The Visitors

Marion took a compact out of her handbag to check her lipstick. The color was called “Sunberry” and was supposed to “intensely moisturize” the skin of the lips. She thought the pinkish-gold shade looked attractive with the highlights in her hair. The beige suit she was wearing had been purchased from Pennington’s department store a few days earlier. She had also stopped at the makeup counter and acquired the lipstick along with mascara and a powder compact. She hadn’t yet used the mascara—it was the first bottle she owned in her life—and wanted to practice more before wearing it in public.

Buying clothes had become something of a pleasure for Marion since she had slimmed down. In the weeks and months preceding her move to Ocean Vista Court the pounds had simply dropped away, but she had to be careful not to put the weight back on again. When Edward arrived, she would order only one small chocolate éclair, and they would have a very long walk afterwards.

Marion saw a haggard-looking woman pass the window. It shocked her to realize it was Judith. Her former neighbor had changed so much, Marion hardly recognized her. A shabby brown cardigan was wrapped around her stooped form, the gray roots of her hair were showing, and she wore no makeup. Poor Judith.

Her art gallery had now closed and there was a big Under New Management sign in the window. There was a For Sale sign up outside her house too. Marion wondered if she would move in with Greg or even if they were still together. She had not spoken to Judith for a long time. Perhaps she never would again. And she doubted she would ever know how Lydia’s life turned out either.

Of course since moving to Ocean Vista Court, Marion had lost all contact with her brother. She doubted if he even knew or cared where she was living now. At times she did miss the old John, but not that scruffy, bearded tramp she sometimes glimpsed walking around town with stains on his trousers and dirty white trainers on his feet.

The day she left Grange Road she didn’t even tell her brother she was going; instead, she waited until he was down the cellar and then walked out the front door, taking almost nothing with her, except her coat and handbag. The first night in her flat she had slept on the bare mattress in Aunt Agnes’s bedroom.

Like a bride she had started from scratch, buying everything: underwear, clothes, bedding, furniture, pots and pans. How strange to have lived so much of her life without appreciating the pleasure of money. Before it frightened her. Now she had learned that having money was like wearing well-made shoes or lying on a soft bed. It was simply something that made life easier.

Of course they were always with her. Sometimes she felt them, like a lump beneath the skin that your fingers accidentally brush against in the shower. Yet Marion endured this as she had endured many unpleasant things over the years. Grief for the baby settled in her bones, and she still felt a twinge, from time to time, but if the poor thing had lived, then who would have looked after it? She now realized that the demands of a small child would have been far beyond her own capabilities. Certainly they wouldn’t allow a baby at Ocean Vista Court. And imagine having to change all those nappies and prepare special food, all those sleepless nights. Why, I can hardly look after myself, she would remind herself, never mind an infant.

“I just couldn’t live with myself.” Wasn’t that what people said when they had done something dreadful and found themselves forced to confess all to the world? Marion had come to believe this was a lie and that it was, in fact, perfectly possible to carry on with the knowledge of one’s horrible deeds and never tell a soul. Perhaps others had discovered this too and went about their lives filled with unseen rottenness, like jars of half-used jam that have been sitting at the back of the cupboard for so long, you are afraid to unscrew the lid.

At that moment, Edward came into the café with Treacle. The little dog saw Marion even before his master and began pulling his lead urgently towards her table. He always seemed pleased to see her. Didn’t that mean perhaps that she wasn’t entirely bad? Weren’t animals supposed to sense things about people? Or was she just fooling herself; did the dog just run towards anyone he recognized?

“Marion, you look well. Is that a new suit?” said Edward. He was such a gentleman, always knowing exactly the right thing to say. When she looked at him, Marion felt a fierce happiness that was tinged with terror, as if she were crossing some deep chasm on a high wire, and a single breath of wind might send her tumbling thousands of feet to her death. And then she allowed herself to be kissed on the cheek.

To @kdubrovna

From @ametcalf2

July 1st

Hi Kristina

Thanks for adding me! Love your profile and great pictures. You say that you want to improve your English so perhaps we can chat from time to time. A few things about me . . . I am twenty-one and grew up in a pretty seaside town in the UK. I like skiing, playing the guitar and sailing. When I finish uni I hope to become a teacher. I’m quite shy around girls and sometimes feel awkward when I meet them at parties. That’s why I prefer getting to know people online first. I hope we can be good friends!

Adrian

Catherine Burns's books