The Two Hearts of Eliza Bloom

by Beth Miller

  Deb looks thoughtful. ‘That’s very true.’

  ‘I loved Alex. I still love him. When Nathan and I… well, let’s just say that even as I was… getting involved, I knew my heart wasn’t in it.’

  ‘So, what are you going to do now, GG?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I cuddle a soft velvet cushion. ‘I’ll give it a couple of days, then talk properly to Leah. Alex thinks she will be less confused and strung out if me and him aren’t in the same house together, being upset with each other.’

  ‘Personally, I think it’s a lousy idea,’ Deb says. ‘Not that you’re not super-welcome here, of course. But I don’t think you should have let him send you away.’

  I shrug. ‘I messed up, and I’m being punished, and I think that’s right.’ The tears threaten to return, and I force them back. ‘I did lie to him in the past, and I didn’t tell him the truth when he asked me about it afterwards.’

  ‘But “in the past” is right. It’s been and gone. Everyone makes mistakes.’ Deborah shifts in her seat. ‘None of us are perfect, Aliza. Not even Alex.’

  ‘I know. There isn’t anyone perfect. Except you, of course, Deb.’

  She laughs. ‘You’d be surprised.’

  I keep up my usual work routine while I’m staying at Deborah’s, going to school every morning. It’s a schlep from her place, though, and it reminds me horribly of when Alex and I had our ‘lost weekend’ back in 2000. Back then I had to travel from my parents’ house to the school I was working at in Brixton, just a short walk from the flat Alex and I first shared. Now it’s Deb’s place to Stratford, and I’m a deputy head not a teaching assistant, but the feeling of dislocation, of being in the wrong place feels unpleasantly familiar. On the other hand I feel utterly relieved when I walk into school and see everyone, because then normality kicks in. It’s a full and busy day, and I have lovely colleagues and (mostly) terrific kids. There are whole minutes at a time when I forget what’s happened.

  The first evening, going home, I walk with my teaching assistant, Pam, to the station as usual, and automatically follow her on to the platform. It’s only when the train comes whooshing into the station that I remember.

  ‘Oh, Pam, I’m on the wrong platform,’ I say, and burst into tears. She heroically gives up the train and sits with me on a bench until I get a grip.

  ‘I think Alex and me have split up,’ I tell her.

  ‘But you’re the strongest couple I know,’ she says.

  I used to think that too.

  Every evening on the way back to Deborah’s, I phone Leah and chat to her about her day. She is reticent, but occasionally tells me something that has happened. She has rebuffed my suggestion to meet and talk several times, and so, trying to be where she’s at, I don’t ask any awkward questions. I tell her that I love her. I hang up, have a little cry, get over myself, and by the time I get to Deb’s I’m ready to help her with the children, read to them and play with them. We eat together, usually with Michael, and make uncontroversial pleasantries, then when I go to bed I phone Alex. If he answers, which he doesn’t always, he gives me an anodyne account of his day, which consists of work and the gym and trying to get Leah to do her homework. He asks after my day, and I tell him in the same quick and insipid style. Then I text Leah good night, tip the many cushions off the spare bed, and try and go to sleep.

  Deb and Michael invite me to join them for the Seder, the celebration of the first night of Passover. The other guests are Michael’s father, and Deb’s unmarried sister Pearl, who drinks the spare glass of wine put out for the Angel Elijah when Michael’s not looking. Deb’s kids run round in hysterics looking for the afikomen, the hidden matzo, and we sing the songs I remember, word for word, though I haven’t sung them for many years. Eli and Noam are too little, really, to take on ‘Mah Nishtanah’, though they are the youngest, and Pearl steps in as the next youngest, singing it in a high, clear voice that reminds me of Gila’s. Why is this night different from all other nights? Because I am not home, where I should be. My heart aches, thinking about Alex and Leah, and wondering what they’re doing.

  In the morning I make Deborah and the kids a traditional Passover breakfast after Michael’s gone to shul. Jews aren’t meant to cook on the Sabbath but that’s a prohibition I shrugged off years ago, and Deb’s not complaining. She calls me her Shabbos Goy. You’re not permitted to do any work on the Sabbath, including one I’d forgotten about till I go to the bathroom: tearing off pieces of loo roll. There’s a neat pile of squares of paper, prepared the day before by Deb’s fair hand. It makes me smile, thinking about what Alex would say about that.

  As I cook the matzo-brei, I remember my first big argument with Alex, when I discovered he had already eaten it, made by someone else, one of his exes. Ah, those fraught early days of our relationship! And ah, the fraught later days of our relationship now. I have never made matzo-brei for him, and that might have been just as well, because I burn the first one and have to throw it out; the second is rubbery, though Deb says it’s nice.

  Twenty-Seven

  December 2000

  I was rushing about getting my things together when Alex came in from work. Things had settled down between us since the return-to-the-fold argument, but weren’t quite back to normal. We were slightly wary of each other, our interactions a little more formal than before.

  ‘Hi!’ I waved across the room. ‘I’m off to see Zaida.’ I needed to get there early, before Shabbos.

  He nodded, went to the sink and poured himself a glass of water.

  I glanced at the clock – I thought I’d be long gone before he got back. It was only 12.30; Fridays were his half-day but he usually worked till 2 p.m.

  ‘You’re back early, Al. Are you OK?’ I put some grapes in a plastic tub. Zaida loved them and they didn’t seem to have much fruit at the home.

  Alex drank down the glass in one go and filled it again. ‘I don’t feel well.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. What’s wrong?’

  ‘Don’t know, I feel like shit.’ He drained a second glass, then slumped into a chair.

  Though I wanted to get going, I went over and put my arms round him.

  He leaned against me. ‘I just…’ he began, then stopped.

  ‘What?’

  He pulled out of our embrace. I looked at him properly. His skin was pale and there were deep black circles under his eyes. I sat next to him, and he put his hand on mine.

  ‘What’s the story, Eliza?’

  ‘What story?’

  ‘Come on, you know. What’s going on? You’re never here when I’m here. You’re always running out the door. You’d have been gone if I’d come back at my normal time.’

  ‘Is this why you’re “feeling ill”?’ I felt bad as soon as I said it. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean it.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, it’s a fair question. Maybe. I’ve felt out of sorts for weeks.’

  ‘Since I started seeing my family again?’

  He nodded.

  ‘But that’s so unfair, Alex! You’ve got all your family around you. You have no idea what it’s been like to be on my own.’

  ‘Eliza. Darling. You aren’t on your own.’

  ‘It felt like I was.’

  He blew out his cheeks. ‘Wow, that makes it sound like I don’t count at all.’

  ‘Well, after that thing, you know, at Brighton, with Vicky, I didn’t feel so welcome here.’

  ‘Ah Jesus, Eliza! You know Vicky means absolutely nothing to me. Less than nothing!’

  ‘And I miss my family.’

  He drank some more water. ‘Look, I’m totally supportive of you making peace with them.’

  ‘It doesn’t feel like it.’

  ‘Of course I am. I want you to be happy. But you’re there all the time. You’re never here.’

  ‘That’s not true!’

  He shook his head. ‘You’ve stayed over there three nights this week. Sunday, Monday, and Wednesday.’

  ‘Wow, I didn’t kn
ow you were keeping notes.’

  ‘I’ve missed you. Surely we can sort out a compromise? Can you maybe stay there a couple of nights a week or something?’

  ‘I didn’t see them for nearly a year, and now you want to restrict me?’

  ‘I don’t want to restrict you. I just want to spend time with you. And your family. I’d like to meet them.’

  ‘You’d like to meet my dad?’

  ‘Well, maybe we could start with the easy ones. Your Zaida. And Dov, he sounds great.’

  ‘I don’t know, Alex.’ The thought of my two worlds coming together made me feel panicky. Trapped. I was two different women now, and I didn’t know whether I could merge them. ‘A bit later on?’

  ‘Perhaps you’re ashamed of me.’

  ‘Of course I’m not!’

  He gave an odd little smile. ‘It’s our first anniversary next week.’

  ‘No, we married on January first.’

  ‘December sixteenth was the day we ran away together, the day we were engaged. The happiest day of my life. But I think perhaps you regret it now.’

  ‘Don’t be silly. I only want to see everyone at home.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake!’ Alex shouted, and thumped his fist on the table, knocking over his water glass and making me jump. Making me remember that I used to jump when he touched me. How had things deteriorated so fast? I had never before seen him lose his temper. I automatically slid my hands down to the sides of my chair but of course, there were no grooves to rest my fingers in, no safety in the storm. I got to my feet, grabbed a cloth from the sink and started mopping up the water.

  ‘Just fucking leave it, will you?’ he said, pulling the cloth from my hand.

  ‘Why are you so angry?’

  ‘You called your parents’ house “home”.’ He crumpled the cloth into a ball and hurled it in the direction of the sink. ‘You never call this flat home.’

  ‘Well it isn’t my home, is it?’ My own resentment, as suppressed as Alex’s, flickered into life. ‘It’s Rachel’s home, and Helena’s home.’

  ‘You don’t really think that, do you?’ The anger was gone from his voice.

  ‘I’m probably just passing through, like they were. I expect Vicky will be the next one along.’

  ‘Ah seriously? Vicky?’

  I thought of them kissing. Probably he hadn’t really pushed her away. It was nothing to him. ‘I’m just another one on your long, long list.’

  ‘Jesus, Eliza, we’re married. I love you. If that’s how you feel, that this isn’t your home, let’s move house. I can’t bear for you to feel like that. We can start looking for somewhere else today.’

  ‘I can’t.’ I stood up. ‘I’m going to see my family today.’

  ‘Oh, god.’ His shoulders sagged. ‘I feel lousy. I’m going to go and lie down.’

  ‘That’s a good idea. I’ll leave you to it.’

  Were those tears in his eyes? I looked away.

  ‘Are you coming back tonight?’ He said.

  ‘Well… it’s tricky, because it’s the Sabbath, so I can’t really travel back.’ I mumbled this, because I knew he wouldn’t like it, but he heard me fine.

  ‘Because those are laws you’re starting to keep again?’

  ‘I can come back if you really want me to,’ I said.

  ‘I want you to really want to,’ he said, and went out. I heard the bedroom door close.

  I felt furious he’d made it seem as if reconnecting with my family was a bad thing. He should be happy for me. I snatched up my bag, and walked briskly to the tube. To push Alex out of my mind, I focused instead on that day a month ago, when I came into the annex, bareheaded, and Nathan stood there almost naked in his towel. His expression as he stepped towards me, caught hold of my hand and raised it to his lips; the heat of his breath on my hand. The thrill of the forbidden touch shook through me. Scarcely knowing what I was doing, I pulled my hand away, and we stared at each other. There was a moment when something else could have happened, but I was too afraid. I mumbled something about returning later, and backed out of the annex without waiting for his reply.

  I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

  First stop was to visit Zaida, who was delighted to see me, though he seemed vaguer than last time, and then I went to Mum’s. I was pulled straight away into the little family dramas, and though I’d only intended to stay over on Friday, I decided to stay on Saturday night too. I left Alex several answerphone messages, but he didn’t pick up. Still, a bit of time apart would do us good, cool things down.

  On Sunday morning I went into the annex to make Nathan’s breakfast. Though I’d seen him numerous times since the bath towel incident, it had all been formal and proper between us. But today I felt antsy and unsettled, and he seemed to be the same. I dropped a bowl, and he had a choking fit after some water went down the wrong way, and it was all very odd. The tension stretched out, and I began to feel reckless. So when he asked after Zaida, I decided to show him that I knew what he’d done.

  ‘Zaida’s OK,’ I said. ‘But you know, I don’t think he’s ever been the same since that awful scene with Dad. He still flinches, you know, if anyone raises their voice.’

  ‘I’m so sorry to hear that.’ Nathan clicked his tongue sympathetically, the phoney. ‘That poor man.’ He clearly believed in his own sympathy, which made me absolutely furious.

  ‘Oh, come off it, Nathan!’

  ‘What?’ He was quite the actor, pretending to be all baffled, his spoon halfway to his mouth.

  ‘Don’t act all innocent. I know it was you who grassed on me to Dad that I’d been visiting Zaida.’

  ‘Grassed?’ Nathan put the spoon down. ‘Do you mean told? It wasn’t me.’

  ‘Of course it was! How else could he have known?’ I stood up, unable to sit still any longer, and started clearing the table, though he hadn’t finished. ‘There’s no way that Dov would have told him.’

  ‘I don’t know how Kap found out, Aliza, but I swear, it was nothing to do with me.’

  ‘Bullshit.’

  ‘Nice mouth you’ve got on you, since you went out there.’ He gestured to the Real World outside the house. ‘You really think I would do anything, anything at all, to hurt Moshe? That lovely man?’

  ‘You bloody hypocrite!’ I slammed empty plates on top of full ones, till I couldn’t hold any more. ‘You didn’t expect it would backfire on to Zaida, you were just hoping to get me into trouble. Well, let me tell you—’

  Nathan stood up, and in one fluid movement he leaned across the table, across my armful of crockery, and kissed me full on the lips. There was no warning at all. I was so shocked, I kissed him back. For a few astonishing, suspended-in-time seconds, we were kissing. I can’t say, even now, how it happened or what it was like. It was as if it was happening to someone else, in a film. The image of Alex kissing Vicky flickered into my head, but before I could even think of anything more, Nathan pulled away.

  ‘What was that?’ I said, gaping at him.

  ‘I needed to stop you shouting and swearing at me,’ he said. To my astonishment, his eyes were twinkling. ‘You are your father’s daughter, all right.’

  ‘I’d like to see you kiss Kap to shut him up,’ I said.

  ‘Hmm, maybe not.’ He got up and put on his coat. I didn’t want him to leave, but I couldn’t think of something to say to stop him. Then he turned at the door, and said, ‘I didn’t tell your father, Aliza. For some reason, it matters a great deal that you believe me.’

  ‘Who did tell him, then?’ I refused to believe Nathan, despite his seeming sincerity. There wasn’t anyone else it could be. I couldn’t bear to think that Dov might somehow have blurted it out. No, he never would have.

  ‘I have no idea. I’m going to visit Moshe later, about two, if you want to be there at the same time so he doesn’t worry about where your “young man” is.’

  He went out, and I stood there, staring at the door. After a few moments, I shook myself, dumped th
e plates in a heap on the table, and sat down with a thud. My mind was churning, the ant-like thoughts crawling all over it. Everything was so confusing.

  In many ways, I was the happiest I had been for a long time. Perhaps ever. Mum, Dov and Gila were thrilled to have me back in their lives. My other brothers were more respectful of me than they’d ever been. Dad was not his old self at all, and that could only be a good thing. Sure, he wasn’t talking to me. But he wasn’t yelling or hitting me – or anyone – either. Joel’s description, a good way of putting it, was that Dad had been ‘de-fanged’.

  Here was the big ant that kept running round in my mind. The biggest one – the Queen Ant. This was the first time I’d even been able to articulate it to myself: had Ha-Shem sent Alex so I could find out what my family meant to me? And now I had found that out, what did it mean for me and Alex?

  After a morning helping Mum and Becca clean the house, I was late to what I now thought of as my appointment with Nathan. I rushed down the corridor at Beis Israel and burst into the living room in time to hear Nathan say, ‘She’ll be here soon, Moshe.’ He looked up, and broke into a grin. ‘See, what did I tell you? I conjured her up.’

  I threw my arms round Zaida, and over the top of his head, mouthed ‘thank you’. The two of us sat on either side of Zaida while he chattered away, reminiscing about the past and about our wedding, which he was now convinced he’d been to. Luckily for me, he didn’t mention the fake photo – I wasn’t sure how far Nathan’s new understanding persona would go if he discovered there was a pictorial record of our non-existent marriage. Zaida nonetheless embarrassed us both hugely by asking if there were any little ones on the way – ‘Not yet,’ Nathan said, his face the colour of pomegranate seeds – but he didn’t try and join our hands together again. I kept thinking he might.

  Dov wasn’t able to come today, so Nathan and I left together, with no one to chaperone us. It felt subversive walking through the front garden of the home, even though we were several feet apart from each other. Nathan held open the front gate to let me through, and as I smiled at him, I saw Alex standing across the road. I came to a complete standstill and Nathan almost walked into me.