The Lives of Women (22 page)

‘And Agatha.'

‘And Agatha, indeed.'

Agatha says: ‘Go if you want, I don't care. What do you think of my hair this way?'

‘I don't want to leave you on your own, Agatha.'

‘Oh, please, I'll be fine. Karl's mother did it for me. It's called a chignon. She used to be a hairdresser – did you know?'

‘Mrs Donegan? No, I didn't. You were in their house?'

‘And I will be most days until Granny Hanley snuffs it. Does it make me look older?'

‘Why are you not going to the Shillmans'?'

‘I don't want to. Well, does it…? Does it make me look older? It feels very sophisticated anyway. She's going to teach me how to do it myself.'

‘Is she?'

‘Yes, it'll take maybe a million times before I get it right but it'll be worth it. And it makes me look older?'

‘Yes, I suppose.'

‘But not old-fashioned?'

‘No! Agatha, the tennis? I'm trying to tell you – Serena will collect us every day, she'll probably bring us out afterwards. And Paul is going. And Jonathan. And…'

‘I'm not standing there like a fool on the sidelines, listening to you lot play tennis.'

‘Fine. But if you're not going – then I'm not.'

‘For Christ's sake, Elaine. If you don't go, how do you think that makes me look? Like an invalid, that's how. A burden. I'm well used to being on my own. Do you have to be so…'

‘What?'

‘Clingy.'

‘Clingy!'

‘Sometimes. You really are.'

‘Clingy, Agatha? You're saying I
cling
to you? Just because I show a bit of concern.'

‘I don't want your concern, Elaine. And I certainly don't want your fucking pity.'

Her mother says, ‘Now? You mean this minute,
now
? You can't go now. Your dinner is on the table.'

‘Serena is taking us for a drive.'

‘But it's lamb chops. They won't keep. They'll be ruined if they're reheated.'

‘They're all waiting for me in the car.'

‘Lamb chops. After all the trouble I've taken?'

‘I have to go.'

‘Lamb chops. They cost money, you know. And now what am I supposed to do with them?'

‘Eat them yourself,' she says and runs out the door.

On the way home from the drive Serena begins to draw Agatha out and suddenly she is telling a story. Elaine is sitting up front next to Serena. Agatha is right behind her; Rachel is at the far window. Patty, in the middle.

The story is about her mother's actor friends and a fat woman who wanted to play Ophelia. They were rehearsing a play in an English country town. It wasn't
Hamlet
as such. It was sort of a take on
Hamlet
. Or maybe a take on Ophelia. Agatha says, no matter how many times she heard it, she'd never been able to work out which.

While Agatha tells her story, a stillness comes over the car; there is only her voice and the ticking of the engine.

The story frightens Elaine. It makes her feel, not only as if she is there with Agatha, backstage in this country theatre, but almost as if she is Agatha. The musty smell; the taste of dust on the air; the ropes on the ground like snakes underfoot. And all these peculiar people moving around so that she is always in the way; a constant obstacle to the passage of others, never knowing which way to turn, until in the end she sneaks off to sit on her own in the dressing room.

Her mother gone off somewhere, getting her hair done – or so she had said. Elaine could imagine her standing by the door beforehand, waiting on her chance to slip out. Agatha could hear the lunch break being called then she heard the cast and crew go out. She kept expecting the door of the dressing room to open, to hear a voice asking if she'd like to come with them. She could hear their footsteps thudding down the backstage stairs. She could hear them bitching about each other. (He keeps missing his cue!
What do you expect, she never gave me the line!) The iron slam of the backstage door then.

The dressing room was large but Agatha knew her way around it. On two walls there were rows of costumes on rails, a smell of sweat, old perfume, mothballs. A feel of velvet, fur, satin. There was a long shelf with a kettle and biscuits and cups. The mirrors and dressing tables were positioned in the centre of the room so you could walk either side of them. The mirrors were trimmed with bulbs. Agatha knew the dressing room was dark because whenever one of the cast came in they always made a comment like, ‘It's pitch black in here.' Or, ‘Oh my God, I can't see a thing.'

When the lights were on, there was a buzzing sound overhead, and the bulbs on the mirror were hot to the touch when she trailed her hand along them. That day, there was no buzzing overhead, and the bulbs on the mirror were cold. Yet she felt there was somebody else in the dressing room. She said, more than once, ‘Who's there? Is there somebody there?'

‘And was there – was there somebody there?' Serena says.

‘Oh yes,' Agatha says.

‘And they didn't reply? They didn't say a word?'

‘Not a word.'

‘Oh, how cruel,' Serena says, ‘to pretend like that, how—'

‘Shhhh Mom,' Patty says, ‘will you let her just tell it?'

‘I could smell her.'

‘
Smell
her?' Serena asks.

‘Oh, I do that. Elaine always says I'm like a little animal, the way I smell people.'

‘Oh, Elaine… you do not?' Serena says, throwing a look at Elaine for a second.

‘Oh, but I don't mean—' Elaine begins to explain, but Agatha has taken everyone away again, back with her into the dark.

 

She could sense something blocking the space on the far side of the room.

‘You can do that?' Serena asks.

She could hear her breathing. Yes, it was a woman, definitely a woman.

‘Well, thank goodness for that much, anyhow,' Serena says.

‘Mom, will you just keep quiet!'

‘The breathing was odd,' Agatha says, ‘gasping and grunting.'

‘But what was she
doing
?' Rachel asks.

‘At first, it sounded as if she was doing exercises, push ups or something. But then… the grunting, you see.'

‘What? What?' Patty says. ‘Was it, like, something disgusting?'

‘There was another sound then, like a long fart maybe.'

‘She was going to the bathroom!' Patty decides.

‘In the corner of the dressing room?' Rachel says. ‘Why would she do that?'

‘She was…' Agatha pauses. ‘She was trying on Ophelia's dress. And she…'

‘She ripped it!' Rachel says.

‘Yes. She was fat, you see, and knew she would never get to play Ophelia.'

‘But if it was dark,' Rachel says, ‘she wouldn't even be able to see herself in the mirror.'

‘But that was it,' Agatha says, ‘she didn't want to see herself. She just wanted the feel of the dress.'

‘And she definitely knew you were there?' Patty asks. ‘Yes, but she didn't care about that. She just presumed, if she stayed very quiet, that I wouldn't hear her, and even if I did, how could I say for certain it was her. Later when Ophelia – the real Ophelia – discovered the ripped dress, everyone thought it was me. Even my mother, who ended up paying for it to be fixed.'

‘But didn't you say something?'

‘No.'

‘But why?'

‘Because. Well, because I don't know really.'

‘Oh, how cruel,' Serena says again.

 

After Agatha's story, they drive on in silence and then Serena swings the light into Elaine's corner of the car. She says, ‘You've studied
Hamlet
in school, Elaine – right? So what do you think, maybe Ophelia was already a little crazy to start or did, I don't know, life – men – whatever – make her that way? What do you say?'

Elaine feels her mouth dry up and her hands dampen. She turns her red face to the window with a mumble.

Serena says, ‘Well that's okay, honey, you don't have to talk if you don't want. Another time maybe?'

They are almost home when Patty asks, ‘How fat was she
anyhow? The Ophelia woman. Was she fat like Elaine's mom? Sorry, Elaine, but your mom is, like, the fattest person in the neighbourhood.'

‘Patty!' Serena says. ‘That's extremely rude.'

Elaine keeps her face to the window. Through the side-view mirror she sees Agatha and Patty, silently shaking with laughter.

‘I see how she does it,' Agatha says, later on, as Elaine walks her back to her house.

‘Do you really?' Elaine mutters.

‘She coaxes a few words out of one of us, sprinkles them like crumbs on the ground and then the rest of us follow.'

‘Oh, for God's sake!' Elaine snaps.

‘What? For God's sake – what?'

‘Nothing.'

‘What?'

‘Always saying things, just to be clever.'

‘No, I'm not.'

‘Yes, you are. To make yourself sound more interesting. I bet you made up that whole Ophelia story.'

‘I did not.'

‘I bet you did.'

‘You're just needled because I had something to say for myself for a change, instead of always sitting there like a big stuffed toy. Is that it? Because now you're the only one who hasn't contributed to Serena's bloody conversation sessions?'

‘I am not needled. I just find it so false sometimes the way you go on.'

‘
What?
What are you talking about?'

‘All that crap about conversations. First it was bubbles, then slamming doors, now crumbs… Why can't a conversation just be a conversation?'

‘Because that's how I see them,' Agatha says.

‘No it isn't. How can you see something that isn't visible? They're just sounds. How can you see them? And anyway you couldn't see them – you're blind.'

‘How do you know?' Agatha says, her bottom lip beginning to give. ‘How do you know what does and doesn't go on behind my eyes?'