Authors: Michelle Slee
Before she could speak he continued, “The parallel universe idea isn’t new. In the fifties Everett said that every time a new possibility is discovered the universe splits off. Each possibility creates a new universe. So you see there are an infinite number of universes. Each one created by a possible outcome of a decision made. Imagine all the possible outcomes in just one person’s life. Every decision taken has at least one alternative option spinning off to create another universe. Infinite lives and infinite universes. But usually – usually - we observe just the one, just the one outcome and just the one universe. My theory is that as the new universe is created so a part of our consciousness breaks off
to live in that other universe. The new life is unobserved by the original consciousness. But this is not happening in your case. Not anymore. And this is the same thing that I’ve talked about at the quantum level - unobserved particles in a multitude of states, only fixed
when observed. So this universe is only one of an infinite number of possible universes and only real and fixed to us because we are conscious of it. But there are others. And there seems to be one created by a decision you made many years ago that now has a pull on both you and Matt and the act of observing this universe isn’t strong enough to keep the other universe from cutting in. And that’s what I don’t understand yet.”
He saw her face fall. “I said yet,” he said, smiling reassuringly, “I will understand it.”
Something he had said was still troubling her.
Then she remembered. “You said a decision I made. What decision was that?”
“Only you know that Christine. But don’t worry about it for now,” he said. “You’ve taken in a lot today. You must be exhausted.”
She realised he was right. It had all been so much to take in. Electrons, particles, parallel universes. How could it all be true? And yet it was true. And she didn't need science to tell her that. She had her truth. The one she was experiencing every time she shifted from one reality to the other. The same one that she knew in her own heart.
She must have been lost in her thoughts for some time. Then another thought suddenly occurred to her.
“The other me - in the other world -
how does it work when I’m not there? Does she realise something’s happening.”
“I don’t know. I don’t think it works like that. I think right now the other you is just living her life as normal. But when you're there then it's this consciousness - this you - that’s there. And she’s… well I just don’t know. There is something else too….”
“What?”
“There's a chance that....” He hesitated.
“What? A chance that what?”
He seemed reluctant to continue. “Right now when you shift to the other world it's all new and strange. You’re disoriented and confused. But I suspect that after some time you'll take less time to settle into that world and possibly....”
Again he hesitated.
“Possibly what?”
“You might forget this life, until you shift back at least. Whatever reality you're in might well come to dominate while you're there. I'm not sure what that will mean.”
Forget this life. The thought was unimaginable. She could never forget Damien. She was certain of that. But before she could dwell on that another thought struck her.
“Are other things different in that world. I mean… my mother, my father…what about them?”
“I’m not certain. Obviously some things happen differently there. That could mean your parents are different too.”
“I have a daughter there.”
“I know,” he said, “And how does that make you feel?”
She stopped and thought. How did it make her feel? The obvious words came to mind – confused, bewildered, uncertain. But was that it - really? Underlying it all was another emotion, one she was starting to feel more and more often when she thought about that other life.
“I feel sad,” she said eventually. “Sad that I don’t have a daughter in this life, and sad that I’m missing out on her life in the other world. It doesn’t seem fair either way.”
Once she had said that she sat back, almost surprised. She hadn’t
known that’s what she felt. Dr Priestley was nodding. “I understand,” he said, “Or rather I think I do. I have two children,” he nodded to the photo on his desk, “If I couldn’t see them every day I don’t know what I’d do.”
“But I don’t understand these feelings either,” she said. “I don’t know her, I haven’t been her mother, why should I miss her now.” (And him, she thought, I miss him too.)
“Just give it time Christine,” he said, “Things will become clearer. And I’m going to be working on this. I’m trying to understand it more so that I can help you and Matt.” He looked at his watch. “I’m sorry to be rude but I have a class to teach.”
“That’s fine, thank you Dr Priestley,” she said, getting up to leave.
“Jim, please,” he said, shaking her hand. “I’ll be in touch, but ring me if you need to talk to me and if anything more happens.”
“And will it happen again?” she asked on her way to the door, not sure what she wanted the answer to be.
“I’m almost certain it will Christine,” he said, looking at her. “I don’t know why this other universe can pull you and Matt into its orbit but its energy is strong. It doesn’t seem to want to let you
go.”
She waved the professor goodbye and walked away. And as she walked she wondered whether he’d got that bit wrong. Maybe it wasn’t the other universe that didn’t want to let them go. Maybe they couldn't let it go. And what was she going to do about that?
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
During the bus ride into work all she could think about was what the professor had said, everything he had told her. Why had that other universe made it’s presence known in her life? What had been the decision she had made that had brought it into existence in the first place? And even more important for her now than she would ever dare admit – when would she visit it again?
That afternoon she toyed with the idea of ringing Matt. When she had gone back to her desk it had been filled with post-it notes to ring various people. His name appeared several times.
But no, she thought. She should concentrate on her work. Even now realising there were multiple universes in existence she still lived in this one and this was the one in which she had to operate. She still had jobs to get done.
But should she ring Damien she asked herself? Should she tell him that they should spend more time together? That she knew that would help them both.
But just as she was about to dial the phone she felt the now familiar pain. The white light shone, the colours danced, and somehow somehow she kept the scream from escaping. Automatically she closed her eyes. She briefly wondered what she’d see when she opened them.
It was her old house – the house she'd grown up in. She was alone. She took a couple of breaths to steady herself. While mentally at least she was now almost getting used to the transition her body physically needed time to recover, to readjust to the world around her.
After a moment she felt steady enough to look around.The house wasn’t exactly the same as in her childhood – some things had changed and been modernised. The walls were still the cream her mother had painted them years ago, but the TV was a modern flatscreen rather than the boxy set they’d had for years. The same chocolate brown drapes were hung over the front and back windows but the carpet was different, a lighter brown than she remembered. She noticed photographs on the mantelpiece and walked towards them to take a closer look. The first one she noticed was a wedding photograph. It was immediately familiar - an informal shot of Matt hugging her tightly and kissing her on the cheek, her veil blowing behind her in the light breeze. She realised she could remember the moment that photograph was taken. The next photo along was one of her brother and his wife Pat. They looked exactly the same as they did in Christine’s normal world except that the house behind them was not the same house. They lived in a small terrace but this looked to be a medium sized new build, a semi-detached. She carried on examining the photos – but the next one brought her up short. It was another wedding photograph but this time her mother appeared to be the bride. She was holding a bouquet and beaming brightly at the camera. The man beside her was unfamiliar to Christine. She felt faint. She sat down on the sofa (a leather sofa- again different from the sofa her parents had had when they lived in this house). She couldn’t believe it. Her parents weren’t together in this universe. How could that be?
She heard a key in the front door and looked up to see who it was. Part of her was terrified it was the unfamiliar man. What would she say to him? He would know her of course but she wouldn't know him. But already some memories of him were starting to play at the edges of her mind. After all in this universe she did know him. But she pushed them away. She didn’t want them. She was scared they'd make her forget her father.
But it wasn’t the unknown man. It was her mother. She bustled in through the door and smiled when she saw Christine. “Good you’re here already. I thought I was going to have to ring you and remind you that you said you’d come over today.”
“No I remembered,” Christine said, knowing that she was meant to help her mother sort out her wardrobe. The memories were coming back quicker now. She realised that they were getting stronger with each shift.
She went to help her mother with the shopping. As they unpacked she took quick glances at her to see if she looked different in this universe. And she did. For a moment Christine couldn’t put her finger on it but then realised it was a lack of tension in the face. It made her look younger. Her eyes were the same colour but seemed brighter. Her lips the same shape but seemed to smile more readily. Her shoulders and body looked less stiff and tense. Christine thought back to her own mother (but this is your own mother, a small voice reminded her). She had thought her mother looked happy these days – certainly different from when things were bad with her father, but Christine could now see that a certain strain had never left her in the other world. That strain had gone from her here. What about her father though? She had to hear from her mother what had happened there. That
seemed to be the one memory that was refusing to return.
“Shall we have a coffee?” she asked her mother when the shopping was unpacked.
“How about something stronger?” asked her mother, giving a little giggle and pulling out a bottle of wine from a bag that Christine had missed.
Some things don’t change, thought Christine ruefully.
Both she and her mother liked their wine.
“Great,” she said, having long given up fighting her weakness in this area. She went to the cupboard to get the glasses as her mother set about opening the wine.
As they were sitting down in the living room Christine wondered how to begin. She should know all this after all. Her mother would wonder why she was revisiting the past. Then she had an idea.
“Teresa was asking about Dad the other day,” she said, “I didn’t know what to say.”
Her mother visibly stiffened. “I hope you told her we’re better off without him. She loves Stephen. He’s a better grandfather to her than that man would ever have been.” She looked upset.
“I know, I know,” said Christine, “Don’t upset yourself. She was just asking about him. You know what children are like.”
Her mother sighed. “Yes, I know, sorry Chris. And I know she has every right to talk about her grandfather. It’s just…well … leaving him was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. I was so scared. Scared to be alone bringing you kids up. Do you remember what it was like?”
And suddenly Christine did remember. Her mother had been in a terrible state. She had made the decision to leave him for good when they were already separated. He had turned up one evening full of good news about his new job driving buses. Her mother had been pleased for him, but had then taken him into the bedroom to speak to him alone. Christine had gone to bed and the next day when she got up her mother was sitting alone in the living room. She told Christine it was over for good. She just didn't love him anymore. It got nasty after that – her father turning up drunk again and again. There were threats of violence. Soon an injunction was in place and her father was told he could not come to the house anymore. Christine and her brother sat crying on the sofa the night the police were called to turn her father away. They had been told they couldn’t go and talk to him but Christine had caught a glimpse of him in the doorway. He had looked like he was crying too.
“It wasn’t easy at all,” mused her mother, lost in reverie. “Remember I had to get a second job.”
Yes Christine remembered that too. Her mother had worked long hours in the day in her office job and then nights in the local pub. Christine had missed her so much and also felt overwhelmed by the household responsibilities now on her own shoulders.
Her father had been forced to pay maintenance but it was a “pittance” according to her mother. He had kept his true earnings a secret said her uncle. He was an out and out bastard said her gran. On and on it went. A relentless tirade against her father and everything he stood for.
It had pushed her closer to him for awhile, she remembered that now. And with that had come the guilt. How could she love a man who in the worst of his drunken states, just before the injunction, had threatened to beat her mother to within an inch of her life?
But she did love him. She couldn't help it. And for awhile that love stood in sharp contrast to the growing resentment she was starting to feel against her mother.
Because her mother seemed to be enjoying the single life too much in Christine’s opinion. Although she was working two jobs the pub job hardly seemed like work when she talked about it – it seemed more like socialising with new friends. She was losing weight, buying clothes, wearing make up.