The Memory of Water

⁴⁴ STILL SKIN

I find some flammable liquid in the studio. I am numb so I can’t tell what it is, but I know it will burn. I soak Denise’s clothes and then cover her body with them. Susannah’sclothes. Susannah’s body. Pour it in her hair. Empty it onto her. Drops bounce off her still skin.

There is a thought that keeps knocking, but I try to keep the door closed. It starts like this… if I am capable of murdering Denise… and then I shut it out. It comes back over and over again. If I am capable of murder… and with it comes flashbacks of Eve’s ivory face, Emily’s marble body. The thoughts slow me down until I am still and I put my head in my hands and bellow as loudly as I can to drown them out.

I find more bottles and douse the rest of the place. I paint the wall with it. The white paper flutters and turns translucent. After the studio is done I move into her bedroom and soak everything in there too. The taped-up cardboard boxes; the near-empty cupboards; the curtains; the pillows. I hear sirens in the distance. They know I am here: they have tracked me down. I start looking for a lighter, or matches. I attack the kitchen drawers, hauling everything out and dumping it on the floor. My fingerprints are everywhere. Nothing in the kitchen, nothing in the passage cupboard. Back in the studio I pillage the drawers. Blindly I loot and sack and strip until I see something I recognise. Not a lighter, but a sheet of cream-coloured paper. My body wants to keep searching for fire but this thing stops me. I pull it out, feel it between my fingers. My senses are coming back. It is thick, textured. I take it towards the lamplight. The top centre is embossed with decorative circle: a bit like a wheel.