The Memory of Water

¹⁶ THE GHOST BEGINS TAKING OFF HER CLOTHES

The ghost begins taking off her clothes. Heels are kicked off. A cashmere cardigan, a blouse and a pencil skirt all land next to my head. A black camisole. Wrinkled stockings, like shed snakeskin. The smell of Eve’s perfume fills my nose. There is also something else familiar, but I can’t think what it is. Bare-soled and naked she walks towards the bath, turns off the taps and steps in, facing away from me. It’s not Eve. This woman is tall and has dark hair. What is she doing drinking Eve’s tea, bathing in Eve’s bath? I can’t imagine a possible answer.

A pressure starts building up in my chest and I am finding it difficult to keep my breathing quiet. I wonder if it is the beginning of a panic attack and, if so, I have to get out from under here before this woman hears me. I lift myself up on my elbows and begin to inch my way out, leopard crawling with the stealth that comes with being an ex-soldier. For a moment I sense she has heard me and I freeze there on the carpet in the middle of the room, in plain view were she to turn her head. She starts moving again and I am able to slither out of there.

In the passage I almost knock over a pile of boxes that weren’t there earlier, just miss tripping over a suitcase. I see the handbag and am tempted to look for ID but am spooked by voices outside. Perhaps a new shift is starting. I try to look under the front door to see if I can figure out an exit plan but I can’t tell what the shadows mean.

I tiptoe towards Eve’s studio, thinking there must be a way out there. The place is filled with huge windows with no burglar bars. Closer, I see why: the drop down is so high no burglar would chance trying to climb up to break in. I squint in the bad light to see if there is anything I can climb down on. The last window on the eastern side is near a tree and I consider trying to jump onto its branches but am dissuaded by my memory of a) bad luck with climbing trees and b) a particular scene in First Blood, when Rambo ends up with a branch through some part of his body and resorts to stitching it up himself.

I try the back door of the studio kitchen. It is locked, but I have extra keys on the ring Eve gave me and when I turn one of them in the lock it works. The back door leads out onto a narrow ledge used for drying washing and storing rubbish and I have to feel my way along in the dark. At the end of the row I find a metal staircase leading into the underground parking lot. From here it’s plain sailing: I walk out of the pedestrian gate at the entrance and I’m home, free.

As I walk to my car, parked on the next block, I shake my head at the vast amount of trouble I have caused myself in the last few days. Any normal person would not be in this position. Then again, I have done a lot to ensure that I am not a normal person, so I guess I have to deal with the consequences. Usually I am okay with this: as long as I am fucking up my own life, I’m fine with it. But this is different.

This has gone too far.