone in the building, and could tell each life’s story in five sentences, with a wickedly vindictive turn of phrase at times. But she had never quite got ‘round to explaining Nina. When Julia had asked, she had only hesitated and shaken her head with a little frown. There was some unhappy tale in it, for sure.

  Julia gave the girl a small nod and a smile. It was the best thing to do, she had discovered. Talking to Nina only made her nervous. Julia had never met anyone so keen to remain unnoticed.

  She was bundled into the usual bizarre and haphazard collection of clothes she always wore. Faded workman blues five sizes too big for her, like her clownish boots. It would have been comical if it had not been so sad. Some girls like to dress as boys, and that’s fine, but Nina did not really dress like a boy. She merely holed up into her clothes like a squirrel in a pine tree. A pity. There was a cute little face in that pine tree, under a close-cropped, almost shaved scalp. The scalp was the most shocking thing.

  The first time Julia had seen her, she had taken her for a boy, some churlish, famished urchin dressed in some poor-man version of a rapper’s kit. She had had a bit of a scare that day, gang boys and teens in general being the worst nuisance she had ever encountered. The thought of having one in the building, just six doors down from her flat, gave her the creeps. She must have regarded the poor girl in some pretty forbidding way, judging by the shocked look on her face. Afterwards, when she had realized how things were, she had felt sorry for it. She always made a point of smiling to Nina now, hoping to make up for that first blunder, some day.

  There was something exotic, vaguely gipsy-ish about Nina. The stubble on her fragile, cropped head was dark, and she had smoky brown eyes, wary, guarded, but very beautiful. They would have been breathtaking with a smidge of makeup around them.

  As Nina scurried out of the door and Julia stepped in, she caught a glimpse of the both of them in the mirror that lined the back of the lift. The top of Nina’s head reached no higher than her shoulder if at all, and as they crossed in the door, the girl looked up at her like a boy looking for a lost kite in the sky. Julia felt impossibly and awkwardly tall, as she invariably did, to this day, in the vicinity of short people. It was rather embarrassing, in fact. In her youth, she had worn flat shoes and walked in a contrite, hunched way that had made her look even more gawky. In time, she had come to the conclusion that flat shoes in her size bore a sinister resemblance to canoe boats, and that however much she hunched down, she’d still be six feet tall in her socks.

  “So I’m a tall lass,” she had finally decided, “well, sue me.” And she had thrown all her flats out, taught herself to walk in heels like a pro, and started strutting her stuff. Life had improved quite a bit after that. It was not perfect, but it had improved.

  End of sample chapter

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