by Mia Farlane
‘Do you think you’re being unreasonable?’
‘Oh, “yes I’m being unreasonable”: that’s what I’m supposed to say, isn’t it?’ She hated herself at the moment.
‘We had a lovely day, and it was a pity you weren’t there,’ Jansen summarized, closing the subject.
‘I was at work.’ So how could she have been there?
Jansen nodded again. She put her cookbook on the writing desk. ‘Can we turn out the light now?’
‘You can turn it out if you want.’
‘You’re not pre-menstrual, are you?’
‘I thought it was our special café.’
‘It is our special café.’
‘It’s not that special to you, obviously.’
‘May, you’re not jealous of Elizabeth?’
‘I’m jealous of her? She’s doing nothing with her life, she’s using us for free accommodation, and I’m jealous of her? No, I am not jealous; I just think we could keep some things special to us.’
‘May,’ Jansen smiled, ‘it is very special to me too, and I didn’t say anything about the time we went there.’
‘She’d only laugh. She’d think it was soppy.’
‘Well, I don’t know that she would, but it’s our business and I haven’t told her about it.’ Jansen turned out the light, and came to bed.
‘You can cuddle me, if you want,’ May said.
27
The Missing Bear
A paving stone of clay wrapped in plastic. May watched Elizabeth take it to the kitchen, and dump it down on top of the carrots, in the vegetable rack in the cupboard next to the sink: ‘the coolest spot,’ Elizabeth explained. ‘Gotta keep it cool. Cool clay, cool clay,’ she said, clearly enjoying the sound. ‘It’s hard to say…’ She tilted her head to the left, briefly holding a quizzical pose, then to the right. ‘Cooool clay.’
May left the kitchen, without making any comment.
‘By the way,’ Elizabeth called out. ‘I identified with the angel. Who did you identify with?’
‘What?’ May returned to the kitchen.
‘“L’Aannge” –’ Elizabeth broke off into hysterical laughter. ‘Minus the asexual bit; that bit really didn’t appeal very much. Merci. But the young for ever, adorable, attractive to both men and women? Objectively, I’d have to say “oui”.’ She grinned.
‘Of course.’
‘And the child – oddly enough,’ Elizabeth added. She went to the hall and got a fresh towel out of the airing cupboard opposite the bathroom.
‘Or not oddly enough,’ May said.
‘Who were you?’ Elizabeth hunted around for a flannel, messing up the folded towels.
‘Who was I? No one. I don’t read books, looking for myself in every character. I don’t have to place myself in every book I read. I enjoy the language.’
‘You were one of the perverts, weren’t you?’ Elizabeth found a purple flannel. She shut the cupboard door.
May opened it again. The towels were all mixed up with the sheets. She put the hand-towels back on top of the towels, and took out a sheet to refold it.
‘That’s not an insult: the angel liked the perverts, remember – for they had “surprisingly spotless minds”,’ Elizabeth misquoted from the translation. ‘Now,’ she pointed to the middle of her forehead, ‘which pervert were you? Let’s see…’ She closed her eyes for a second, and flipped them wide open again – ‘Ping! You’d be the pregnant one.’
‘Oh, is that right?’ May put the sheet back in the cupboard in the right place.
‘I’m sorry to have to tell you this,’ Elizabeth said, ‘but that is right. I’m right, aren’t I?’
‘No, you are not – right.’
Elizabeth smiled. ‘What’s wrong with being Aimée? Yes, she was a little unhappy, yes, she needed help –’
‘So you’re the adorable hero, whereas I’m the pathetic –’
‘Adulterous one?’ Elizabeth shrugged French-style, and opened the bathroom door.
May followed Elizabeth, who was now dunking her elbow into a newly run bath, testing the water temperature. ‘Excuse me?’ May said.
Elizabeth hummed ‘Home, Home on the Range’ as she turned on the hot tap – although the water looked hot enough; the whole room was steamed up.
‘Excuse me?’ May repeated. Elizabeth was humming that tune for a reason; she was insinuating something.
‘I’m just winding you up. Don’t worry.’
‘What about?’
‘Relax. It’s a joke. I’m making a joke.’ Elizabeth held her hand under the tap.
‘Well it’s not funny.’
Elizabeth turned off the tap. ‘Shall I leave the bath in for you? I’ve just used up the hot water.’
Three hours later, Jansen finally got back from driving.
‘She’s really settling in well now, isn’t she?’ May sat up in bed. ‘She’s just had another bath. She spends at least an hour in there every evening. Never thinks to open the window (the obvious thing to do). No, she turns the place into a steam-sauna. I go in there afterwards, and the walls are literally dripping! There is water literally running down the walls! Every evening.’
‘May, I’ve just got in the door.’
‘She could open the window just a little bit, and it would help, but does she? She doesn’t. She doesn’t worry about condensation or mould. It doesn’t enter her head to worry about it!’
‘I have just done twelve hours’ driving –’
‘That’s because you agreed on the last pickup. That was up to you.’
‘Yes, it was up to me.’ Jansen put her blazer over a hanger, and slipped off her navy-blue trousers.
‘There’s no more hot water, by the way.’
Jansen folded her trousers and hung them under her blazer.
‘If you wanted a bath,’ May continued.
‘I don’t want a bath, May; I want to go to bed.’
‘There’s never any hot water now, after ten o’clock.’
‘You never have a bath in the evening.’
‘But I might have wanted a bath, though, and if I had wanted one, I wouldn’t have been able to, would I?’
‘You’re going to grow a wart on the end of your nose quite soon.’ Jansen leaned towards May to give her a kiss on this nose, and May leaned away from her.
‘What a mean thing to say.’
Jansen got her pyjama bottoms from under the pillow, and pulled them on. From the bed, May watched, waiting for an apology. Jansen flung her shirt and bra in a pile on the floor, pulled a large T-shirt over her head, and went to the bathroom. May got out of bed and followed her.
‘What a horrible and mean thing to say,’ she whispered.
Jansen put paste on her toothbrush, and held it under the tap.
May sat down on the edge of the bath. ‘So, you’re quite happy with her moving in? Indefinitely.’
Jansen began brushing her teeth – up down, up down, round and round. She took her time. She put the toothbrush back in the cup, and picked up the floss. That should really have been done the other way round, May observed: floss then brush was logical.
‘How often is she actually here?’ Jansen asked as she drew out a long string, and snapped it off.
That wasn’t the point at all. ‘We have to have that bin-liner of hers in the corner of the sitting room all the time, and now there’s a huge great lump of clay in the vegetable rack, bruising the carrots.’
Jansen looked interested. ‘She’s bought some clay?’
‘Yes, anyway I’m sick of not knowing when or if she’s going to be around – and Mark. I never know whether I’m going to get the place to myself, or not.’
‘Ask her if she can start looking for another place.’ Jansen continued flossing her teeth.
‘Very funny! Very funny!’ May raised her eyebrows as far as they’d go, tipped her head back for emphasis, and, losing her balance, nearly slid into the bath. Jansen offered her hand to May, who steadied herself, and went on: ‘Yo
u know I can’t do that. I have to look after her until the Eliza-bath finds somewhere…’ she trailed off into a mutter.
‘“Eliza-bath”.’ Jansen tried the expression. ‘I like it; it’s apt.’ She turned out the light, and they went back to the bedroom.
There May noticed something: ‘Ted’s missing. Ted’s gone! I knew the burglars would’ve taken something. They couldn’t have just gone off without taking anything, could they? They didn’t find anything of value to them, so they just grabbed something of value to us. They’ve gone off with Ted.’
‘I’ve lent him to Elizabeth.’ Jansen climbed into bed.
‘He’s sleeping with Elizabeth?’
‘Yes, that’s correct.’ Jansen nodded, and reached for her book.
May stared at her. ‘You’ve lent out your teddy bear.’
‘I have.’ Jansen shut the book and put it back on the stool next to the bed. ‘May, I’m not up to talking. I’m turning out the light now.’
‘And how do you think Ted feels about that?’
Jansen switched out the light behind her, and lay down.
‘How d’you think he feels?’ May sat on the bed.
‘May, I’m tired.’
‘I can’t believe you’ve lent her your childhood teddy bear.’
‘Mm-hmm.’ Jansen registered the disbelief, and curled up with her back to May.
What did this mean? May climbed into bed, but there was no point in lying down. There was no way she’d get to sleep now; she had to work this out. She sat there, thinking. Eventually she said, ‘In a way… in a way, it’s as if you’re sleeping with her.’
‘May, I was asleep.’
‘Are you aware of that, though? She’ll take it like that, y’know.’ When Jansen said nothing, May persevered: ‘It means you’re sleeping with her. You do realize that?’
‘If you like,’ Jansen said at last.
‘That’s the message you’re sending out.’
‘Yeah, probably.’
‘So you agree then?’
‘I think you’re really disrespectful.’ Jansen was suddenly sitting up. ‘When you need sleep I wouldn’t dream of keeping you awake.’
‘You wouldn’t dream of it.’ May laughed. ‘Get it? You “wouldn’t… dream… of it.”’ She laughed again, but she knew she was in trouble.
‘I am really angry.’ Jansen clicked the light back on. You know I’m tired, and you know I have to get up at seven tomorrow –’
‘And I’ll get woken up, too.’ May tried to get in a grievance of her own.
‘You can go back to sleep. The point is: I’ve got eight to ten hours of driving to do. I was so tired this evening – do you know? – that I nipped a cyclist coming over Waterloo Bridge. She didn’t press charges. But she would have been perfectly in her right to. I was lucky not to be prosecuted.’
‘Sorry.’ May was contrite. ‘Get some sleep. Go to sleep. Go to sleep now,’ she said. If Jansen had an accident the next day, it would be May’s fault.
‘And I am fed up with this jealousy thing. She’s your sister! I am not going to go out with your sister, May.’
‘Would you be quiet?’ May whispered.
‘She can’t hear us.’
‘Would you be quiet, please?’
The next morning Elizabeth was up early, rummaging in the pockets of her army jacket. ‘Yes! I have found a “super plus”. I think… yes! I have found my last remaining tampon.’ She went off to the loo.
On the breadboard sat a freshly made sculpture: a bird lying on its back, with outstretched wings. May noted its stomach looked split in half. She’d keep her comments to herself, she decided.
‘Have you got it?’ Elizabeth had returned.
‘It’s a vulva,’ Jansen said.
‘Aha.’ Elizabeth sat on the stool in front of the sculpture. ‘I’m gonna melt some red and blue glass in there. That’ll be the second firing. For now, I’ve just got to leave it to dry under a cloth, ready for the first firing.’
‘How did you come up with the idea?’
‘There’s the mystery.’ Elizabeth stared at her creation. ‘Woke up just before five, got out the clay, and dot-dot-dot.’
Jansen clearly liked the result. She kneeled in front of the table, looked intently at the clay bird, smiled at it, warmly, like a visitor at a maternity ward.
‘You like her,’ Elizabeth stated.
‘I do.’
‘Thanks.’ Elizabeth leaned across and kissed Jansen on the cheek. ‘I do, too.’
Elizabeth in her casual sculpting attire, Jansen in her chauffeur’s uniform: it was like watching some sort of pagan marriage. A three- or four-minute silence was observed; then Elizabeth covered up the sculpture and went outside for her morning nicotine intake.
‘It doesn’t matter, May. We can get another breadboard.’
‘She can get us another breadboard.’
‘Okay, yes, but a breadboard costs nothing. I’ll pick one up tomorrow anyway. I’m starting a four-days-off.’
That was a problem too quickly solved. ‘She doesn’t ask; she just takes the board, and now, if we want to cut anything’ – Jansen was leaving the sitting room – ‘we’ll have to use a plate.’ May followed her to the bedroom. ‘“How did you come up with the idea?”’ May exaggerated a look of friendly interest. ‘You’re feeding her ego.’
‘May, I need to make a quick call, before I go to work,’ Jansen said.
‘I was in the middle of speaking and you wander off.’
‘Yes. I need to make a call, and would like to have the room to myself for that.’ Jansen had the phone in her hand.
‘You’re going to ring someone and tell them how petty I am about the breadboard.’
‘No, I’m not. It’s true I don’t feel like listening to a non-problem about a breadboard, but no, I am not ringing anyone to talk about you.’ She was now pushing May gently out of the door into the hall.
‘This is my bedroom, too. What if I feel like being in here?’
‘Which room do you want to be in?’
May thought. She didn’t care. She wanted to be in the room in which Jansen was making her call. ‘Which room are you calling in?’
‘I’d prefer the bedroom, but I don’t mind.’
‘The bedroom,’ May said.
‘Right.’ Jansen stormed past May to the sitting room.
‘Who are you calling?’
‘None of your business.’ Jansen shut the door.
28
The Death Threat
‘Urggh! That’s so creepy.’ May let her tongue hang out in an appalled vomit. ‘That’s scary.’
Elizabeth, who had finally emerged from her post-creation nap, and who was making her way to the bathroom – again – with a towel and a pile of clothes, made a point of ‘ignoring the performance’.
‘Yuk! That’s disgusting,’ May went on. ‘“This was your life!”’ she read out.
Elizabeth grabbed the booklet, and flipped through it. ‘Oh, one of those angry, evangelical publications.’ She slapped the mini comic book back into May’s palm. ‘They put these kinda things through the door all the time.’
‘It was in an envelope addressed to me, hand-written. Look, it’s even got the first letter of my middle name.’
Elizabeth glanced at the envelope. ‘They’ve got it off some electoral list. I wouldn’t worry about it.’ She dropped her towel and clothes on the bathroom floor.
‘But I do; I am worried about it. It’s not about possibilities – this could be your life.’ She flicked to the back of the booklet, where a man in a starched, fifties suit sat with a child on each knee, reading them bedtime stories. His boss, whose voice bubble was filled with praises for the reformed worker, had a Hitler-style moustache. ‘It’s a death threat.’ She stated the obvious. Elizabeth stood in front of her, indicating she’d like to get past. ‘What worries me’ – May stepped aside – ‘is that the burglars might’ve got some sort of information, and now, for some reason’ – she
lifted her shoulders up – ‘they hate me.’
‘No. It wasn’t the burglars. You can rest in peace on that one.’ Elizabeth laughed at her joke.
‘Oh, thanks. And you know that for sure?’ A rhetorical question.
‘Yeah.’ Elizabeth was certain. ‘Hey, listen, I’m gonna have a bath. Need the bathroom?’
‘How do you know?’
‘Okay… if you can promise not to overreact.’
‘What?’ May was promising nothing.
Elizabeth stared at her. ‘May –’
‘What? What-what-what? What?’
Elizabeth held her forehead in her palm. She waited. She kept May waiting. She sighed. ‘Are you going to interrupt me? Because forget it, I’m not saying anything if you keep interrupting me like that.’
May opened her eyes wide. ‘Go on – I’m not speaking – go on.’
‘I came back to the flat one night, without my key. No one was home…’ She made three dots in the air with her index finger.
‘You broke in?’
Elizabeth mouthed a slow, definite ‘yep’, and walked off to the loo, leaving May in the hallway, holding on to her death threat.
A minute or two passed. The loo flushed, and Elizabeth reappeared, on her way back to the bathroom.
‘We had to pay for the locksmith to come round, and for a new set of keys,’ May told her as she went by.
‘Didn’t the landlord do all that?’
‘Yeah. Yes, someone had to pay for it. That’s right,’ she told Elizabeth, who was putting the plug in the bath, ignoring her. May couldn’t believe the attitude. She pictured her levering open the bathroom window, climbing in. She hadn’t even left a note to explain what she’d done. ‘Do you know,’ May had to raise her voice now, in competition with the water that was gushing into the bath, ‘that your fingerprints are on record?’
‘Well, I’ll be sure to wear gloves next time I break ’n’ enter.’ Elizabeth squirted some of May’s special Liquorice Extract shower gel into the bath.
‘I can’t believe it!’ May would call Jansen and tell her about it. She shouldn’t have to keep this a secret.
‘Yes, you can tell Jansen if you want. That’s fine.’ Elizabeth seemed to have read May’s mind, and was giving her permission.