Audrey Niffenegger - Her Fearful Symmetry

“Do you want a jumper, or anything warm?”

“No, but maybe some more tea?” Robert put the kettle on. He went to change his muddy clothes. When he emerged Valentina was standing at his desk. “Who are all these women?”

The wall above Robert’s desk was covered with postcards, magazine clippings, images printed off the Internet and copied from books, all of women. They radiated in a boxy sunburst pattern from the centre of the wall; there were clusters of them, as though they charted solar systems in a galaxy of women. “Oh. Well, that’s Eleanor Marx, Karl’s daughter. That’s Mrs. Henry Wood. This is Catherine Dickens…”

“They’re all buried at Highgate?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“No men?”

“The men are over here.” He had another galaxy tacked to the adjacent wall. “I’d rather stare at the women when I’m blocked; the men are collectively somewhat dour.”

Valentina turned on the desk lamp, to see better. The kettle whistled and Robert bounded out of the room. He returned with Valentina’s tea and she said, “We saw that painting at the Tate.” She pointed to a postcard in the centre of the wall. “Who is she?”

“That’s Millais’ Ophelia . The model is Elizabeth Siddal.” Robert felt his face flush just as Valentina turned to him. She said, “You have lots of pictures of her.”

“She was Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s muse. He painted her over and over. She was the It girl of the Pre-Raphaelites. I’m a little obsessed with her.”

“Why?”

“Why, indeed? She doesn’t seem to have been especially attractive as a person; she was rather needy and sickly. Perhaps because she was beautiful and died young.” Robert smiled. “Don’t look so worried. It’s a very mild obsession.”

“You seem to have a thing for dead girls,” Valentina said.

She was joking, but Robert replied defensively. “Not because they’re dead. Though unattainability is always attractive.”

“Oh.” What does he mean by that?

Robert cleared a space in the piles of paper and sat down on his desk. He offered her the swivel chair and she spun around 360 degrees with her bare feet stuck out in front of her, holding the mug of tea carefully level. She looked so childish that Robert found it painful to watch her. I think dead girls are the least of my problems at the moment.

Valentina said, “You don’t have very much furniture.”

“No. This place is far too big for me. And too expensive, really.”

“How come you live here, then?”

“It’s all Elspeth’s fault.”

Valentina grinned at him and spun around again. “Same here.” She stretched out one bare foot and stopped her revolution, then spun slowly in the other direction. “Did you move here because she was here?”

“We met in the front garden, actually. I was poking around because there was a To Let sign and I’d been looking for a flat that bordered the cemetery, because I wanted one of those little doors, you know, in the garden wall…So there I was, writing down the estate agent’s number, when Elspeth hops out of the front door and says she’s got the key and would I like to see the flat? Of course, I say Yes, please , because I did want to see it. And she showed me round. And it’s immediately obvious that it’s far too large, but there’s nothing like an attractive woman in an empty flat…” Robert was lost in his story and temporarily oblivious to Valentina. “So I ended up moving in. Though I must say, I was so thickheaded that it took me years to work out that she’d picked me up and not vice versa. I was very young.”

“When was that?”

Robert calculated. “Almost thirteen years ago.”

“Oh.” We were eight years old then. Valentina had a sudden thought. “Why didn’t you live together? I mean, these apartments are huge. It seems funny to have two giant flats for two single people. And it’s not like you have a lot of stuff.”

“No. I don’t, do I?” Robert stared at Valentina’s knees. “Elspeth wasn’t keen. She’d lived with someone once and hated it. I think she felt differently towards the end, when I was taking care of her all the time. I think she realised that it could have worked, us living together. I’m fairly self-sufficient and so was she. She liked to be alone, knowing I was nearby if she wanted me.”

“Our mom is like that.”

“Is she?”

“I think Dad is always kind of confused, you know, sometimes Mom seems like she’s just visiting, she’s super detached, and then she’ll be, like, really fun and sort of more present, you know?” Valentina peered up at him. “Was Elspeth like that?”

Robert paused to sort out her syntax. “Yes,” he said. “Sometimes she was far away, even when she was right there.” He was thinking of a certain way Elspeth had, after they’d made love, of seeming to forget him even as he lay sweat-sticky collapsed over her.

“Yeah, totally. Did Elspeth like to boss everyone? Our mom is always in charge of everything all the time.”

“Hmm. I suppose she did, but then, I enjoy being bossed. I come from a family of aunts, I spent my childhood being ordered about by women.” He smiled at her. “I get the impression that Julia bosses you.”

“I don’t like it.” Valentina made a face. “I don’t want to boss anyone and I don’t want to be bossed.”

“That seems reasonable.”

“What time is it?” Valentina asked. She sat up and put her mug on the desk, suddenly anxious.

Robert glanced at his watch. “Half seven,” he told her.

“Seven thirty? I’ve got to go.” She stood up.

“Wait,” he said. “What’s wrong?” He slid off the desk and stood facing her.

“Julia will freak if she wakes up and can’t find me.”

Robert hesitated. She’ll come back. Let her go. He felt acutely alone even before Valentina turned to leave. He followed her to his back door. She put her hand on the doorknob. Awkwardness overcame them.

“Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?” he asked her.

“Yes.”

“This Saturday?”

“Okay.” She continued to stand there, waiting. It occurred to Robert that he might kiss her, so he did. The kiss surprised him because it had been so long since he’d kissed anyone but Elspeth. It surprised Valentina because she had hardly ever kissed anyone that way-to her, kissing had always been more theoretical than physical. Afterwards she stood with her eyes closed, lips parted, face tilted. Robert thought, She’s going to break my heart and I’m going to let her. Valentina let herself out and padded up the steps. He heard their door latch. Robert stood there trying to sort out what had just happened, failed and gave in to giddy confusion. He made himself a drink and went to bed.

The following Saturday evening Robert presented himself at the twins’ front door wearing a suit. Valentina slipped out and said, “Let’s go.” He had a glimpse of Julia in the hall mirrors, standing forlorn in dim light. He started to wave to her but Valentina was hurrying down the stairs so he followed. He glanced up just as Julia poked her head into the hallway. She scowled at him and closed the door.

He had ordered a minicab. “Andrew Edmunds, in Soho,” he told the driver. They sped through Highgate Village, Kentish Town. Robert looked more attentively at Valentina and saw that she was wearing Elspeth’s clothes, a black velvet dress and a white cashmere wrap which awoke memories of other evenings, years ago. Even the shoes had been Elspeth’s. What does she mean by that? Then he realised that Valentina might not have brought evening clothes with her from America. He thought rather irritably that Elspeth had left the twins more than enough money to buy new clothes. Valentina seemed older in Elspeth’s clothes, as though she had taken on bits of Elspeth. She was staring out of the window. “I never know where I am.”