The Girl Who Lived Twice

by Tina Clough

  James laughed out loud, relieved and amazed, and took her glass to replace it. He was usually uncomfortable with scenes and conflict, but this was different. More like a choreographed fight and he had enjoyed it. Behind him the room resumed its buzz with a slightly forced determination.

  Her Next-door looked at Mia with open admiration. “My God, that was brilliant - stunning! Mia, you’ve really surprised me.”

  The rest of the evening was like countless other large and casual dinner evenings at Sarah and James’s, but for Mia there was an additional frisson of excitement. Those she knew gradually and deliberately circulated towards her. She felt unsure of how many of them just wanted more fodder for gossip and how many wanted to genuinely commiserate and congratulate her on having taken action. But in the end, it did not matter what their motivation was. It gave her useful opportunities to add detail to her tale. Those who had known about Greg’s affair would no longer find her such a pathetic object and they would all tell others.

  Gretchen, who had been one of Sarah’s bridesmaids, was openly delighted and made no bones saying so. “I know Barb’s been your best friend for years, Mia, but good on you for showing her up in public! For her to have the cheek to turn up here as if nothing had happened, it’s just incredible!”

  “Well, you know what really stuck in my throat? It was how she wrote sympathetic emails to me from the UK after Greg died, really dishonest. But I didn’t feel I could tackle her before we met face to face somehow. I suppose it seemed more appropriate for some reason - I can’t quite figure it out myself!”

  “Oh, I can completely understand that. And very effective to do it in front of an audience, not to mention how brave. I nearly heard a drum roll as she walked out.”

  There were others who echoed Gretchen’s sentiments as the evening wore on and Mia began to feel that word would spread quickly and effectively along the information networks of this particular group of people. The more people who found out the better! Gradually she relaxed into the new role she had created. The feeling of being in charge of her destiny carried her over some sticky moments when one gossip-vulture wanted to find out just how humiliated she had been and what had been said in the messages on Greg’s phone.

  Lovely food was piled on the dining table, people sat or stood to eat it, some drank little and some drank too much. As at most parties there was a couple who had an argument about whose turn it was to drive home while the others pretended not to notice. Sudden bursts of laughter would erupt and every now and then someone’s voice would be heard, too loud, in a little interlude of silence - it all seemed amazingly normal. Mia noticed Sarah glancing at her now and then, wondering and speculating. Mia smiled whenever she caught her eye and continued acting as if nothing had happened.

  When the last guests had left Mia helped Sarah and James take the last plates and glasses to the kitchen, where The Kid Next-door - 14 years old and constantly thirsting for money - was tidying and washing up, intent on getting done, getting paid and going home. The kitchen had such minimal bench space that the debris from a big dinner would have been unmanageable without someone clearing the decks as the evening progressed.

  Mia reflected once again that it really needed a complete makeover; it was practically the same as when Sarah and Mia’s parents had bought the house about 30 years ago. It was not just the lack of bench space, but the cupboards above the bench were still too high to be practical and the pantry door still opened the wrong way.

  “Sarah you should tear this kitchen out and start from scratch! I don’t know how you can produce the sort of huge feasts you always do with no mod cons and hardly any bench space.”

  “Oh, it doesn’t really worry me.” Sarah’s voice floated back from the pantry, where she was putting things away. ”I’ll think about it after the summer, can’t be bothered now. But I must admit that I do grumble about it now and then. It’s not as if we can’t afford to do it, it’s just the thought of how awful it will be to live with the mess!”

  James came in from the dining room with a tray full of glasses. “I don’t think it needs to be that bad, you know. Brian at work said that when they had their kitchen revamped everything was made off site and then delivered ready to install. It took about a week to have the old stuff ripped out and the floor done and then the new things were brought in and the job was finished in a couple of days.”

  “OK, I’ll start planning it during the summer,” was all Sarah said, but she winked at Mia as she said it. Mia smiled. Is there a little game going on here? Wonder who really wants the kitchen, James or Sarah?

  Finally the house was tidy enough, The Kid Next-door had been paid and left. Sarah looked hard at Mia. “OK, time to tell us! When did you find out?”

  For a split second Mia considered saying that she had only just found out, but then ironic reality caught up with her. Not only was there a psychological advantage in Sarah telling everyone that Mia had known since before Greg died, but it was also literally true that she had known “for ages”.

  “Look you two,” she said, in control of her voice and hopefully of her face. “I’ve known for quite some time now. And I would have confronted him about it. I’m not being conceited, but I think he would have ended the affair once he knew that I’d found out. I don’t think he would have gone off with Barb, when she returned from the UK.”

  She waited for their response. She could nearly read Sarah’s mind, processing the pros and cons of admitting that she and James had known and then deciding that now was not the moment.

  “Let’s not get too involved in the details tonight.” Mia needed a bit of distance on the evening before having an in-depth discussion with Sarah. “I’m really tired. I don’t think I should have had two big glasses of that lovely red after feeling queasy for more than half of last night and then not eating enough during the day! I’ll get a taxi home and leave the car here. Enough upheavals last night and tonight to last me a while.”

  She smiled to herself; upheaval was a poor description of that earthquake-like sensation in the night when Time had moved. Sarah and James smiled back, but slightly uncertainly – they’ll be talking in bed tonight, thought Mia. They have some decisions to make about what they tell me about Greg, and they won’t be on the same track, if I know them!

  James tried to persuade Mia to stay the night, but she was determined to go home. “I’ll come and pick up the car tomorrow, or if you come into town perhaps one of you could bring it, if I leave you the keys?”

  Fifteen minutes later Mia was in a taxi heading for the Harbour Bridge, speculating about the future. What would tonight bring? Would something happen to put her back in August 2007? And if it did, would tonight’s event have changed the future for her in That Time? Or would she find herself in yet another time? Could there be others in the same situation? Had she unknowingly met people in That Time, who had been snatched from wherever they should rightly be? And if she was now in 2006, was there another Mia continuing a different existence in 2007, completely ignorant of this Mia in the time warp world of the past?

  There were no answers and maybe there never would be, but somehow she felt calmer and less scared. I’ll go along for the ride for as long as it lasts – I have nothing to lose.

  Mia opened her eyes and lay quite still for a moment looking at the ceiling wondering what year she was in. She caught a glimpse of the new dress through the half-open wardrobe door; it was still 2006! Relief surged through her and she smiled. She was safe, if only for another day. The thought of waking up one morning and finding herself back in 2007 filled her with dread. However uncertain her existence was in This Time it was preferable to what her life had been in That Time.

  When she got home the previous evening she had grabbed the pad on the kitchen bench and stood there for a few minutes scribbling down some of the questions that had occurred to her in the taxi. There was no way of finding out if logic as she knew it applied to her situation. What she most wanted to find out was if there was someon
e else who had experienced the time shift on Thursday night, or perhaps even at some earlier time. And if she could find someone who had, would they know more than she did?

  Mia jumped out of bed to get dressed and be ready for the day, even though it was only 7.15. She had to cram as much as possible into this weekend, before the working week began again on Monday. First a shower, then coffee! She had developed a habit of talking to herself – somehow her thoughts gained clarity when she heard the words spoken aloud. She smiled to herself. It was just like grandma always said: “When I talk to myself I know I’ll get a sensible answer.”

  Standing in the shower she relished the feeling of unaccustomed power that the events last night had given her. She had a sense of urgency, of wanting to get on with it. Thoughts followed each other in a continuous flow. She stood in the stream of water with her eyes closed and allowed ideas to fly through the space of her mind.

  How can I find out if there is someone else like me? Will I be able to cope at work on Monday? Do I still exist elsewhere in another time-line? I wonder if what I change in this time strand will continue developing here, even if I slide sideways into yet another time? Or are the strands not parallel; is it just one and I have been literally moved back within that strand? If I get snapped back to 2007, will I remember all that happened in this version of 2006? Have a changed the future there? Am I in a coma and dreaming?

  By the time she was dressed and waiting for the water to boil for coffee, her mind had settled down. She knew that the jumbled thoughts and ideas would return and might never be answered. Determined to be businesslike and tackle things one by one, she got out her note pad again and sat down at the desk in the study. Mia jotted down random thoughts in no particular order, checked them against last night’s scrawled notes from the kitchen, consulted her lists from yesterday, crossed things out and considered the result again. The best bet might be to identify what was most urgent and important, put them in some sort of order and tackle them one by one. The risk of running around in mental circles was always there in the margin of her musings. There were so many speculative thoughts and ideas that it was hard to follow any given line of thought. After a considerable time of drawing arrows and numbering various things a pattern began to emerge, and she was tapping her pen against her front teeth, deep in thought, when the phone rang.

  “Hope I didn’t wake you,” said Sarah, not sounding in the least troubled by the thought. “I couldn’t wait another second! Last night was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. James is knocked sideways with admiration for how cool you were, and I’m dying of curiosity - my mind’s buzzing. I have to find out what on earth is behind all this and how you got styled up so fast, and who helped you?”

  Mia smiled – this was exactly what she had expected. “Sorry Sarah! I can’t talk right now, I just got out of the shower and my hair is dripping.” Hopefully the gods would forgive her this little white lie for the sake of convenience.

  “How about you come over a bit later? Give me time to go out and get something we can have for lunch - unless you and James have something planned? No? Great, I’ll see you two soon then!”

  “OK, I’ll be there about eleven. Don’t know if James will come, but wild horses couldn’t keep me away. I’ll drive your car to town and if James doesn’t drive in at the same time he can pick me up later.”

  Mia went back to her lists over coffee and toast and started again. The floor round the dining table was littered with screwed-up paper. What was evolving was a short list of practical things and on another page a much longer list of questions to consider and conjectures to pursue. She knew now that asking for help had no place in the plan. The first three items were clear: To think of a way to find out if this happened to others, get prepared to cope at work on Monday, and plan how to cash in on the advantages gained last night. I’m going to look at this as a marketing assignment – I have to create and sell a product called The New Mia. The product must have credibility, good packaging, capture the target market and satisfy the consumers. The key to all this is research.

  Reverting to the list of priority items she could only think of two ways to find other time-shift victims – either advertise in the newspapers or search for websites devoted to aliens and time travel. She felt a complete aversion to the website idea. That sort of site will be full of weir-does and crazy people. How would I possibly know if they’re genuine? God knows I might end up with some lunatic I can’t get rid of, the sort of crazy person who really believes in time travel..

  And then the mad humour of it struck her and she laughed till she nearly cried, slightly hysterical. Was time travel not what she herself had experiencing? But her sensible self from That Time still insisted that time travel was nonsense – she was trapped in an oxymoron of a situation and she found it hard to get her head round her own conflicting view points. I can’t even start to explain it to myself. How on earth could I convince someone else that it’s true and that I’m not delusional? Because I’m not mad - I’m still the same person, but with an overlay of something else, but not crazy! I don’t know how to reconcile these two aspects, I’ll just have to accept it and carry on and see what happens. I’ll advertise though - on Monday I’ll put an ad in the NZ Herald. I’ll write the text today and ask for replies by email to prevent the crazies from tracking me down in person. And I must start a list of events that I can use as proof, things I know will happen.

  And thinking of Monday reminded her of the need to prepare for work and the need to know exactly what was going on and what had been expected of her at this precise time a year ago. It would need a lot more intense preparation than going to Sarah’s place last night. She would tackle this as soon as Sarah had been and gone. She knew Sarah would not be able to wait until eleven; she was so curious that her craving for information would compel her to come as soon as she could. Mia set out to get supplies for lunch and returned with bits and pieces from the deli, croissants from the bakery and the weekend paper. Last night had given her confidence a real boost - if something unexpected came up over lunch she felt sure she would be able to handle it.

  But when the entry phone buzzed and Mia pressed the button to let Sarah in, she had a sudden attack of nerves. What if she could not keep up the deception and Sarah got hold of the true story – was she ready to reveal what had happened and how would she present the story? Would Sarah decide she was crazy and insist that she sought medical help? Would she panic? Was there even the remotest chance that she would believe the story?

  These thoughts flashed through her head as she went to open her front door and by the time she got there the lift was just arriving at her landing. This was not the time to change her plans. Sarah would have to be kept in ignorance for now. Mia hoped to be granted a bit more time to find her footing and feel secure, before she had to share the truth with anyone. Sarah was talking even as the lift doors opened and by the time they closed the apartment door behind them there was already a backlog of questions to answer.

  “Hang on Sarah! Not so much all at once, let’s get ourselves a cup of coffee and sit down.”

  Sarah hovered while Mia made the coffee, commenting on the outfit Mia had worn the night before, the impression she had made and how amazed everyone had been when Barb walked out.

  “I’ve had three calls this morning already. They’re stunned by the way you tackled Barb. I must say though, that I think Vicky already knew about the Greg and Barb thing - she let something slip and then she tried to backtrack and wouldn’t tell me any details.”

  “I’m sure lots of people knew.” Mia made her voice sound calmer than she felt and hesitated about how far to go. “As I said yesterday, I’d known for quite a while myself, but when I heard those messages on his phone – well, that was pretty devastating. I couldn’t just leave it unresolved. I had to reclaim my moral territory, if you know what I mean? And I felt that I needed others to know that I had confronted Barb too.”

  They spent the next half hour talkin
g about Barb’s treachery and what people at the party had said the previous evening. Sarah speculated on Mia’s continued relationship with Barb. “Do you think she’ll apologise and you can have some sort of friendship again?

  “Oh no, there’s no way that I ever want to speak to her again! Apologies can’t fix this. I’m just going to move on and write her off. I’m sure some people we know will stay friends with her and that’s fine. I’ll just stop seeing them as well.”

  Sarah was looking intently at Mia as she was speaking. ‘Is this really my quiet little sister? This whole thing coming to a climax had certainly snapped her out of grief mode and not only that; she seemed to have gained a new strength.’

  Sarah listened closely and began to feel that Mia today was stronger and far more self-assured than she had ever been – perhaps this whole tragedy and the way she had decided to tackle it had brought out a hidden core of strength?

  Mia suddenly decided to change the topic. She grinned at Sarah. “Would you like to see what else I bought, when I had my big expensive revamp day? Or shall we have lunch first?”

  She was not going to tell Sarah that it was only yesterday that she had done all the shopping and had her makeup lesson. Sarah was instantly keen. “Oh, yes please, show me now and we’ll have lunch later.” Then a sudden thought occurred to her and she said contritely: “God, I’m so sorry to go on like this! It’s not as if all this does away with your grief – you’re still grieving!”

  Mia gave her a reassuring look. “It’s OK - truly, it is. Now that I’ve done my thing with Barb I feel that I can move on. It’s something I’ve needed to do for some time. What I can grieve for now is what Greg and I used to have, and I can handle that.”

  She hoped she made it sound reasonable seeing that telling Sarah that it’s actually fourteen months since Greg died was out of the question for now. They had a lovely session looking at Mia’s new clothes, discussing styles and examining every single makeup product she had bought. Sarah picked over the little tubes and bottles and wanted to know what each one was for.