CLEANER II: Chapter Six - Part Eleven

MELISSA

Dahlia looked awful when she opened the door to her room.

Back at my hotel, when she had shown the confidence to stand up to me there had been an patter of dancing potential energy lifting her features and her limbs. That wasn’t there now. She looked weary and drawn, but surprised that I was there.

I did not visit her. She visited me.

“Uh, hi,” she said, stepping back as though she might invite me in, but there was reservation there and I could see why. The curtains were closed in the room in it was terribly dingy; terribly cluttered; possibly even filthy. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk,” I said. “After... what we discussed. I felt we needed to. Can I come in?”

She took another step back but chewed her lip. Perhaps she was considering suggesting we went down to the bar or something instead but I stepped into the doorway regardless. I could see her reservations but I didn’t care. I wanted in. I didn’t want to wait and I didn’t want to be discussing these things in an open theatre where others could eavesdrop or where she might be afraid they could.

She let me through and I entered as she closed the door behind me.

It was a dingy pit of degradation. It was quite shocking actually. I’d never seen anything like it. Compared to my pristine room at the Satine Palace, this was like a beaver hole. It was revolting. There had been no attempt to keep it tidy or clean over a greatly extended period. There may have been a time when she was on top of it. It looked like one of those dens you see on documentaries of people who have gone off the rails and totally gone to seed.

The evidence of alcohol abuse was everywhere but there was masses in the way of discarded food wrappers and cigarette packets too. I turned my nose up at the sight of it, realising instantly that there would be nowhere to sit. It actually felt like it might taint me, it was that bad. My body recoiled slightly, my skin crawling.

Dahlia loitered by the door, her fingers crumpling at her waist, her face troubled, then she hurried round to the little window and pulled back the curtain. It did little to help and only helped to illustrate how bad it was, defining more piles of detritus.

“I’m sorry it’s so messy in here,” she said. “I... I don’t tend to... After I’ve been cleaning all day I guess I can’t be bothered to clean... in here too.”

I thought about my house with Robert back in the UK. Had it really been so different there? It had never been pristine; a certain degrading creep of filth omnipresent. I knew exactly what she meant. In fact it brought it all back; that deep resentment of the back-breaking labour along with the bitter awareness that I lived in squalor while those who thought themselves better than me lived in the beautiful environment I’d created.

“It’s fine,” I said. “Really. I’ve seen worse. Don’t worry.” I gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m more worried about you. You left so quickly yesterday and we hadn’t really had the chance to talk things through as much as I would have liked. You left so quickly. I’d intended for us to really talk; maybe get a bite to eat together.”

This was a lie now but it occurred to me that it might still be good strategy after all. We could go out to a local restaurant. She could get her fill on more tempting food while I coaxed her along to make the right decision.

“I’m sorry,” replied Dahlia. “I was just... taken aback by what you said. I didn’t know how I felt. It was all so... unexpected.”

My eyelids creased down slightly of their own accord as I questioned that. Was my suggestion to indefinitely swap so out there? Was it really so unexpected? Surely that fantasy had been wound up in everything from the very beginning. I wondered if she knew she was lying to herself; if she really believed that or if she even recognised a thread of lying to me.

I gave her another brief comradely smile. “It’s a lot to consider. I know it is. I’ve questioned it myself. I even questioned my own motivations.” I mimed a chuckle. “All this time I’ve been telling myself this was all for you but deep down there must be a part of me that thrives on it. I mean of course there is. It’s been wonderful to become you. To pretend I was you here in Greece at least. I’m so grateful to you for giving me this opportunity. It’s funny isn’t it? It was only really meant to be a favour to you.”

She squirmed a little uncomfortably.

“I just wanted to reassure you about some things,” I said. “Because I gave you so much information in a short span of time yesterday and... it must have been an awful lot to take in.”

“Yeah. Yeah it was a lot to consider.”

“Everything about how I’d got it organised enough to proceed so quickly,” I said. “Maybe you’d need more time to digest the idea. Decamping right away and going to Thailand... That’s a lot to take in.”

Something flickered on her face like a tick and I tried to read her. We were skirting round the real issue here but we hadn’t dived in at all. For all I knew she had made a firm resolution already. For all I knew she would never go through with it.

My nerves jangled and I wiggled my hands and fingers to relieve a sudden sensation of numbness in them. I had an awful feeling that I was buggering this up. And how the hell was I supposed to control it anyway? How could I hope to persuade this woman of anything as preposterous as I was hoping to?

Underneath my hairline I felt beads of perspiration exude.

How did I get myself in this ridiculous situation?

It wasn’t up to me to persuade her – I told myself that. She wanted this. She would persuade herself. But if that was the case then why had I come? Why was I pushing?

God, this was stressful. I hated not being in control.

Dahlia folded her arms with some difficulty, the action accentuating how doughy her bulbous arms were now. “I have been thinking about it; what we should do; how to... proceed with this. It is a lot to consider.”

“You have?”

She nodded, unfolding her arms again and looking down at her body. “It is... incredible what we’ve done here. Look at you. Look at me. Look at us! We’re just not who were we before. We’ve transformed entirely.”

“You’ve really become a different person.”

She nodded again. “I’ve become you. Or I thought I had. But maybe you’re right and maybe I did want more. Maybe I still do. Maybe being you back in England was what this was always about. It was. It is.”

I smiled. I couldn’t help it. “Just imagine how cool it would be to go back there entirely as each other; to move into our opposite lives; to live in one another’s houses. Just imagine being back in your home town and walking down the street but not being yourself at all anymore; being me; actually being me.” I giggled. “It wouldn’t be a game then. It would feel totally real. We wouldn’t be just a couple of silly women play-acting anymore. We could actually turn into one another for real. I think it would be incredible!”

“For you maybe.”

“Huh?” The wind went out of my sales. I had got caught up, becoming exuberant and she was just looking at me as though she were totally detached, almost unkindly. “Sorry, what? What do you mean?”

“Just that you would be the one who got to be Dahlia. You would be living in my house with my cars and all the money. What would I have? That street you’re talking about... That would be some scummy backstreet of Barton; not the lane outside Summertop.”

My smile became embarrassed and a little desperate. “I didn’t mean it like that. Don’t take it like that sweetheart. I’m not...” I got flustered. “I didn’t mean to say that— Look, I’m not here to persuade you. I’m not trying to do you out of your life or anything. I’m not trying to steal your money. Of course I’m not. All I’m interested in is this... this glorious adventure, you know? Becoming somebody else for real – taking on their life; wearing their face. Really becoming them. I just can’t think of anything more incredible that we could do and now that we’re so close to it it seems crazy to pull back. Not when we’re so near.” I turned away from her, tried to gather my thoughts, then turned back.

“If we could just go back now as we are and do it then that’s what I’d say we should do. It’s... unfortunate that we can’t really pull it off without the surgery; but think about that as... as a magic wand, you know? We can’t do real magic – nobody can – but it’s the closest thing to it. We’ve done something here already that nobody else has ever done. We’ve almost totally swapped places. All we have to do is take this last final step and we can truly become one another – just fo as long as we want to. Then we can change back. We can change back at any time.”

I shut my mouth. I was coming on too strong. I was being obvious; almost bullying her. I needed to dial it back or it was going to go wrong. I could see her indecision and there was the potential for hostility. I couldn’t risk that. If it got onto those terms then there might never be any rescuing from it.

“I’m sorry I’m blathering on,” I said. “I’m just so excited about it. I really... I really want to go through with it; to make that dream come true for you, you know?”

“To make my dream come true?” Dahlia’s voice was brittle. She made a tight twitch at the side of her mouth that gave little semblance of a smile. “Look at me,” she said. “Look at what’s become of me. Does this look like a dream?”

We both regarded the squalor of the room; the empty bottle of alcohol; her ruined figure and face and eyes.

“It looks like a nightmare,” she said, “and one that I can’t wake up from. Or haven’t been able to in so long.”

“Listen...” I said, stepping closer, reaching for her wrist. Her arm tensed and I didn’t take it. I didn’t know what to say. I was fucking this up like I fucked everything up in my life.

“It is a dream,” I said. “This was your fantasy. I know I’ve come on too strong – I know I’m shit at trying to explain what I mean – but I just keep coming back to thinking that deep down, this is what you want, if only you had the strength to see it; to follow it all the way to the end.”

She shook her head once. “Strength? What’s that? I haven’t felt strong in... months. Years maybe. All I am is weak. I sometimes think that Katherine... I think I should have listened to her.”

My cheeks hardened to hear the name. I said nothing.

“Maybe I should leave you to think more on it,” I said. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come round and started to push. You have to make up your own mind. I just wanted you to know that I will support whatever decision you make. And I think you should...”

Shut up Melissa...

“I think you should do it. Should make the change. We have to. We have to go to Thailand and see it through to the end; become one another entirely.”

There was a long moment between us, an absence of sound or movement. It made me uneasy, almost scared, because the relationship between Dahlia and I had never been normal – not since this had started. It was almost impossible to accurately predict anything about it within normal social experience. And neither one of us was quite right in the head – I acknowledged that too – especially her.

I felt that I’d fucked this up. I knew I’d fucked it up. But then there was still this pause: this potential. There were still words to be said. It could still go either way.

Dahlia inhaled; a simple sound that nonetheless rasped within her, as though the inner part of her was struggling to catch one last breath. She didn’t release it right away. She looked down at her distended arms again, stroking her round belly with one hand. She touched the ends of her brown bobbed hair and then pushed the thick frames back into place on her nose. Then she looked at me.

There were tears in my eyes; in hers too.

Still she said nothing. Still she hadn’t released that breath.

I itched to speak myself; to somehow guide what was about to happen; but all my instincts told me not to; to keep my mouth shut.

I tried to smile though – something reassuring and encouraging – and something changed in Dahlia’s face when she saw it; something almost violent; as though the effect of that crease in my lips was a stabbing blow to her somehow. I couldn’t conceive of what was going on in her mind; not really.

The breath came out of her that she’d been holding. She took in another. Then she locked my eyes in hers and said, “We can’t change any further. We just can’t.”

I couldn’t reply. I stared at her.

“We can’t go through with any more of this, ever. It has to end right now. Right. Now.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe we pushed it as far as we have.” She let out a sad chuckle then she looked at me again and her eyes were clear; determined; set in stone. “I’m sorry Melissa. I know you’ve got your hopes up about this but I’m not going to go to Thailand and that’s definite. I’m not going to have an operation on my face. That’s never going to happen. This has been a great fantasy and everything; an incredible holiday; but we can’t let it carry on any more. It would be ridiculous. And dangerous. It would be insane. It already is. We both know that.”

“But...” I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I know how much you’ve done for me and you’ll never know how much I needed it; to truly escape... but it has to be over now. It has to end.”

“But...”

“I’m not going to Thailand with you Melissa. I’m not going to swap places. We’re going to go back to England as ourselves.”