The Remains of Love (49 page)

It’s like a lunch-club here, she laughs sometimes when she arrives, I eat and do my homework and then go home, and she sits down on the floor of the lounge and takes books and exercise-books from her briefcase, all this history homework they’ve given us, she grumbles, by the summer you’ll have finished with your shenanigans, right? I’m counting on you to help me prepare for the exam, and Dina smiles at her, of course, I’ve been waiting for this for years, though I reckon you can cope easily enough without my help, and sure enough before long she stands up and stretches, that’s it, I’ve finished, she says, I’ll go and see how Grandma is.

What’s going on, why is she sleeping so much? she complains when she returns to the room, I wanted to talk to her, and Dina says, the important thing is, she looks relaxed. She’s dreaming, making up stories, that’s what she likes doing the most. So perhaps we should go for a stroll, Nitzan suggests, it’s really nice outside and by the time we get back she should be awake, and Dina says, good idea, I need some air, I haven’t been out of the house yet today.

No shortage of air round here, Nitzan grins, and sure enough the wind is stalking them, lying in wait among the housing projects, whirling around the mock-archways, playing havoc with their hair until they find themselves almost entangled together. Come on, let’s jump, Orly said to her that time on the roof, let’s die together. Her hair is caught up in Nitzan’s honey-coloured tresses, and she looks at her in wonderment, how beautiful she is, a short black sleeveless coat is wrapped around her, a sweater coloured bright turquoise sets off her regal pallor, and she grips her round the shoulders as they arrive at the fringe of the development, where terraced houses kiss the desert. Look, it’s starting to rain, she says, we should go back, and Nitzan protests, not yet, it’s only drizzling, you remember the first umbrella you bought me? I liked it so much I walked around with it open even indoors, and Dina says, an umbrella wouldn’t do us any harm right now, see that black cloud overhead, and when she looks up she sees a woman coming out to the balcony opposite to get the washing in, is it because she’s just been remembering Orly that she thinks it’s her; sometimes when you think of somebody you come across that person in reality, on the second floor, on a roof-balcony crammed with flowerpots, a full-bodied, beautiful woman, with bronze hair stirring in the wind, gathering up the laundry and hurrying inside, is this her? In the early years she imagined she saw her everywhere, red curls would arouse her hopes, guilt and longing too, again and again she tried to locate her, to glean information about her, without success, is this her? Of course you could examine the mail-box, even ring the doorbell, but you prefer to keep on walking; if not here then somewhere else, where a black cloud is shedding rain, in another house, in another country, does she remember her too on windy days?

This is the wind she now wants to swallow, let it blow inside her, shake her roots, life moves in giant circles, sometimes the life of a human being is insufficient to complete the circle, and those who come after him are incapable of understanding, and in fact she too is far from comprehending the meaning of things, repeating the simple facts is all she’s capable of, something that was and was so, even if today she would have behaved otherwise, and she hugs her daughter and the two of them stride along as the wind frolics about them, trying to blow them into the desert.

I must tell you something, she contacts Gideon in the night and he’s surprised, since her birthday they’ve hardly spoken, you remember Orly? she pants, I think I saw her today in my mother’s neighbourhood, and Gideon isn’t impressed, yes, I know she’s back in the country, I bumped into her in the street a few months ago when I was taking Nitzan to her ballet class, she was waiting for some girl, but I don’t think she lives in Armon Hanatziv. Where then? she asks, stunned by the load of information landing suddenly on her head, and he says, I don’t remember exactly, somewhere outside the city, she was doing some kind of professional survey, she manages a hedge fund if I understood it right, I don’t remember, it was a long time ago. So why didn’t you tell me when you could still remember, why have you hidden this from me? And he says, it’s such a sensitive topic for you, I didn’t know how you’d react, and indeed how will she react, what is this information worth in her life, come to me now, Gidi, she whispers, perhaps this is how she’ll react, and he says, how can I come, there’s a little girl here whose mother has left home, I’m a single parent.

Your little girl is quite big now, she laughs, you can leave her alone for an hour or two, and he grumbles, an hour or two, is that all the time you’re allocating to me? Supposing I want more? A light and mischievous wind blows at them, from those days, from their history, a little comma in the chronicles of the nations, but nearly twenty years out of their lives, and she remembers how he supported her back then, you’ve done the right thing, stop blaming yourself, you’ve been done an injustice, this job should have been yours, and she asks, does she have a family, does she have a husband and children? and he says, she was talking so much I couldn’t take it all in, but she definitely had a child or two with her.        

And what’s a hedge fund anyway? she asks, and he chuckles, is it urgent for you to know that right now? And she says, not really, I can wait until you come round here to explain it to me, and he says, sorry, Dini, there’s no point, the day you say you’re giving up I’ll gladly come to you, but this child of yours is driving a wedge between us, it’s either me or him, and she tries to steady her voice, good night, Gidi, and he sighs, good night, and she sees him lying on their bed, reading without spectacles, the book close to his eyes and sinking over his face when he sleeps, and the little lamp is still on, she doesn’t want to lose him, a last spark remains precious to her heart, a slender reading light, but she can’t give up the child either, and she leaves the bed and wanders round the house, peering into her mother’s bedroom; she’s lying on her back with eyes closed and hands folded on the blanket, her limbs in exemplary order as if arranged in readiness for the coffin, and again she wonders about this new phase in her mother’s existence, she’s turned over the past year into an almost supernatural being.

At a time when most old people of her age are concerned exclusively with their aches and pains, burdening the members of their families with their ailing bodies and soon-to-be-vacated minds, her mother of all people is succeeding in hovering above the needs of her corporeal existence, she doesn’t ask for anything and doesn’t complain, letting Rachela wash her limbs and change her nappies, munching obediently and swallowing her medications, and beyond this she is barely present in reality, and yet, in a few moments of lucidity she surprises them with clear and rational observations, until it seems to Dina she’s only pretending to be asleep, she’s listening to them as attentively as ever, monitoring their activities as if wanting to know how they will run their lives after her death, located in a kind of third form of existence, which isn’t life and isn’t death, isn’t growing and isn’t static.

How simplistic is this crude distinction, her mother is trying to say, as it seems the very qualities that made her life difficult are good for her in her latter days, there are those who live well and those who die well, and indeed, how well her third form of existence suits her, a new nobility is perceptible in her features, oy, Mum, in the very place where all are withering you are flourishing, she says aloud, and her mother opens her eyes and smiles a mischievous smile at her, and she has no idea if there’s deep understanding in it or utter detachment, and she flops down, exhausted, in the armchair facing her. How do they know what’s the right thing to do? How do they know where the mistakes lie? After all, only with the passage of the years does the full picture become entirely clear, and although her mother is silent it seems to her she knows the answer, knows there is no answer, apparently most things aren’t absolutely right or absolutely wrong, the question is what are we to do with them, and again a smile rises to her lips and her fingers move on her arm in circular patterns as if she were holding a pen and writing, and Dina sprawls in the armchair and in some implausible fashion she feels protected, more so than she has ever felt before. How can this moribund old woman protect her? What a comical thought, and yet firm and enduring, and it seems to her if she falls she’ll catch her, and her grasp will be as soft as this blanket that she pulls from the open wardrobe and wraps around herself and thus she falls asleep, sitting in the armchair facing her smiling mother, just as well Gideon didn’t come, she thinks, nights with him have become more of the same to me and a night like this hasn’t happened yet, and nor will it, because everything’s bound to change.

In the morning the ringing of the phone wakes her, and she’s just a little bit excited seeing his name on the screen, perhaps he regrets refusing me, perhaps he’ll suggest he comes round tonight, but he’s being hard and practical, Nitzan came home early this morning and since then she’s been lying on her bed in floods of tears, crying incessantly, he reports, she won’t tell me what’s happened. I have to leave soon, so you’d better come home and relieve me, she can’t be left alone, and she says, of course, I’m on my way, dressing hastily and saying goodbye to Rachela, who’s already busy in the kitchen, humming some mournful tune. What’s happened to her, what can this be, only yesterday they parted company and everything was fine, it must be that boy, only the pains of love drive girls to take to their beds, and when she enters the building Gideon is already on the stairs, nearly a month since she’s seen him and her heart goes out to him, so you didn’t have a girl at home last night, she remembers, you could have come to me.

Let me know if you get anything out of her, he cuts her short and she says, of course, will you be back by four, I’m teaching this afternoon, and he replies, no problem, and already he’s disappeared, and she stands on the threshold of the apartment, which looks to her suddenly spacious in comparison with her mother’s house, surprised to find just how well the apartment is functioning without her. Clean and orderly it’s all set out before her, the sink empty of utensils and the fridge full, the cat dozing on the sofa, sleek and pampered, and she goes into Nitzan’s room, the curtain is flapping vigorously over the bed, a cold breeze is blowing and she hurries to close the window, but a sharp cry from the bed stays her arm, don’t close it, I need air, I’m suffocating.

What’s happened, Nitzi, she sits down beside her and tries to draw the fragile form towards her, but her daughter recoils from her touch, leave me alone, she yells and throws off the blanket, face flushed and eyes swollen, and Dina coaxes her, tell me what’s happened, let me help you, and her daughter shakes her head tearfully, I’m beyond help, I want to die.

Relax, sweetheart, that’s how you feel now but in a day or two you’ll feel better, she promises her, what’s happened, has he left you? and Nitzan peers at her in astonishment through the tangled mass of wet hair, who? and after a moment of confusion she asks her, how do you know? And Dina says, I saw you here together a few months ago, I still don’t know why you needed to lie to me.

Because he’s older than me, Nitzan wails, I was afraid if you knew how old he was you wouldn’t let me see him, he’s nine years older than me, and Dina says, that really is a huge gap at that age, amazed to hear how much authority her daughter attributes to her, the power to separate a pair of lovers. So all this time you’ve been together? she asks carefully, and Nitzan sits up and leans against the wall, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand, not exactly, she says, he really wanted that but I was scared, it took me a long time before I started trusting him, and now I regret it so much, she groans again, pulling the blanket over herself, and Dina asks, what is it you regret?

On Sabbath I had the house to myself, she whispers urgently, Dad wasn’t here, so I invited him and we were together all day, and in the end you know what, it happened, for the first time, because I always wanted to wait, I felt it was too soon for me, but on Sabbath we were having such a good time together and I thought well, why not, I love him so much and he loves me, and then he didn’t contact me but I wasn’t worried, I reckoned he was busy, and yesterday I went to his house after I’d been at your place, and he was kind of cold, like we were strangers. And suddenly he said he was already moving on, he’s met up with his ex and decided what he really wants is to go back to her, and that was after we slept together, I’ll never go with anyone again as long as I live, and Dina absorbs the painful information in silence, her body tensed and the words thumping her with clenched fists. This hasn’t happened, why did it happen, she’ll make sure it doesn’t happen, but it’s already happened, the moment came and she was incapable of doing anything to help her, how bitter is the total powerlessness of the all-powerful mother, how easy it was to cheer her up when she was little, a sweet on a stick, an ice cream tub, the moon in the sky, and now what, on the very threshold of her love-life she’s been dumped, and she feels she could happily rip that boy to shreds, how dare he violate her youth, like twins in the womb they lay on that bed, half-clothed, how shocking the sight had been, did she see the desertion there between them, this was exactly the way her twin brother abandoned her on the very threshold of her life, leaving her to tremble alone in the dark like a frightened rabbit.

I’m sorry, my darling, she sighs, cautiously caressing the scrawny arm, it really is terribly hard but everyone goes through it one way or another, the main thing is not to take any blame on yourself, don’t let it damage your confidence, and Nitzan interrupts her, oh, Mum, it must be my fault, I disappointed him, and that’s a fact, if he wanted me so much, how come everything changed? And Dina protests, that’s nonsense, there are some men around who lose interest once they’ve got what they’re after, and that’s their problem, how can you blame yourself? There’s poison in that way of thinking, steer well clear of it.