by Joe Heap
They kiss.
All the invisible doors slam shut. A choice has been made. The inside of Kate’s skull fizzes with secret energy. She breaks away, suddenly uncertain.
‘I’m sorry, I—’
‘Ssh.’ Nova puts a finger to her mouth.
Kate’s hands are shaking so much, she finds it hard to undo the five buttons on Nova’s high-waisted jeans. The interpreter smiles at her huff of frustration, pulls her close and kisses her neck. Kate exhales.
Nova feels for Kate’s shirt, moving methodically down the row of faux mother-of-pearl buttons. She lifts the shirt off very carefully, like a cape, then shrugs out of her T-shirt and jeans in milliseconds. They hug – just hug – for a moment, pressing skin to skin.
Together they fall back into the softness of the bed, further undressing each other. Kate looks at the cotton chrysalis she has made around them and thinks, briefly, of caterpillars changing into butterflies.
Everything is bright. Kate’s hands hover for a moment, no more undressing to do, unsure of their purpose. They are naked. Nova places one hand on her back, moves in to kiss Kate again, and the moment passes. There is no more uncertainty in Kate. She’s like water running downhill, pure motion. Eyes closed, the room hums with light, stained soft colours by the cotton sheets. Nova leads Kate in this new dance, but Kate follows close behind.
After a few minutes have passed, Nova opens her eyes and sees, rather than closeness, a vertiginous depth. Before, she has only guessed at depth – she knows that the desk is against the wall, and the chair is against the desk, and that these things are separate, next to one another. But for her everything is on one plane, two-dimensional. Shapes and shadows and colours are the only clues as to how one object is separate from another. Looking through one eye is the same as looking through two.
Until now.
Her eyes have joined together. Instead of being individuals, they move in unison, different angles of the same vision. As suddenly as that, in addition to height and width, she sees depth.
RULE OF SEEING NO.269
Before, if you thought about seeing depth, you thought about the Grand Canyon, or looking out to sea. But depth can be intimate – the contours of a body, the wrinkles of a world in miniature.
Their bodies are two landscapes, stretching in front of Nova, one brown and one pink. The distance to their toes seems so great that it would take a day’s walk to reach them. There is no sky above either landscape, only a mirror-image of the first. There is no up or down, only above and below, changing places again and again. When she can take no more, she closes her eyes, returning to the comforting closeness, the smell of Kate’s shampoo, her soft hands.
Finally, they rest, with no space between them.
They lie there for a long time, still except for their breath, rising and falling in unison. Kate isn’t sure if she can even breathe out of step – their lungs have merged into one. No words come to her. Not even the stuff before words, the shapes of ideas. If she were able to form the thought, she might say she has stepped out of her own life.
With each embrace there was a mirror embrace, with every pleasure a mirror pleasure, until eventually she was no longer sure which side of the mirror she was standing on. Kate ceased to be Kate, and Nova ceased to be Nova, and they were two mirror images, spinning around each other.
Her reflection kisses her on the cheek, and asks something she doesn’t hear.
‘Sorry?’
‘I said, are you okay?’ asks the reflection.
‘Yes.’
‘I can’t read your face.’ The mirror girl seems worried. Kate puts her arms around her, draws her close, and presses her lips to her temple. She feels Nova’s skin crinkle into a smile.
(Yes, Nova – not Kate, but Nova.)
‘Okay, then. Good.’ Nova kisses back for a moment, then slumps back onto the pillow.
Kate is quiet. She knows what Nova was asking, but doesn’t know how to answer – she doesn’t know whether it had been good or bad. It was beyond good or bad. For a second, everything felt infinite – the world stretching out around them like deep space. Part of her wants to return to that feeling. Another part of her is scared. Scared to be a tiny drop in an endless ocean.
Later, they order Chinese take-away. Only when the food takes an hour and a half to arrive do they remember it’s New Year’s Eve.
Inside the tent they eat vegetable dumplings with cherry sauce, strips of chilli-fried pork and piles of fried rice. Nova still hasn’t got the hang of looking at the food she’s eating. There is a gap between the pleasant smells she knows and the grotesque blobs and slicks in front of her. But the colours of this food are excitingly vivid, even if she still closes her eyes at the moment of consumption.
For the time being she’s optimistic – of course she will learn to see. Why not? Miraculous things have happened in this room. In one evening she has learned to see in 3D. When she emerged from the fort, she thought for a moment that the new sense had deserted her as quickly as it had arrived. That stereo vision could be dissipated by an orgasm. But she’s just getting used to it – it’s becoming subtler. As she looks from the tent to the television, every object has its place on a plane that she never knew existed before.
While the things she sees are often mysterious, they have gained a useful separation. Separation is the mark of progress – the more separate things become, the more she understands. She has come from a single blur of light to a panorama of shapes, with their own outlines, and colours, and positions in space. Like the early victory of being able to grasp the red ball, this improvement opens a sense of hope – a sense that maybe she can keep getting better, and needn’t lose her mind in the process.
She can do it, with Kate by her side.
Afterwards, they perform the bedtime rituals, taking turns to use the bathroom. Nova takes one of Kate’s T-shirts to wear. There is a muffled noise from the window like popcorn popping in the pan, and they go to see – New Year’s fireworks smatter the clear sky. Nova holds tight around Kate’s waist.
‘What do you think?’ Kate asks.
‘They’re like tinsel for the sky!’ Nova grins. ‘That’s just … mental.’
‘Yeah.’ Kate smiles, kissing the top of her head. ‘It really is.’
They crawl back inside the ridiculous fort, which Kate is ridiculously proud of, close the distance between their bodies once more, and sleep.
3
Objects
Twenty-Five
January
KATE WAKES UP. THE light in the room is gentle, and she squints out at her surroundings, disoriented. What bed is this? What room? What are these sheets hanging over her head? Slowly, she remembers the fort, then the day before.
She looks to the other side of the bed.
Nova is sleeping still, tangled in sheets, her hair a mess, her limbs spreading out in every direction. Kate realizes that she has retreated to the far edge of her side of the bed. She watches Nova sleeping for a few minutes and this time doesn’t feel guilty. Slowly, her eyes close again, and she dreams.
When Kate wakes again, someone is kissing her. For a moment, she thinks it must be Tony – her brain has been time-travelling while she slept, and she has woken up to a year in her past. But when did Tony ever kiss her awake? Kate opens her eyes and sees Nova, propped up on one elbow, looking down on her. Her hair is like a dark halo, her eyes crinkled in a smile. Kate still has the unnerving sensation that she’s looking into a mirror.
‘Happy New Year, string bean.’
‘You too. So … last night really happened?’
By way of reply, Nova kisses her on the nose, on the forehead, on both cheeks. Kate laughs and pushes her off so that they are lying side by side.
‘It wasn’t a dream,’ Kate says.
‘Nope. Is that okay?’ Nova asks, brushing her cheek.
‘You’re asking me that after you kissed me?’
Nova does a sideways shrug. ‘Just answer the question.’
‘Yes,’ she murmurs, ‘it’s very okay.’
‘Mmph. All right, I believe you,’ Nova moans. ‘Do you wanna go on a date with me?’
‘It’s eight in the morning.’
‘A breakfast date, then. The best kind!’ Nova pulls away and smiles winningly.
‘Okay … but we’ll need to wrap up warm.’
‘Mmm, you are so sensible.’ Nova growls, pouncing on her.
The waffle place is almost empty, and there’s music on the stereo, which Kate finds reassuring. It’s good to get away from the quiet of the flat. Most of the shops on the street are closed. It’s the morning of a new year and everyone is asleep. But this place is open for the stay-outs and stragglers. A girl in Day-Glo face paint is nursing a coffee in one corner. Two men in superhero costumes are slumped in a booth, waiting for their fried breakfasts. Kate and Nova fit right in, wearing yesterday’s clothes under big coats and woollens. They order coffee and waffles – a savoury plate for Kate, with scrambled eggs, and a giant, whipped-cream-and-banana-split confection for Nova.
‘Does it come with sparklers, like the picture?’
‘If you want, miss.’
‘Indeed I do, my good man.’
Nova reaches up and knights the waiter on both shoulders with the laminated menu, and he slouches back to the kitchen. They sit in silence for a minute, sipping their coffee and unbuttoning layers. Kate looks, disbelievingly, at the woman across from her. She is wearing jeans and a tight, black T-shirt. It has a picture of a lightbulb and the slogan – WATT IS LOVE? BABY DON’T HERTZ ME!
‘How do you always look so good?’ Kate blurts.
Nova blows a raspberry. ‘Flatterer!’
‘No, I mean, how do you always know what to wear? Did someone help you pick them out when you were blind?’
Nova puts her coffee down and holds up two fingers. ‘Two simple rules. Rule One – everything goes well with blue jeans. Rule Two – don’t give a fuck what anyone else thinks.’
‘That’s it?’
Nova picks up her coffee and slurps noisily. ‘Yup.’
Kate shakes her head, laughing. ‘I wish I could be more like you.’
‘Like how?’
‘You’re so … natural. It’s like you feel at home in the entire world. It’s like nothing bad has ever happened to you.’
Nova’s smile falters. ‘I grew up a mixed-race, blind gay girl, babe. Plenty of bad things happened to me.’
‘Oh, I didn’t mean …’ Kate takes her hand, and is about to say something more when their waffles arrive. Nova doesn’t look at Kate for a while, shovelling the pile of cream and waffles into her mouth. She doesn’t even comment on the sparklers.
Kate can feel Nova’s discomfort, like a knot in her shoulders, so she looks out of the window instead. When she looks back, Nova is looking right at her.
‘What?’
‘I’m just thinking about your face.’
‘What about my face?’ Kate’s nose wrinkles with suspicion.
‘Of all the faces I’ve seen, yours is the only one I understand.’
‘I’m … honoured?’
‘You should be. Have you heard of Plato’s theory of forms?’
‘Definitely not.’
‘Well, it’s pretty crazy – Plato had this idea that everything we see in the world is a reflection of some otherworldly, perfect form. So, if you see a horse in a field, it’s not the horse, just a horse. Your chair is just a shadow of the perfect chair, these waffles are just a reflection of the perfect waffles …’
‘That’s really dumb.’
‘Take it up with the dead Greek guy, babe. What I’m trying to say is – that’s what your face is like, to me. Your face is the face. The perfect face. All the others are just shadows.’
Kate’s eyebrows are arched high. For a moment, Nova thinks she’s said something wrong. ‘I’d kiss you, but we’re being watched by the waiter.’
Nova looks again – Kate’s face has changed colour.
‘I am never going to get tired of making you blush.’
It is the afternoon, and they’re back at the flat. Kate has showered and changed into washed-out denim dungarees and a long-sleeved peach top. She hasn’t worn the dungarees in years – Tony used to say that they made her look gangly. She shuffles into the kitchen, where Nova is trying to decipher the hieroglyphs on the microwave.
RULE OF SEEING NO.275
Sighted people get so good at recognizing shapes that they use them instead of words. They put pictures on toilets, road signs, bottles of bleach, no smoking areas, food mixers and hospitals. They never seem to get confused.
Nova turns and considers Kate.
‘Hey, there, string bean Jean.’
Kate tenses for a moment before Nova’s arms wrap around her.
‘You look cute. I like dungarees.’
‘Oh yeah?’
‘Yeah. They’re fun. They’re like trousers that don’t know when to stop.’
‘Thanks … I think.’
Nova sits at the kitchen table while Kate walks around. Her nerves are catching up with her again.
‘Are you sure you want to do this?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s just, you seem quite … pacey.’
Kate sighs and puts her back against the worktop. ‘Yeah, I am. But I want to see Vi. She’s my best friend. We just had a stupid argument. It’s been almost a year since I spoke to her. I want to tell her everything that’s happened. And I want to apologize.’
‘Okay, fine. She sounds nice, and it doesn’t sound like she was a big fan of Tony. Plus, I want to meet your friend. So why the nerves?’
‘Well, she doesn’t know …’ Kate trails off.
‘She doesn’t know you like women?’
Kate nods.
‘Well, first things first – you don’t have to tell her anything if you don’t want to.’
‘Okay … but I do want to.’
‘Well, is she a massive homophobe?’
‘No! Definitely not. But what if she’s angry that I didn’t tell her? What if she thinks I got hit on the head and now I’m gay?’
Nova is tempted to laugh, but resists. She stands and puts her hands on Kate’s hips.
‘I don’t think that’s possible, sweetie. But if she thinks it is, I’ll fight her myself.’
Kate smiles for a second before the doorbell goes, making her jump. ‘Oh! That’ll be her. I’d better go …’
‘Deep breath!’ Nova calls after Kate, as she rushes through to the hallway. She had sent Vi a couple of messages, asking her around to the new flat and asking for forgiveness. Vi had replied after an agonizing wait, and said she would be round within the hour, with the baby.
Kate opens the doors and sees her friend for the first time in months. Vi looks the same as ever, but panicked. There is a baby strapped to her chest, a changing bag slung over one shoulder and a canvas tote full of panettone and dessert wine over the other.
‘Kate! What the fuck is going on?’
Kate hadn’t intended to worry her, but Vi must have picked up on something in her messages. She stumbles, her words all coming out at once.
‘It’s … I’ve … There are some things …’
Then, suddenly, Nova is behind her. ‘Hi, there!’ She holds out her hand to Vi, who shakes it.
‘Um … hi?’
‘Come in – you and Kate have some catching up to do. Would you like tea, coffee, wine?’ Her grin is bulletproof, and Kate just lets her take control.
‘Uh, do you have a beer? I think I might need one, breastfeeding be damned.’
‘Sure! Come in.’
Vi follows Nova, and Kate follows Vi. The fear has melted away. Maybe she couldn’t have done this on her own, but with Nova here, everything is going to be all right.
By the time Vi leaves, it has started to rain. It is gentle at first, barely more than a mist drifting down from the sky. The road
, pavement and buildings outside are slick, leathery black.
‘Thank you.’
‘What for?’ Nova shrugs from the sofa. ‘You’re the one who did all the talking.’
‘But I couldn’t have done it without you. And you were so good with the baby.’
‘His name’s Finn, bean queen. And no worries – I love babies.’ She smiles. ‘Do you feel better?’
Kate sighs shakily. There have been tears, and there has been laughter. Vi was, to Nova’s mind, a good audience – passionately hating Tony, laughing with surprise when Kate came out, mock-interrogating Nova about her intentions.
‘I feel better …’ Kate says, uncertainly. ‘But also, it makes it all a bit more real.’
Nova goes and hugs her. ‘You should get some rest.’
‘Yeah …’ She looks around the room, searching for a thought, then reaches into her pocket. ‘Here – I want you to have this.’
‘What is it?’ Nova tries to make out the object in Kate’s hand. It is shiny, but that’s all she can make out.
‘Oh, sorry – here. Vi has the spare, but I thought you should have your own …’
Nova feels the object.
It’s a key.
By the time they’re ready for bed, the rain is heavier. The gutters overspill and small lakes form around the drains. Kate thinks of Winnie the Pooh and his honey pots floating around. They go to bed, and after a while they sleep.
Kate has been asleep for half an hour – not enough time to start dreaming – when the thunder starts. She wakes without knowing why, only to be answered a minute later by a second crack. A shiver runs up her spine, and she no longer feels sleepy. She’s not scared; Kate has always liked the thunder.
In the dark, she can just make out Nova next to her. She has pulled the sheet up and over her face. Careful not to wake her, Kate gets out of bed and goes to the front room. The flat came with a pair of French windows with a Juliet balcony, overlooking the road. Kate has never seen the point of them, but now she opens the doors and feels the cool air whip around her. The crackle of rain fills the room.