The Best Things in Life

The Best Things in Life

Alison wasn't expecting to find a parallel universe in her
conservatory. Yet there she was: the other woman, looking so exactly
like herself, standing in that same, self-conscious way, a little
off-balance. Hesitant. And there, near the entrance to the "worm" that
had opened between this universe and the next, there was a corridor
like hers, and behind that, dimly seen, an odd, slightly distorted
domestic interior. She saw it all in a second, in a breath.

Only that morning, sitting in bed with her mug of Assam and the two
cats, listening to the thunderstorm rumbling around the house, she had
heard Melvyn Bragg and his panel of guests talking about parallel
universes, worms, event horizons, black holes. "It is entirely
possible," said the gritty-voiced male scientist, "that we all have our
doppelganger somewhere, living in a world that looks very much like
this one. However, in order to really understand the concept of
parallel universes, our understanding of time, of what we mean by
'time', will have to change as much as our ideas of 'space' have
altered."

He went on to explain that existence could be running on several
parallel planes, with past, present and future all co-existing, like
the lanes of a superhighway. "Sometimes, for reasons nobody
understands," said the radio, " perhaps for only a few seconds, we slip
seamlessly from one time/space existence into another. This may help to
explain what happens when there is psychic or paranormal activity."
Fascinating, thought Alison.

And now, quite out of the blue - or slatey grey, to be more accurate -
here was her double, staring at her, ready to step toward her from the
universe beyond the glistening panels of her new conservatory.

The words of the salesman echoed through her mind, cajoling her like
some old dear. "Now that you've retired, madam, you should be enjoying
all the best things in life. And what could be better than a wonderful,
warm, conservatory where you can relax, read, or enjoy your favourite
hobby."

He had tried to talk her into ordering a full set of motorised roller
blinds, too. "So handy to vary the amount of light and sun you get. And
to provide extra privacy, of course. With the flick of a switch you can
just make the world go away."

But she had rejected the blinds. She didn't want the world to go away;
she wanted to hang onto what little she still had of it. She wanted to
look out and see people passing by. Maybe she also wanted to be
seen.

God knows, Alison thought, I seem to be invisible enough at my age.
When you stop working, people stop asking, "and what do you do?" Stop
thinking you do anything except vegetate. Her former colleagues didn't
ring, didn't visit. She felt awkward ringing them, like an alien
intruder in their stressed and busy lives. They had no time. But she
had too much; suddenly, she had left the fast lane and was bumping
along in second gear on the hard shoulder of life, like a tired,
clapped-out Morris Minor.

All these thoughts crashed and crackled through her like lightning, the
whole dilemma of what she'd thought she was about, and who she really
was, illuminated in the merest instant of comprehension. She gazed into
the eyes of the woman from the parallel universe, and the woman looked
back, with such compassion and honesty. Alison told herself not to lose
this moment; she had to make contact. This opportunity, this mystery
would surely never come again.

But what could she say that the other would comprehend? Compelled by
the same impulse, both women opened their mouths at the same time to
speak, saw the other's desire to communicate, to reach out - and knew
that they already had. For a long, silent moment, they smiled at one
another. Alison's heart felt full. There was healing in the other
woman's gaze.

And then the dark rain clouds parted, sending a shaft of blinding light
into her face, so that Alison had to squint. She was gone! Her visitor
from another time and space had vanished.

Sunlight blazed through the conservatory's prism. Against the steely
sky beyond, the trees pumped shock waves of acid green, as though
someone had thrown a switch under the earth, as though the sap were
neon. Alison slumped down in a wicker chair that faced inward, away
from the garden, the shattering brilliance. She didn't want to
see.

In her logical mind, she knew. It had only been her reflection. A trick
of the light. The best thing that had ever happened in her life?was
nothing at all. Just herself, looking into a sort of mirror.

She would ring that salesman and ask about the blinds. They would
shield her from the sun ?and make the world go away. Maybe it was a
good idea after all.