Audrey Niffenegger - Her Fearful Symmetry

It was a delicate thing, their private world. It required absolute fidelity, and so they remained virgins, and waited.

J ULIA PRESENTED herself at Martin’s door at exactly four o’clock the next afternoon; Valentina had had an attack of shyness and refused to come. A man had arrived that morning and had begun to repair their bedroom ceiling, so Julia felt she ought to keep her promise.

Julia wore jeans and a white blouse. When Martin answered the door she was startled to see that he wore a suit and tie. He was also wearing latex surgical gloves, which made him look like a TV butler.

“Do come in,” he said. He led her through the flat to the kitchen, which was surprisingly cosy, though the windows were covered in newspaper and tape. “We always eat in here,” Martin said. “The dining room has been taken over by boxes.” He said this as though he had no idea how it had come to pass.

“You have a family?” It had not occurred to Julia that anyone might be married to this crazy person.

“Yes, I have a wife and a son. My wife is in Amsterdam and my son is up at Oxford.”

“Oh. Is she on vacation?”

“I suppose you could put it that way. I’m not really sure when she’s coming back, so I’ve been making shift for myself. Things are a little improvisational here at the moment.” Martin had set out three places at the kitchen table. Julia sat down at the one that faced the back door, in case I need to escape.

“Valentina couldn’t come. She isn’t feeling too well,” Julia said; it was sort of true.

“That’s unfortunate. Another time,” said Martin. He felt pleased with himself; he had contrived, at short notice, a very passable afternoon tea. There were fish-paste sandwiches, as well as cucumber and cress; there was a Victoria sponge cake. He had set out Marijke’s mother’s china, and there was a little jug of milk and a bowl of sugar cubes. He thought it looked quite as nice as what Marijke would have done. “What kind of tea would you like?” he asked.

“Earl Grey?”

He pressed the button on the electric kettle and plopped a tea bag into the teapot. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be done, but one gets lazy.”

“How are you supposed to do it?”

“Oh, you warm the pot, you use loose tea…but I can’t taste the difference, and I drink a lot of tea, so the ritual has devolved somewhat.”

“Our mom uses tea bags,” Julia assured him.

“Then that must be correct,” said Martin gravely. The water boiled (he had actually boiled it a few times before Julia arrived, just to make sure the kettle was working) and Martin made tea. Soon they were both seated, drinking tea and eating sandwiches. Well-being pervaded Martin. He had not realised how much he’d missed sharing a meal with another human. Julia looked up and saw him beaming at her. He might be insane, but he’s very cheerful.

“So, um, how long have you lived here?” she asked him.

“Twenty-some years. We lived in Amsterdam when we were first married, and then we lived in St. John’s Wood. We bought this flat just before Theo was born.”

“Have you always…stayed in?”

Martin shook his head. “That’s a recent development. I used to work at the British Museum, translating ancient and classical languages. But now I work from home.”

Julia smiled. “So they bring the Rosetta Stone and all that here to you?” The twins had been to the British Museum the previous week. Julia thought of Valentina bending over Lindow Man, nearly in tears.

“No, no. I don’t often need the actual objects. They take photographs and make drawings-I use those. It’s all become so much easier now everything is digital. I suppose someday they’ll just wave the objects over the computer and it will sing the translation in Gregorian chant. But in the meantime they still need someone like me to work it out.” Martin paused, then said, rather shyly, “Do you like crossword puzzles?”

“We aren’t very good at them. Mom does the New York Times ones. She tried to teach us, but we can only do Mondays.”

“Your Aunt Elspeth was a whiz at them. I used to set special cryptics for her birthday.”

Julia wanted to ask about Elspeth, but she understood that Martin was actually inviting her to ask him about his puzzles, so to be polite she said, “You make crosswords?”

“I do. I set them for the Guardian .” Martin said this as though he were confessing to a secret identity as a superhero.

Julia arranged her face into what she hoped was an expression of appropriate awe. “Wow. We never thought of anybody making them. They just kind of appear in the paper, you know?”

“It is an underappreciated art form.” Ask her about herself; you’re monopolising the conversation. “What do you do?”

“We don’t know yet. We haven’t decided.”

Martin sipped his tea and looked at Julia quizzically. “Do you often refer to yourself in the first person plural?”

Julia frowned. “No-I mean me and Valentina. We haven’t found anything we both want to do as a profession.”

“Do you both have to do the same thing?”

“Yes!” Julia paused and reminded herself that she was talking to a stranger, not the Mouse. “I mean, we want something we can do together. So maybe we could do two slightly different jobs that fit together somehow.”

“What sorts of things do you each like to do?”

“Well, Valentina likes clothes. She likes to take clothes and make new things out of them, you know, like she might take your suit and slit open the back and make a corset or a bustle or that kind of thing. She’s, like, a slave to Alexander McQueen.” Julia glanced at the place setting meant for Valentina and wondered what her twin was doing; Martin pictured himself wearing a bustle and smiled.

“And you?”

“Um. I don’t know. I like to find out about things. I guess.” Julia looked at her plate as she said this. The rim of the plate was painted with blue morning glories. Why do I feel like I’m at the edge of a hole?

Martin said, “More tea?” Julia nodded. He poured. “You’re quite young, aren’t you? My son doesn’t know what he wants to do yet either. He’s studying maths, but he doesn’t have the passion for it. I imagine he’ll end up in finance and spend all his time planning exotic holidays. Everything he enjoys is somewhat dangerous.”

“Like what?”

“Oh-motorcycling. I think he goes mountain climbing, but no one will confirm or deny that. It’s just as well I don’t know.”

“You worry about him?”

Martin laughed. He hadn’t felt so lighthearted in months. “Dear child, I worry about everything . But yes, I worry about Theo in particular. That’s just the nature of parents. The moment Theo was conceived, I started to worry about him. I don’t think it’s done him a whit of good, but I can’t help it.”

Julia thought of Martin washing the floor. You’re like a dog licking the same spot over and over. “So you wash things?”

Martin leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. “That’s very perceptive. Yes, that’s right.” He looked at Julia and she looked back at him. They each experienced a little jolt of recognition. She thought, He’s insane and I understand him. But maybe he isn’t completely crazy. Like a sort of lucid craziness, like a dream. Martin said, “You like to find out about things. What sort of things?”

Julia tried to put it into words. “Just-everything. I’m curious about things that people aren’t supposed to see-so, for example, I liked going to the British Museum, but I would like it better if I could go into all the offices and storage rooms, I want to look in all the drawers and-discover stuff. And I want to know about people. I mean, I know it’s probably kind of rude but I want to know why you have all these boxes and what’s in them and why all your windows are papered over and how long it’s been that way and how do you feel when you wash things and why don’t you do something about it?” Julia looked at Martin and thought, Now he’s going to ask me to leave. They sat in uncomfortable silence for what seemed a long time. Then Martin smiled.