Her Fearful Symmetry (42 page)

“I
know
that. But you aren’t having her cryogenically preserved.”

“Not exactly. But we’d like the coffin packed with ice, please.” “Robert!” “Humour me, Sebastian. And please keep her in cold-storage as much as possible.”

“Why? Robert, I don’t like this.”

“It’s nothing like that…”

Sebastian regarded him sceptically. “I’m sorry, Robert. But either tell me exactly what you’ve got in mind, or find someone else to do it.”

Robert said, “You won’t believe me; it sounds crazy. It is crazy.” Sebastian said nothing. Robert took a deep breath and tried to organise his thoughts. “Do you believe in ghosts?”

“As it happens,” Sebastian said softly, “I do. I’ve had some-interesting experiences. But I seem to recall that you don’t-believe in ghosts.”

“I’ve been forced to reconsider.” Robert told Sebastian about Elspeth. He omitted any mention of a plan; he told Sebastian that Elspeth had caught Valentina’s spirit when she died, and now she was going to put it back into Valentina and bring her back to life.

Sebastian had a number of objections. (“Why didn’t Elspeth just revive her right away?” was the most formidable, and Robert could only say that he didn’t know.) In the end Sebastian agreed to do his best to keep Valentina cold; he also agreed to say nothing to the family, in case the attempt did not succeed. But even so, Robert went away wondering if Sebastian might be calling Jessica, or the police, the moment he was out of sight.

The next morning Edie and Jack arrived.

Standing at his window, Robert watched them walking up the front path. They disappeared into the building and he heard them treading the stairs. Elspeth’s ban on Jack and Edie entering her flat was inappropriate now. Robert wondered what Elspeth was doing; he wanted to drink himself to distraction, to die; anything would be preferable to meeting Valentina’s parents. He had agreed to go with them to the funeral parlour.

In the cab they hardly spoke. Robert could not look at Edie. She was unbearably like Elspeth; the only significant difference was her Americanised speech. Julia was dazed. She sat next to her father, leaning her head on his shoulder. Edie began to cry quietly. Jack put his arm around Edie and looked at Robert, stricken. Robert was sitting in the fold-down seat opposite the three of them. He kept his eyes on Jack’s shoes for the rest of the ride.

When they arrived at the funeral parlour Sebastian was waiting for them. He took Edie and Jack to view Valentina’s body. Robert and Julia sat in Sebastian’s office.

“How are you?” Robert asked her.

“Peachy,” Julia said, not looking at him.

Sebastian returned with Edie and Jack. He began to carefully lay out the procedures and options, the prices for interment and cremation, the various certificates and signatures that would be needed. Robert listened with what he hoped was an impassive expression. He had forgotten that Valentina’s parents might have their own ideas about her remains, and that Sebastian was required by law to explain all their choices. Robert’s heart was racing.
What if they decide to cremate her?

Edie said, “We want to take her home-Jack’s family has a plot in the Lake Forest Cemetery. It’s right on Lake Michigan. We were thinking we’d like to bury her there.”

Sebastian nodded and began to explain how to go about shipping a body by air. Robert thought,
Well, that’s it, then. I tried and I failed.
It was out of his hands now.

Curiously, it was Julia who saved the situation. “No!” she said. Everyone looked at her. “I want her here.”

“But Julia-” said Edie.

“But it’s not your decision-” Jack said at the same time.

Julia shook her head. “She wanted to be buried in Highgate Cemetery.” Julia looked at Robert. “She said so.”

Robert said, “That’s true.”

“Please,” Julia said. And in the end it was decided that Valentina would be interred in the Noblin family mausoleum, just as she had requested.

In the drawer Elspeth encircled Valentina, pressed her into a soft shapelessness, kept her from diffusing, kept her close.
Here we are
,
Valentina, like marsupials in a pouch, waiting for developments.
She wondered what Valentina knew, what she would remember. It was like being with a baby, not knowing what this tiny being was thinking, whether it could think at all. Elspeth did not remember the first days of her afterlife. Things had come on gradually; there was no moment of awakening, of sudden consciousness. She held Valentina close, sang her little songs, chattered to her about nothing. Valentina was like a hum, a buzz of being, but no words or thoughts escaped from her to Elspeth. Elspeth thought about the twins as infants. They had never slept or fed at the same time, they had drained her of energy and milk; they had seemed even then inseparable but individual.
Well, you’ve managed to separate yourself rather thoroughly now, Valentina.
In the drawer nothing much happened. The days went by. Soon-though time meant little to the ghosts-soon it was the day of Valentina’s funeral. It was time for something to happen.

A
T EIGHT o’clock on the morning of the funeral Robert stood at Martin’s door, engulfed by the spill of newspapers. He tried to straighten them into piles but gave up when Martin appeared.

“Come in.” They moved through the flat to the kitchen. Robert sat at the table and Martin put the electric kettle on. Robert thought he seemed refreshingly normal and domestic compared to what was going on downstairs.
You know you’re in trouble when Martin is the most functional person in the place.

“The funeral is at one, today.”

“I know.”

“Would you like to come? It’s all right if you can’t, you know, but I think Julia would appreciate it.”

“I’m not sure. I’ll call down if I can do it.”

“So I’ll put you down as a ‘No’?”

Martin shrugged. He held up two boxes of tea. Robert pointed to the Earl Grey. Martin put a tea bag in each cup. “How is Julia?”

“Her parents have arrived. Listening to Elspeth, I’d imagined they’d have three heads apiece and shoot fire from their eyes, but they’ve taken Julia in hand and they’re all, I don’t know, subdued together. None of us really believe it-they keep walking around the flat like they’re going to run into Valentina in the hall. Julia’s practically catatonic.”

“Ah.” Martin poured out the water. Robert stared at the stream. “They are staying in the flat?”

“No, at a hotel.”

“So Julia’s by herself in the flat?” “Yes. Her parents tried to get her to come to the hotel with them, but she wanted to stay in her flat. I don’t know why.”

“She shouldn’t be alone.” “Well, that’s what I came up to talk to you about. I want you to ask Julia up here tonight, and keep her here until I tell you it’s okay to let her go.”

Martin regarded Robert sceptically. “Why?”

Robert maintained what he hoped was an innocent air. “Julia shouldn’t be alone.”

“No, she shouldn’t be. But surely she’d rather be with her parents?”

“If necessary you can ask them up too.”

“You’re joking. You expect me to have Edie and Jack here? Have you looked at this place properly?”

“Yeah, but I didn’t realise you had.” Robert switched tactics. “Look, Martin, it’s life and death: you’ve got to help me keep Julia out of her own flat for a few hours. I can’t depend on Edie and Jack.”

“What are you up to?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

“It’s-a seance, of sorts.” “You’re trying to contact Valentina? Or Elspeth?”

“More or less.”

Martin shook his head, exasperated. “Surely this is
not
the moment? If you’re going to play about with that, can’t it wait?”

“It absolutely can’t wait.”

“Why can’t Julia be there?”

“I can’t explain. And you can’t tell her.”

“No. I won’t do it.”

“Why not?” Martin got up and paced around the kitchen. Robert instantly wished he had done this first, but they couldn’t both pace at the same time. That would be peculiar.

Robert said, “It won’t hurt Julia not to know. Here: I’ll make a bargain with you. If you’ll keep Julia here tonight, I’ll give you something you desperately want.”

Martin sat down again. “What’s that?” he said suspiciously.

“Marijke’s address in Amsterdam.”

Martin raised his eyebrows. He got up again and left the kitchen. Robert heard him walking across the hall into his office. He was gone for a while. When he reappeared he had a lit cigarette in one hand and a map of Amsterdam in the other.

“I thought you’d given up?” Robert said.

“I’ll quit again in half an hour.” Martin smoothed out the map on the table. Robert saw that it was covered with marks, notes, erasures. Martin pointed to a tiny red circle in the Jordaan. “There.”

Robert squinted, brought the minuscule words into focus. “Close, but no cigar.” They stared at each other. Robert smiled. “How did you happen to pick that spot?”

“I know her. She’s careful not to say much, but I remember things. We lived nearby, on the Tweede Leliedwarsstraat.”

“I’ll throw in her email address.”

“Marijke doesn’t do email.”

“She does. She’s had it for more than a year.”

“A year?”

“I’ll give you her address, email and a photograph of her apartment.”

“She sent you a picture of her place?”

“Several. Did she mention she’s got a cat now?”

Martin looked wistful. “Does she?”

“It’s a little grey cat named Yvette. It sleeps on Marijke’s pillow.” Martin sat quietly, smoking and staring at the map. “All right, you’re on. What do I have to do?”

Robert laid it out for him. It was simple, really; it was the only simple thing about that entire day.

When Jack woke up, Edie was standing in her nightgown at the French windows in the small hotel room, staring at the blue sky over the slate roofs of Covent Garden. He lay there watching her, reluctant to break into her thoughts. Finally he got up and went to the bathroom.
Amazing how life goes on. Here I am pissing and showering and shaving like it’s any day, like we’re on vacation. Why didn’t we come and see them before?
He wiped the last traces of lather from his neck and went back into the other room. Edie was still standing at the windows. Now her head was bowed. Jack walked to her and stood behind her, put his hands on her bare shoulders. She turned slightly.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Eight fifteen.”

“We can call Julia.”

“I’m sure she’s been awake for hours.”

“Yes.”

They continued to stand that way, Jack’s hands weighing on her shoulders. Edie said, “I’ll call her.” Her cell phone didn’t work here, so she fumbled with the hotel phone, misdialled and redialled.

“Julia?”
I just wanted to hear your voice.

“Hi, Mom.”
Oh God. I don’t know what to do, Mom.

“We thought we might come earlier.”
I can’t stand to be in this room.

“Can you come soon?”
I’m alone and I don’t know what to do.

“Yes, yes, we’ll just get dressed and take a cab. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” Edie felt a surge of incongruous happiness.
She needs me.
Edie was smiling as she hung up the phone. She walked briskly to her suitcase and began to dress for the funeral. Jack went to the wardrobe, stood looking at his dark suit hanging by itself. He forgot, for a minute; he was lost in the dark wool hanging in the shadows of the wardrobe. Then he remembered and reached for the suit.
I feel old.
The suit was heavy, as though it were lined with some soft metal. He watched Edie bustling around, brushing her hair, putting on earrings.
I don’t want to go outside.
He sat on the bed holding a pair of socks. Edie saw him sitting motionless and said, “Come on, she’s waiting for us,” and it was that singular pronoun, pronounced impatiently, that finally bore down on him the fact of Valentina’s death.

Julia was waiting for them downstairs in the main hallway. She watched her parents through the narrow leaded window as they let themselves in the gate and walked along the path through the front garden. It was a bright June day, the sunlight made them seem extra-dimensional and distinct. They reminded Julia of a picture in one of the twins’ childhood books.
A little girl leading a bear.
Julia opened the door and wind rushed in, blowing Robert’s mail to the floor. She left it there.

Edie embraced Julia and said, “You aren’t dressed yet?”

Julia looked down at her sweats. “I didn’t want to wait for you upstairs. The flat is kind of creeping me out right now.”

“Stay with us at the hotel, then,” Edie said.

Julia shook her head. “I have to stay here.”
Valentina’s here. She’s got to be.

Jack bent down to Julia and she clasped her arms around his neck. “Come on,” she said. They went upstairs, Julia leading the way.

Once inside the flat they hesitated. “Have you eaten?” Jack asked. He was ravenous, but felt guilty for thinking about breakfast.

“No,” said Julia, vaguely. “There’s probably some food. Have whatever you want. I’ll get dressed.”

Edie followed Julia. Yesterday, when they had arrived, Edie had been grief-numbed and jet-lagged. Julia had completely occupied her mind. This morning Edie began to notice the apartment itself. Elspeth suddenly seemed present to her in the furnishings, objects, in the paint on the walls and the angle of the light coming in the windows, in the very air. It was as though their childhood had been preserved in a museum. Edie shuddered. She stood in the doorway of the bedroom as Julia began stripping off her sweats. Julia had laid out her violet dress, white stockings and black patent-leather shoes. It was the same outfit she had chosen to bury Valentina in.