coffee. ‘I always argued with my sister too.’
‘I know it’s normal, but I regret it now. Every nasty word I said to her, every mean thought.’ My voice quavers.
Raoul puts his hand on top of mine.
‘You mustn’t start thinking like that, Elisa, or you’ll go under. Do you think I don’t suffer from regrets?’
I avoid meeting his eyes.
I take a tissue from my handbag, blow my nose and sit there holding it. When I look up, Raoul is staring straight at me and for a couple of breathtaking seconds our eyes lock.
‘We’ve all got something we could reproach ourselves for,’ he says. ‘I was always nagging her – about not being home enough, about the school taking over her life, about there not being enough time left for me.’ He laughs briefly and joylessly.
‘Well, that was true,’ I say. ‘She was always going out in the evenings, or having to telephone one of her students…I found it irritating, but at the same time I admired her for it. If Lydia dedicated herself to something she did it body and soul.’
Raoul’s hand balls into a fist. ‘And to think that one of her beloved students put a bullet through her head.’
‘You don’t know that,’ I say.
‘I do know that!’ Raoul rages. ‘I should never have let her goout on her own. I should never have left her alone for a second! Damn, damn, damn!’
People around us look up in surprise. He hides his face in his hands and makes choking noises.
I shunt my chair closer to his and put my arm around him.
I can still remember the day Lydia brought Raoul home for the first time. We were twenty-two. She was still living at home and I was living in Amsterdam. It was Sunday and we’d arranged to have lunch at our parents’ house.
Lydia had gone away for the night with Raoul. I came alone and waited with my parents for them to return. We were in the garden. It was a warm spring day – much more pleasant to be in my parents’ park-like garden than in my tiny, roasting apartment.
‘It’s so beautiful here.’ I looked around in admiration. ‘It’s so green. And Dad, your flower beds!’
My father sipped his beer and surveyed his garden, his great love. ‘Thanks, doll,’ he said. ‘If you need any more cuttings for your balcony, just let me know.’
‘I can’t fit anything else on it,’ I said. ‘But one day I’ll buy a house with a garden and then you can get to work on it, okay?’
‘You’ve got a deal.’
‘Have you already met this boyfriend of Lydia’s, Elisa?’ my mother asked.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I think she’s only just met him herself.’
‘What’s only just?’
‘A few weeks at the most,’ I said. ‘They met on the train, I believe.’
‘I wonder what he’s like,’ my mother said.
I wondered too. Despite the fact that Lydia and I are twins, we didn’t like the same type of men and we’d often criticised each other’s choices. Or to be more accurate, she’d criticised mine.
But the moment Lydia strolled into the garden with Raoul, I knew that it was different this time. And when he shook my hand and looked into my eyes, I knew that I had a problem.
Initially I hoped that he’d be a total asshole, but he wasn’t. As well as being gorgeous, Raoul was also considerate, witty, affectionate and warm-hearted. At first, I avoided him as much as possible. I arranged to meet Lydia when I was sure that Raoul wouldn’t be there. But there was no avoiding him on occasions like birthdays. Then I’d withdraw into a corner and listen to my sister’s happy chattering. Lydia had always been more outgoing and over time I got the impression that it annoyed Raoul a little. Lydia’s impulsive, lively character meant that she sometimes cut other people off when they were talking. Once I saw Raoul looking at her in a way that made me wonder, and that night, his eyes rested on me for a few seconds.
When it was time to say goodbye, he pulled me tightly to him. I couldn’t help but feel nourished in his embrace.
‘I know it’s normal, but I regret it now. Every nasty word I said to her, every mean thought.’ My voice quavers.
Raoul puts his hand on top of mine.
‘You mustn’t start thinking like that, Elisa, or you’ll go under. Do you think I don’t suffer from regrets?’
I avoid meeting his eyes.
I take a tissue from my handbag, blow my nose and sit there holding it. When I look up, Raoul is staring straight at me and for a couple of breathtaking seconds our eyes lock.
‘We’ve all got something we could reproach ourselves for,’ he says. ‘I was always nagging her – about not being home enough, about the school taking over her life, about there not being enough time left for me.’ He laughs briefly and joylessly.
‘Well, that was true,’ I say. ‘She was always going out in the evenings, or having to telephone one of her students…I found it irritating, but at the same time I admired her for it. If Lydia dedicated herself to something she did it body and soul.’
Raoul’s hand balls into a fist. ‘And to think that one of her beloved students put a bullet through her head.’
‘You don’t know that,’ I say.
‘I do know that!’ Raoul rages. ‘I should never have let her goout on her own. I should never have left her alone for a second! Damn, damn, damn!’
People around us look up in surprise. He hides his face in his hands and makes choking noises.
I shunt my chair closer to his and put my arm around him.
I can still remember the day Lydia brought Raoul home for the first time. We were twenty-two. She was still living at home and I was living in Amsterdam. It was Sunday and we’d arranged to have lunch at our parents’ house.
Lydia had gone away for the night with Raoul. I came alone and waited with my parents for them to return. We were in the garden. It was a warm spring day – much more pleasant to be in my parents’ park-like garden than in my tiny, roasting apartment.
‘It’s so beautiful here.’ I looked around in admiration. ‘It’s so green. And Dad, your flower beds!’
My father sipped his beer and surveyed his garden, his great love. ‘Thanks, doll,’ he said. ‘If you need any more cuttings for your balcony, just let me know.’
‘I can’t fit anything else on it,’ I said. ‘But one day I’ll buy a house with a garden and then you can get to work on it, okay?’
‘You’ve got a deal.’
‘Have you already met this boyfriend of Lydia’s, Elisa?’ my mother asked.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I think she’s only just met him herself.’
‘What’s only just?’
‘A few weeks at the most,’ I said. ‘They met on the train, I believe.’
‘I wonder what he’s like,’ my mother said.
I wondered too. Despite the fact that Lydia and I are twins, we didn’t like the same type of men and we’d often criticised each other’s choices. Or to be more accurate, she’d criticised mine.
But the moment Lydia strolled into the garden with Raoul, I knew that it was different this time. And when he shook my hand and looked into my eyes, I knew that I had a problem.
Initially I hoped that he’d be a total asshole, but he wasn’t. As well as being gorgeous, Raoul was also considerate, witty, affectionate and warm-hearted. At first, I avoided him as much as possible. I arranged to meet Lydia when I was sure that Raoul wouldn’t be there. But there was no avoiding him on occasions like birthdays. Then I’d withdraw into a corner and listen to my sister’s happy chattering. Lydia had always been more outgoing and over time I got the impression that it annoyed Raoul a little. Lydia’s impulsive, lively character meant that she sometimes cut other people off when they were talking. Once I saw Raoul looking at her in a way that made me wonder, and that night, his eyes rested on me for a few seconds.
When it was time to say goodbye, he pulled me tightly to him. I couldn’t help but feel nourished in his embrace.
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