Her Fearful Symmetry

Martin asked, “Would you like some cake?” Julia shook her head. “I think I will have a small piece,” he said. He delicately cut a sliver of cake and laid it on a plate, then ignored it as he continued to smoke. “Elspeth thought that there was a limit to how far the twin relationship should go, in terms of each person giving up their own individuality. She felt that she and your mother had exceeded that boundary.”

“How?”

Martin shook his head. “She didn’t tell me. You ought to ask Robert; if she told anyone it would have been him.”

“Robert Fanshaw? We haven’t met him yet.”

“Hmm. I’d have thought he’d’ve been round to introduce himself first thing. How odd.”

“We’ve knocked on his door, but he’s never home. Maybe he’s out of town,” Julia said.

“I just saw him this morning. He arranged for your ceiling to be repaired.” Martin smiled. “He ticked me off properly for a

“Huh. I wonder how come-I mean, what’s he like?”

Martin ate a bite of cake and Julia waited while he chewed and swallowed. “Well, he was very devoted to Elspeth. I think perhaps her death has unhinged him a bit. But he’s a good fellow, he’s very patient with all my mishaps.”

“Do you have a lot of-um, should we expect the ceiling to cave in all the time?”

Martin looked embarrassed. “That’s only happened once before. I’ll try very hard not to do that again.”

“Do you have a choice about it?”

“There’s a little bit of leeway. Usually.”

Julia felt dizzy from all the cigarette smoke. “Can I use your washroom?”

Martin said, “Of course.” He pointed towards the servant’s room. “There’s one in there.” Julia rose unsteadily and made her way through the box-filled room into the tiny bathroom. There were more boxes stacked in the bathtub. It must be like living in a self-storage unit. She used the toilet and splashed water on her face and felt better. When she got back to the kitchen she said, “So what’s in the boxes? I mean, it looks like you just moved in.”

Martin regarded her tolerantly. “All right, Miss Pandora Poole. As a special treat you may open a box.”

“Any box?”

“Maybe. I can’t always remember what’s in them, so it doesn’t much matter which box.”

They both stood up. It’s like Easter. Or Christmas. “Any hints?”

“No,” he said. “Most of them aren’t too exciting.” They moved into the dining room. Julia stood staring at the towering piles of boxes. Martin said, “Perhaps you could pick one from the top? So we don’t have to shift them all?”

Julia pointed at a box and Martin carefully took it off the pile and handed it to her. It was embalmed in tape, so he went and got a Stanley knife. She put the box on the floor and sliced into it, kneeling beside it. When she opened the box Martin stood back as though it might explode.

It was full of plastic. At first Julia thought plastic was the only thing in the box, but as she delved into it she realised that there were a number of items, each wrapped in plastic and taped. She looked up at Martin. He stood in the doorway, nervously tugging at his gloved fingers. “Should I stop?” she asked.

“No. Unwrap something.”

She groped in the box and pulled out a small plastic package. She unwrapped it slowly. It was an earring, a single pearl in an elaborate silver setting. She offered it up to Martin. He leaned forward to look. “Ah,” he said. “That’s Marijke’s. She’ll want that back.” He did not take it from Julia.

She said, “Do you think the other earring is in here?” He nodded. She went through the box until she found a similar package. When she had both earrings Julia stood up. She went to Martin and held out her hand. He cupped his gloved hands together and she put the earrings into them. Then she put all the plastic back in the box, and placed it back on the pile. She didn’t want to know what else was in there. They went back to the kitchen and stood awkwardly next to their chairs. Martin put the earrings carefully into Valentina’s teacup. He said, “Sometimes a thing is-too much-and it has to be isolated and put away.” Martin shrugged. “So what’s in the boxes is-emotion. In the form of objects.” He looked at Julia. “Is that what you wanted to know?”

“Yes.” It seemed like a completely sensible system. “Thank you.”

“Any other questions?”

She stared at her shoes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-it was nice of you-” She stopped because she was about to cry.

“Hey, hey, it’s all right, child.” Martin put his thumb under her chin and lifted her face. “No harm done.” She blinked at him. “Don’t look so tragic.”

“I felt like I really was Pandora for a minute there.”

“No, not at all. But I’m going to send you home now, I think.”

“Can I come again?” It seemed urgent to Julia, to know.

“Yes,” said Martin. “That would be delightful. You know, you’re very like your aunt. Please do visit again. Any time,” he added.

“Okay,” said Julia. “I will. Thank you.” They navigated the aisles between the boxes until they stood at Martin’s front door. He watched as Julia disappeared, foreshortened, down the stairs. She stopped and waved just before vanishing. He heard her door open and close, heard her calling “Mouse!” and an answering call. “Goodness,” Martin said to himself, and turned and shut his door.

Her Electrical Nature

IT WAS a dreary Saturday evening in mid-February. Rain was lashing the windows; Elspeth wondered if perhaps that would wash any of the grime off them. Julia and Valentina were eating their di

Elspeth hovered above them, lying on her stomach, chin resting on folded arms. Isn’t there anything else on TV? She was a snob about science fiction and hadn’t seen an episode of Doctor Who since the early eighties. Eh, I suppose it’s better than nothing. She watched Julia and Valentina watching the television. They ate their soup slowly from mugs and looked keen. Elspeth happened to glance at the screen in time to see the Doctor walk out of the TARDIS and into a defunct spaceship.

That’s David Te