Cover Image: She is Haunted by Paige Clark.
She is Haunted: An Extract
BY PAIGE CLARK
9TH JUL, 2021
The 25 best Australian books of 2021
An old flame of my husband’s was coming to the city. We’d met before but I didn’t know much about her, except that my husband knew her in college and that she lived abroad. She had married young, but then her husband died. There was a boyfriend now, my husband said. I did not care about the boyfriend, but I did not like that her husband had died. This made me feel like I would have to have a difficult conversation with this woman, which I did not want to have.
My husband told me she was going to stay with us. We live in a one-bedroom condominium. The design is open plan. I told my husband it was fine by me as long as his friend didn’t mind sleeping in the kitchen. He said she wasn’t the type to mind. I said don’t imply that I am the type that would. Then, to change the subject, he asked if I would take a few days off work so that we could all spend time together—me, him and the old flame. I said I would see if I could get the time off. I booked a meeting with my boss for the day after her flight landed.
He asked if I would take a few days off work so that we could all spend time together—me, him and the old flame.
The week before she arrived, my husband and I fought, but not about her. My husband was tidying up the apartment. I noticed he’d stacked up all of our friends’ baby photos and wedding invitations that we kept on the fridge and tucked them away in a box. The old flame wasn’t the kind of woman who put magnets on her fridge, apparently. I said put my photos back. He put a few of the photos back, but he kept the wedding invitations hidden.
The woman was a writer and she did not make a lot of money. Sometimes she worked at a café as a dishwasher to make ends meet. My husband said that while she stayed with us, we should try to pay for everything. She was flying in from overseas for the visit, after all. The flight was expensive, I admitted. Many of the airlines had closed down. But she was mostly coming to see her family, I reminded my husband. Her family lived in other parts of the country. The air went out of him a bit and he didn’t mention the money after that.
The afternoon the woman was meant to arrive came. I should mention it was January. I don’t think anyone should visit at that time of year. My husband lit all of the candles we kept in the apartment. I confess the place looked nice. The woman called my husband and said she was downstairs. He said he would be right there to help her with her bags. He asked me if I’d like to come down to greet her too and I said no. We live on the fourth floor.
The woman let my husband carry all of her bags up the stairs. He made a number of trips. The old flame of my husband had plumped up since I’d last seen her. I guessed men still liked her anyway. She is exotic, but that didn’t excite me because I’m exotic too. We’re both Chinese. I didn’t worry that my husband had a type, though. He had dated lots of women.
The woman did not take her shoes off when she came in and tracked wet footprints all through our living room to where I was standing. I stared at her big feet. Then she gave me a hug hello. I could tell that she didn’t really want to hug me the same way I didn’t really want to hug her.
‘Your apartment’s so modern,’ she said. ‘The candles are a nice touch.’
From that comment, I knew that she disapproved of our condominium. My husband was pleased because he thought he’d impressed her. My husband did not want to sleep with the woman, but he was fond of her and that bothered me just as much. As for her, I could tell that she did not entertain those kinds of thoughts about my husband anymore.
She is exotic, but that didn’t excite me because I’m exotic too. We’re both Chinese. I didn’t worry that my husband had a type, though.
My husband went to the pantry and pulled out a bottle of pinot noir. The woman liked to drink and had expensive taste in wine. I had good taste in wine too, but I did not drink much, except for the occasional glass with dinner. When she and my husband were in college together, they went on binges. In those days, my husband told me, the old flame used to black out from drinking. She forgot entire conversations. This did not bother my husband like it should have. He said it as a fact. I wondered what the conversations were about. My husband obviously thought they were worth remembering.
The bottle my husband chose was a Christmas present to both of us from his parents. He poured two glasses, one for himself and one for the woman.
‘Would you like me to make you a coffee?’ he asked me.
‘No,’ I said. ‘Thanks.’
I went to the cupboard, got down another wine glass and poured myself one too.
The woman was busy on her phone and didn’t notice us fussing about the drinks. My husband handed her a glass.
‘Oh, cheers,’ she said. She raised it slightly to us both and then took a big gulp of wine. She didn’t look up from her phone.
‘Who are you talking to?’ my husband asked. He did not like her being distracted when they hadn’t seen each other in so long.
‘My boyfriend, sorry,’ she said. ‘He just woke up. It’s morning in Melbourne.’ That’s where the woman lived.
Then she was paying attention again. I knew this because she started making a speech about the wine. She thought it tasted like all sorts of things—olive brine, anise, cherry blossom. I did not know the difference between cherry and cherry blossom. I thought it tasted like wine.
This is an extract from the short story collection She Is Haunted by Paige Clark (Allen & Unwin).
Paige Clark
Paige Clark is a Chinese/American/Australian writer, born and raised in Los Angeles. She studied Mass Communication Theory at Boston University before moving to Melbourne to complete her Masters in Creative Writing, Editing and Publishing. She is currently a graduate researcher at the University of Melbourne exploring the relationship between race, craft and the teaching of creative writing. In 2019, she was runner-up for the Peter Carey Short Story Award and shortlisted for the David Harold Tribe Fiction Award. Her fiction has appeared in Meanjin, New World Writing and Meniscus.
KILL YOUR DARLINGS
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