The Rules of Seeing

by Joe Heap

  ‘It’s really good to meet you.’ Kate breaks away, smiling. She feels safe with these people. For the time being, she forgets to be afraid.

  ‘Come on then, let’s eat!’ Peter ushers them into the light. Kate notices that Nova has closed her eyes, walking through her childhood home blind. She knows the space of the house so well, she doesn’t need to think about getting around it. Then, seeming to remember her, Nova opens her eyes and takes Kate by the hand.

  ‘Come on, this way to food!’

  They walk into the dining room, which is small and mostly filled by a wide table, laid with a red-and-white gingham cloth. It is laden with food. Kate can’t believe the number of dishes. There are candles lit, flickering on the table and on the shelves around the room. It’s very warm in there. In fact, Kate thinks, it’s very everything in there – there is a superabundance of warmth, steam, smells, colour, flickering light.

  Sitting on the other side of the table is a young man, perhaps Nova’s age. He stands up, extending a hand.

  ‘Surprise!’

  ‘What!’ Nova steps back in surprise. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Mum told me you were coming. Thought I’d make the effort so we can have a family reunion. Just for tonight.’

  ‘Short notice …’ Nova seems puzzled, though Kate doesn’t know why.

  ‘Well, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you …’ he trails off, then turns to Kate. ‘I’m Alex, Jillian’s brother.’ He shakes her hand a little stiffly.

  ‘Nice to meet you.’

  ‘So, kid brother, killed any patients recently?’ Nova throws her arms around him and ruffles his hair.

  ‘It’s really not nice to ask that, you know?’

  ‘You’ll get over it.’

  Alex grabs a spoon and starts dividing the spoils. Nova’s family chats contentedly, catching up on the gossip of each other’s lives. Kate is glad that they seem so talkative, unconcerned with quizzing her for the time being. She forgets to call Nova ‘Jillian’, but they just find this amusing. She eats and listens, daydreaming about what her life might have been like if she had grown up in this house.

  There is no real end to the meal, they just stop eating, or pick at the leftovers, leaning back in their chairs. This room is so warm, Kate feels as though the heat is sinking down into her bones. She feels as though she has had a chill for the longest time, and she’s only now sweating it out. It’s a start, nothing more, but the shadows are seeping out of her pores.

  Peter clears away plates and covers some of the dishes, while Uzma makes mint tea.

  When everyone is ready to go to bed, they spend a while in the hallway, where the family photographs are all hung in little frames. Kate feels her breath catching, as she sees, for the first time, the Nova that existed before she knew her. Here she is, in a pink party dress, aged maybe four or five, with cake frosting on her grinning face. Here she is, a teenager, wearing dark glasses, with a great, golden guide dog draped over her lap on the sofa. The dog is bigger than she is.

  ‘You had a guide dog?’

  ‘Jilly never liked having the dog,’ Uzma says.

  ‘I liked the dog, Mum, I just didn’t like picking up after him.’

  Here she is at graduation in a dark gown, surrounded by friends. All of them are holding rubber ducks, for some reason. Here she is on a family holiday, aged maybe ten, skinny, battered legs on display, holding a white stick that glows in the foreign sun.

  Kate understands for the first time that Nova grew up blind, had existed as a blind person for thirty-one years, had known no other life until just before they met. Kate has been so tightly wrapped in her own problems, she wonders how the other woman stayed sane, with all that has changed in her life. She feels bad, not for the first time, for complicating Nova’s already complicated life.

  ‘It’s been lovely to meet you, Kate.’ Peter says, shaking her hand again.

  ‘Oh, Dad, always so formal!’ Nova nudges him in the ribs.

  ‘Should we hug, Jillian? Is this a hugging thing?’ Peter asks his daughter.

  ‘Yes, Dad, I think it should be.’

  Peter hugs Kate, and while they are close, whispers in her ear, ‘Look after her.’

  Kate isn’t sure if Nova has heard, but when they break apart she nods at him quickly.

  Uzma and Peter go up to bed. Alex hangs around for a while, looking at pictures with them and trading insults with Nova, but he’s yawning every other sentence.

  ‘I should hit the hay. See you in the morning, ladies.’

  Nova hugs him. ‘Nighty night, Stinky.’

  Kate watches Alex go upstairs, and when she turns, Nova is watching her.

  ‘What’s up?’

  Nova doesn’t answer, just reaches over and grabs her by her shirt, pulling her into a kiss. The hallway is silent for a long minute. Nova bites Kate’s bottom lip; Kate runs her hands through Nova’s hair. They break apart.

  ‘Good to have you back.’

  Kate nods. ‘I’m sorry I was gone so long.’

  Thirty-Two

  THEY ARE SITTING IN Jade Dragon, the Chinese restaurant down the road from Nova’s family home. This morning they waved goodbye to Nova’s parents, then her brother. They caught the bus up to the moors and spent the day singing ‘Wuthering Heights’ at each other. Kate had brought some colouring pencils and a pad, and used them to sketch Nova sitting on a rock, looking out over the muted landscape. Now they’re sated by the meal, their drinks, the optimistic fortune cookies, their conversation. They sit in satisfied silence. Nova plays with a chopstick, Kate looks at her girlfriend’s hands as she twirls it like a tiny baton. Finally, she asks,

  ‘Where did you get your tattoo?’

  ‘This?’ She points to the soft skin between thumb and index finger, the tiny, blue-inked heart. ‘I got it in Oxford.’

  ‘Does it mean anything?’

  Kate has always been drawn to the tattoo. She worries it might be the start of a story she doesn’t want to hear. Nova smiles, looking at the heart.

  ‘Not really.’ She shrugs.

  ‘Not really?’ It’s not like Nova to be cryptic.

  ‘Well, I got it with my ex, Rebecca.’

  ‘Oh …’ Kate feels a knot tightening in her belly. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.’

  ‘It wasn’t like that. I mean … I didn’t get it for her. I got it because I wanted to. I liked the idea of showing … ugh, this is corny.’

  ‘Go on – be corny.’

  ‘I liked the idea of showing love to the world, even if I couldn’t see it myself. That I was sending a message in a foreign language …’

  She trails off, shrugging her embarrassment again.

  ‘So why did you get it with your ex?’

  Nova laughs. ‘She just came along to make sure the tattooist didn’t draw a cock and balls on me.’

  Kate snorts. ‘Oh, my God.’

  ‘What? You can’t trust everybody, babe – being blind is a full-time gig.’

  Kate grins and – seeing the waiter approaching – motions for the bill. He doesn’t seem to notice.

  ‘What is that?’ Nova asks.

  ‘What’s what?’

  ‘That thing you just did with your hands? Like you were writing on your hand?’

  ‘Oh, I was asking for the bill, but he didn’t see me. Didn’t you know people do that?’

  ‘Nope. You’ll have to teach me.’

  They are quiet for a moment more, while Nova pushes grains of rice around on the tablecloth.

  ‘Did it hurt?’ Kate asks.

  ‘Did what hurt?’

  ‘The tattoo?’

  ‘Yes, very much. Here – kiss it better.’

  She thrusts her hand out, and Kate kisses it quickly, aware of the other diners around them.

  ‘You’re really interested, aren’t you? I think I should give you a tattoo.’

  ‘What? No!’ Kate shifts back defensively.

  ‘Don’t worry – this tattoo is totally in
visible.’

  Kate is wearing a short-sleeved T-shirt. Nova takes one of her plastic chopsticks and starts to draw on the skin of Kate’s forearm. Kate closes her eyes and a shiver runs up her spine. She feels the shapes as Nova draws a spiral, waves, lots of small circles, all down her arm. She feels as though, if she opened her eyes, she would see Nova’s shapes blossoming on her skin like inky bruises. Electric shivers pass over her. She moans quietly.

  ‘You like that?’ Nova is grinning.

  ‘Yes. Maybe not, um, in the restaurant …’

  Nova grins wider and doesn’t stop, working her way up her arm now, tracing loops and arrows, triangles and squares, houses and fish and trees – all the shapes she knows. She traces a heart, tricky with its peculiar, mirrored curves.

  Kate’s breath shivers out of her.

  ‘That’s … enough.’

  Nova puts the chopstick down. ‘How do you do that bill thing? I think we need to get you home.’

  They don’t make it home. At the junction there is a tattoo parlour, its neon sign bright in the darkness.

  ‘Hang on – stop. Stopstopstop!’

  ‘What? What is it?’ Nova peers through the glass, but can’t understand what sort of thing this shop sells. ‘Are you hungry? I said you should get dessert.’

  ‘No – it’s a tattoo place. I want to get a tattoo.’

  Nova laughs. ‘What? I can’t let you do that. You’re drunk.’

  ‘I’ve had two small glasses of wine.’

  ‘Well, you’re crazy then. What tattoo do you want to get, anyway?’

  Kate pulls her close by her hand. ‘Guess.’

  ‘I don’t know … something about architecture? A nice bridge, maybe?’

  ‘You’re the dumbest genius I ever met.’ Kate takes Nova’s left hand and kisses her between thumb and index finger. Recognition dawns on Nova’s face.

  ‘You want my tattoo?’

  ‘Is that okay?’

  Nova’s lips twist, and Kate is sure she’s going to say no. She’s sure she has overstepped a boundary, made things weird again.

  ‘Okay, you can get it.’ She nods quickly. ‘Come on. I hope you have ID, young lady.’

  Kate’s resolve wavers when she steps into the shop. The air is thick with disinfectant and the stereo is playing sludgy rock. One wall is covered by mounted frames of designs, which can be flipped through like a book, running from blue anchors and hearts to Technicolor Japanese carp and leering demons, three-dimensional faces and flowers to geometric patterns and MC Escher tessellations, which Nova stares at in puzzlement.

  RULE OF SEEING NO.389

  Sighted people are so good at seeing that they get bored of it, and make things called optical illusions. Endless staircases and impossible cubes can exist on paper, but not in the real world.

  ‘How can I help you, ladies?’

  The tattooist emerges from the back room summoned by the sound of the bell over the door. He’s in his forties, head shaven, with a roll of fat forming at the top of his neck. His arms are covered in bruise-colour tattoos of blue and green and yellow.

  ‘Can I … can I just get a tattoo, um, now?’

  The man laughs, not unkindly.

  ‘Sure, if it’s not too big. Or we can do a consultation, and I can book you in for later. Whatever.’

  ‘Now is good. It’s only a small thing.’

  Kate sits in the leatherette chair, feeling the butterflies in her stomach. Nova shows him the tiny blue heart, and the man grins.

  ‘I reckon I can manage that, yeah.’

  He goes and prepares a gun. He fetches antiseptic and swabs Kate’s hand. Then he grabs her by the wrist. Kate feels her breath catch at the sudden contact.

  ‘You okay?’

  ‘Yeah, sure – you just startled me is all.’

  ‘All right. Now just keep your thumb and index finger stretched out nice and wide, so the skin is taut … good.’

  Kate holds her breath as the needle buzzes, as he dips it in an ink well, and as it comes down on her hand. Nova holds her free hand, and Kate feels like a child going to the doctor for an inoculation. What she’s inoculating herself from, she doesn’t know.

  The pain begins, and Kate lets out her breath. This isn’t so bad. It’s not sharp, like she thought it might be, but more like burning. Like being branded.

  Blue ink pools on her skin, and the tattooist wipes it away with a cloth. Blood bubbles through the grate in her skin, mixing with the ink. One more round of buzzing, feeling the rattle in her bones, and it’s done. The tattooist puts a plaster on and gives Kate some advice on keeping it clean.

  They pay the man and stumble into the night. They laugh and laugh at a world where things are quick and easy. A world where people find each other and stay found. Halfway home, Nova stops Kate with a hand on her arm.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Look up.’ Nova is craning her head up to the sky.

  ‘What? The stars?’ Kate looks down at the other woman’s face. Her mouth is open.

  ‘Yeah, I’ve never seen them like this.’

  Kate looks up again. It is an unusually clear night, and away from the light pollution of London the stars are crisp and bright. She recognizes Orion and the Plough. She thinks that, if their roles were reversed, Nova would know a lot more constellations than that.

  ‘Those are the most distant objects I’ve ever seen.’ Nova says. ‘The most distant objects I ever will see. Not that long ago, I couldn’t see the walls of the room I was sitting in. Now I’m looking at objects that are so far away, their light has been travelling for millions of years …’

  She turns slowly on the spot, looking up.

  ‘Every atom that we’re made of came from one of those things. They’re the first shapes. When enough stars had burned out, planets could form, and oceans, and fish, and streetlamps and, and … ice-cream cones! All the other shapes …’

  She trails off, staring at the heavenly furnaces. Kate doesn’t know what to say. She holds Nova’s hand while she watches the distant light.

  They stumble through the door, laughing and shrugging out of their coats and shoes. The house is dark and silent, but still warm. In the heat, Kate feels the ache from her hand, but it feels like a love bite.

  ‘I’ll get the kettle on, shall I? Hot chocolate?’

  Nova doesn’t reply, bending down to pick something off the mat.

  ‘What’s this?’ she asks, holding it up to Kate.

  ‘It’s a letter. Wasn’t it there earlier?’

  Nova frowns and opens the envelope, which has nothing written on it. She takes out a piece of paper and reads.

  ‘Note from your neighbour?’ Kate asks, unwrapping her scarf.

  Nova hands the paper to her wordlessly. There are just four words written on it, in familiar handwriting.

  I’m watching you both.

  Thirty-Three

  NOVA HAS HER EYES closed.

  She’s sitting on a chair by the window, her arms resting on the sill, forehead pressed to the cold glass. Opening her eyes, she turns to look at Kate, who is lying on the bed. She has been here before – is life repeating? Nova examines her for a long moment, trying to read clues in her body language, to tell if she is waking or sleeping, but gleaning no useful information. This is what Kate is like all the time now.

  ‘Are you awake?’

  ‘Mm.’

  Nova thinks she is about to say something else, but nothing comes.

  ‘Do you want to … do something?’

  There is a long pause.

  ‘Like what?’

  Nova sighs, pressing her fingers to her eyes. Since they came to the hotel, in the centre of Bradford, they have left the room only to get meals in the hotel restaurant, before hurrying back.

  It has been a week.

  They have watched the television a lot, although Kate doesn’t seem to be aware of what is on, and Nova has given up trying to interest her. She knows that Kate only puts the TV on to keep her quiet.<
br />
  They had both phoned the police after finding the note from Tony. Nova explained the situation to the local force, while Kate spoke to Paul Sandler in London. It took Nova a long time to convince them that this wasn’t some sort of prank. When the local police finally arrived, and agreed to search the car, they found a small black box attached to the underside with cable ties. Both the car and the tracker had been taken into police custody, while arrangements were made for them to stay at this hotel.

  ‘We should go out,’ Nova says.

  ‘No, we shouldn’t.’ Kate opens her eyes and looks at her, sat by the window. She pushes herself up on her elbows, then sits on the edge of the bed. It’s the most that she’s moved in hours.

  Nova looks to the window, then to the bed. She feels impatient to move, to do something, to be anywhere but this room. They are like magnets repelling. She’s no longer scared. She can’t live like this.

  ‘Well, I’m going out.’

  Kate looks at her, sharply. ‘I don’t feel like going out, Nova.’ She sounds angry at the suggestion.

  ‘That’s not what I said. I said I’m going out. I’m going out now.’

  Kate is shaking her head. ‘No, you can’t … It’s not safe.’

  Nova feels her pent-up anger like a magma chamber, ready to erupt. She has endured so much because Kate has endured so much. She feels bad for wanting more, but she can’t be a prisoner in this stale little room any longer.

  ‘I don’t care! We left the car with the police. We’re in a huge city … He’s not going to find us!’

  Kate doesn’t say anything for a long time, doesn’t even move. Nova thinks that she’s going to argue, that she is going to plead for Nova to stay, or offer to take her out. But she does neither.

  ‘Fine then. Fuck off if you’re going to be like that. Do you know how difficult—’ she breaks off, silenced by her own rage.

  ‘How difficult it’s been? How can you even ask me that?’ Nova is shouting. ‘I’ve been through it all, Kate. I’m the one he grabbed by the throat. I’m the one you dragged all this way, to sit in a crappy hotel for a week while the police stake out my parents’ house.’