“No.” She seems offended. “Anyway, I am thin.”
“Do you have an enemy to vanquish? Like Buffy?”
“Who’s Buffy?”
“The Vampire Slayer,” I explain. “She’s on TV; she fights demons and vampires-”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she cuts me off tartly. “Vampires don’t exist.”
“Well, nor do ghosts!” I retort. “And it’s not ridiculous! Don’t you know anything? Most ghosts come back to fight the dark forces of evil or lead people to the light or something. They do something positive . Not just sit around watching TV.”
Sadie shrugs, as though to say, “What do I care?”
I sip my wine, thinking hard. She’s obviously not here to save the world from dark forces. Maybe she’s going to shed light on mankind’s plight or the meaning of life or something like that. Maybe I’m supposed to learn from her.
“So, you lived through the whole twentieth century,” I venture. “That’s pretty amazing. What was… er… Winston Churchill like? Or JFK! Do you think he really was killed by Lee Harvey Oswald?”
Sadie stares at me as though I’m a moron. “How would I know?”
“Because!” I say defensively. “Because you’re from history! What was it like living through World War Two?” To my surprise, Sadie looks quite blank.
“Don’t you remember it?” I say incredulously.
“Of course I remember it.” She regains her composure. “It was cold and dreary and one’s friends got killed, and I’d rather not think about it.”
She speaks crisply-but that little hesitation has pricked my curiosity.
“Do you remember your whole life?” I ask cautiously.
She must have memories spanning more than a hundred years. How on earth can she keep hold of them all?
“It seems like… a dream,” murmurs Sadie, almost to herself. “Some parts are hazy.” She’s twirling her skirt around one finger, her expression distant. “I remember everything I need to remember,” she says at last.
“You choose what to remember,” I offer.
“I didn’t say that.” Her eyes flash with some unfathomable emotion and she wheels away from my gaze. She comes to rest in front of the mantelpiece and peers at a photo of me. It’s a tourist gimmick from Madame Tussauds and shows me grinning next to the waxwork of Brad Pitt.
“Is this your lover?” She turns around.
“I wish,” I say sardonically.
“Don’t you have any lovers?” She sounds so pitying, I feel a bit piqued.
“I had a boyfriend called Josh until a couple of months ago. But it’s over. So… I’m single at the moment.”
Sadie looks at me expectantly. “Why don’t you take another lover?”
“Because I don’t want to just take another lover!” I say, nettled. “I’m not ready!”
“Why not?” She seems perplexed.
“Because I loved him! And it’s been really traumatic! He was my soul mate; we completely chimed-”
“Why did he break it off, then?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t know! At least, I have this theory…” I trail off, torn. It’s still painful talking about Josh. But, on the other hand, it’s quite a relief to have someone fresh to download to. “OK. Tell me what you think.” I kick off my shoes, sit crosslegged on the sofa, and lean toward Sadie. “We were in this relationship and it was all going great-”
“Is he handsome?” she interrupts.
“Of course he’s handsome!” I pull out my phone, find the most flattering picture of him, and tilt it toward her. “Here he is.”
“Mmm.” She makes a so-so gesture with her head.
Mmm? Is that the best she can do? I mean, Josh is absolutely, definitively good-looking, and that’s not just me being biased.
“We met at this bonfire party. He’s in IT advertising.” I’m scrolling through, showing her other pictures. “We just clicked, you know how you do? We used to spend all night just talking.”
“How dull.” Sadie wrinkles her nose. “I’d rather spend all night gambling.”
“We were getting to know each other,” I say, shooting her an offended look. “Like you do in a relationship.”
“Did you go dancing?”
“Sometimes!” I say impatiently. “That wasn’t the point! The point was, we were the perfect match. We talked about everything. We were wrapped up in each other. I honestly thought this was The One. But then…” I pause as my thoughts painfully retread old paths. “Well, two things happened. First of all, there was this time when I… I did the wrong thing. We were walking past a jewelers’ shop and I said, ‘That’s the ring you can buy me.’ I mean, I was joking . But I think it freaked him out. Then, a couple of weeks later, one of his mates broke up from a long-term relationship. It was like shock waves went through the group. The commitment thing hit them and none of them could cope, so they all ran. All of a sudden Josh was just… backing off. Then he broke up with me, and he wouldn’t even talk about it.”
I close my eyes as painful memories start resurfacing. It was such a shock. He dumped me by email. By email .
“The thing is, I know he still cares about me.” I bite my lip. “I mean, the very fact he won’t talk proves it! He’s scared, or he’s running away, or there’s some other reason I don’t know about… But I feel so powerless.” I feel the tears brimming in my eyes. “How am I supposed to fix it if he won’t discuss it? How can I make things better if I don’t know what he’s thinking? I mean, what do you think?”