Julia felt sick at the thought of how wrong she had been. How could she have been so convinced that Ben had been having an affair with Sophia? The more she thought about it the more convinced she had become so that in the end she never had any doubt as to the veracity of it all. Her stomach lurched at the thoughts she had of the two of them together in amorous lovemaking. All the scheming that had been going on behind her back. It had all been false. It had all been a fabrication. Nothing had been real. But what did this mean? What was real? It was as if someone had mixed up the palette of what was real and unreal so that Julia no longer knew what memories really existed, which thoughts were the truth and which weren’t and which conversations had really existed. A part of her wanted to go back to the belief that there had been an affair, that Sophia was still alive. Never in a million years had she been prepared for this.
Time seemed to have stopped. Stillness stood all around her. The bedroom was completely silent except for the sound of her breathing. Julia imagined herself on a cloud floating higher, far away from her bedroom, away from the pain of it all. How long could she keep blocking out Ben? How long could she block out the truth? How long could she block out her life? Could she block out all her past? Could she block out all her memories with Sophia? Julia had never understood just how integral to her life Sophia had been. Sophia was the air she breathed, the blood running through her veins, her thoughts, her memories, the dial that spurred her on, her mentor, her lifeline, her elixir, her everything, but more than everything else Sophia was her sanity.
Julia had been prepared to give up everything for Sophia. She would have given up all that she had. Sophia was all that Julia had become. She would have fought tooth and nail to protect their bond. Nothing was strong enough to break their bond. It was indestructible; it was able to conquer all including death. But could it have overcome the corrosion going on internally. The corrosion brought about from Julia’s mind? If this was what had happened then what did this make Julia? A heartless murderer who had destroyed that which she had created? How could she live with herself knowing that she had killed Sophie who was the embodiment of perfection? Why did it have to end this way? Why did it have to end at all? The more she thought about it, her confusion became greater. Her thoughts were haywire and she must have dozed off because she was suddenly immersed in a vivid dream where she was standing in front of a full length mirror. The reflection in the mirror was undeniably hers but the eyes were not. The eyes staring back at her were far more beautiful, far more expressive, far more real than hers. They were the mirrors to her soul, but they were Sophia’s eyes staring back at her. This realisation caused the dream or the state of consciousness she was in to disintegrate and she found herself standing in front of Sophia’s front door. Julia looked down and saw that she was holding Sophia’s house key in her hand. The ‘For Sale’ sign just behind her fluttered in the strong wind causing a creaking sound. Julia could see herself place the key in the front lock and turn the key slowly. Firmly pushing back the door she stepped inside.
The place seemed cavernous, her footsteps echoed on the parquet flooring. The house was completely empty. It felt eerie and hollow as if some spirit had sucked out all the life out of the house together with its contents. Julia moved from room to room, her eyes resting on the bare walls and empty rooms, one after another. The place had been stripped bare and only that which could not be removed had been left there. Otherwise every single bulb, every single item that had once resided within these four walls was gone. It was as if some evil force had waved its magic wand and caused everything to disappear. Julia climbed up the stairs, one at a time, slowly like a young child who hadn’t yet learnt to climb stairs properly. When she reached the landing all the doors leading to the bedrooms were wide open and she could see the bare rooms within. There was only one door which was shut closed. The door leading to Sophia’s bedroom or what had once been Sophia’s bedroom, her mind was quick to correct her. Julia walked up to this door turning the brass knob in her right hand. The metal felt cold and slippery. Julia tightened her grip and pushed open the door.
At first glance the room was exactly like the others, bare walls, bare flooring; but in the corner of the room there was a pile of objects. From where she stood Julia initially thought it was a pile of plastic, as if the removers had left a huge pile of used garbage bags. Julia stepped inside. The room evoked so many memories. She could picture all the items that had once stood there. She knew what picture had hung on each nail. She knew exactly where the furniture had been positioned. She recalled the smell she had smelt so often in there, a mix of Sophia’s favourite perfumes all blended into one exotic scent. This scent had now been replaced by a thick musty smell that filled her lungs which tried their hardest to wipe out the memories of the former scent. It was the smell associated with an unused residence. Julia treaded gingerly closer to the pile of plastic; it only took her a few paces to realise that the pile was not made up of used garbage bags but of florist’s cellophane. Inside were the remains of dead bouquets all shrivelled up. There were around five or six bouquets. What remained of the wilted flowers was now a mass of indecipherable brown mush. Julia looked at the tags attached to the cellophane. She stared down at the familiar handwriting, the handwriting she had used since her infancy. She read the familiar words; she did not need to read the words as she knew them all by heart “To Sophia, you are my everything, love Julia.” “To Sophia, my world, my heart, my best friend forever.” Julia could recall where she had been when she had written those notes, how long it had taken her to select the right flowers, the significance she had attached to them. The flowers were now dead and odourless. They had wilted so long ago that even the smell of the wilting flowers had long evaporated. Julia stared at the macabre pile, transfixed. She was about to turn and leave the room when she caught sight of something shiny at the bottom of the pile. She pushed back the flower remains so that they fell to the floor with a loud crinkly sound. There at the bottom of the pile, stood a tiny, shiny, bracelet, its six small charms twinkling back at her saying:
“The truth, I dare not share
The lies, I can now bare.”
Julia's Secret Page 21