Symmetry?

Symmetry, the word appeared to her courtesy of a glance at the pretty woman sitting directly opposite her in the sauna. Eyes firmly closed again, she surveyed the captured image of soft, pale flesh and the ‘ample bosom’, swaddled in the cheap towel. The next word, tagging along as an unwelcome companion, was guilt. She had watched her come in and winced now at her patronising analysis of how attractive she could be, if only she could lose a few pounds, well, quite a few. Who even uses the phrase ‘ample bosom’ these days? ‘Great tits’ were what she was really thinking as she reluctantly acknowledged the final linguistic intruder, envy.

She took a curious pride in her own symmetry, frequently checking herself in the mirror, pulling tight any tiny offence of redundant flesh she found. Was it Jane Fonda who said, at some point you had to sacrifice your arse for your face. She had certainly sacrificed her breasts on the altar of …, of what? She opened her eyes to look at the woman opposite her again and caught her staring straight back. She closed her eyes, instantly, and the corners of her mouth pulled with an embarrassed twitch. She waited, breathing a little too heavily even for the intense heat, and felt the sweat run aimlessly down her tanned, bony chest, searching in vain for a contour to follow.

The sauna door opened, and she waited a moment before opening her eyes again. Oh no! The woman was still there and looking directly at her. They were alone in the suddenly claustrophobic space. She forced a smile and her eyebrows rose in an unintended greeting, “Hi.” What on earth was she doing talking to a stranger in a sauna?

The stranger smiled a genuine smile, “You’re very pretty.”

Oh no, please. The woman must be gay, coming on to her; she needed to shut this down quickly.

“I’m married,” she heard herself say and struggled not to react to this pitifully gauche reflex.

“Oh no, I didn’t mean like that. I mean, you are beautiful. I’m married, too, I just don’t do this sort of thing, you know, or see people like you much. Someone bought me a day here as a present. I’ve not done it before, you know, coming to a sauna. I’m Ali, by the way.”

Her mouth had slowly compressed as the woman’s words cascaded over her. Ali. She was determined not to engage, but an unruly corner of her mind resisted and allowed the social reflex. “You’re just as beautiful as I am,” she heard herself say, and was about to berate herself for this outrageous lie, when she realised it was not. “I’m Tania, it’s nice to meet you, Ali.”

Ali started giggling and covered her mouth. Tania’s brow crease with that line no amount of expensive cream seemed to remove.

“I mean, alabaster and tanned, Ali and Tania,” Ali said.

Tania laughed, clever. Perhaps there was more than met the eye to this overweight woman in the cheap towel.

Ali slid down off the bench, “Too much for me. I’m melting. See you later.”

In the comfortable isolation that settled behind the closing door, Tania re-examined their brief interaction. What had happened to her recently? She had become so judgmental. Ali was about her age and probably lived nearby, but their orbits would never cross. Tania visualised the small terrace or council house where she imagined Ali lived, and compared it to the large circular driveway in front of their six-bedroom Georgian villa. Until recently, their contrasting fortunes would have produced a feeling of superiority; now she experienced a grating discomfort at her reaction. Her emotional foundations were shifting; the double-edged sword of meditation was slicing her mind in unexpected ways.

The door opened, and a cooled, dripping Ali returned to settle against the hot wall, touching and retouching her shoulders against the wood until it cooled enough for her to bear it and relax. A long, deep sigh escaped her.

Tania felt the sound vibrate in her, “Oh yes, I recognise that.”

They absorbed the heavy velvet heat, the ticking of the hot stones marking slow time.

“I didn’t mean anything, saying you were beautiful,” Alison said.

Tania opened her eyes and appraised Alison. “It was a nice thing to say, I don’t know why I said I was married, it was a stupid response.”

Alison shrugged, “You never know these days, though, do you, I mean nobody cares if you’re gay now or bi or whatever. It’s nice; people can just be who they are.”

Tania heard the words and wondered how one did that. She had no idea who she was any more or what she wanted. “Do you have children?” she asked, immediately regretting the question, knowing where it might lead.

“A daughter, twelve.. You?”

“A son, thirteen.”

“Just the one?” Alison asked

“It seemed like the responsible thing to do in an overpopulated world,” Tania said, staring into the distance, remembering James’ absolute refusal to contemplate another child. The familiar, caustic anger welled, as she had known, maybe hoped, it would. She closed her eyes and focused on her breath.

“I wanted more, but Jimmy wouldn’t budge. I guess he was right, we can barely afford to look after Kelly.” Alison said.

Tania felt the muscles in her jaw dance, and tried to relax. Alison must have noticed.

“Was that your choice?” she asked, carefully.

Tania opened her eyes wide and focused on her momentarily, and then through her, unable to breach the wall of emotion with words.

“Sorry, none of my business.” Alison looked away.

Tania stepped down, her pulse ramped by the combined heat stress and barely manageable anger. She lingered, her hand on the door, staring through the glass. She could only say this to a complete stranger? “It was his choice, everything is his choice.”

***

One visit and now they had her name and address. She had almost thrown the letter away, assuming it was marketing of the worst kind; something she desperately wanted and could not possibly afford. The letter informed her she had won an annual membership to the new wellness centre, where she could use any of the facilities for twelve months free of charge. The shock these words delivered was unsettling. She was lightheaded at the prospect of spending more time in that beautiful place. She could not remember entering the prize draw it referred to, and re-read the letter and the terms three times, searching for the catch.

Leaning against the front door in the tiny space they called a hall, she stared at her daughter's school shoes, lying at the bottom of the stairs. The soles were almost worn through, and she wondered if she could trade the membership for cash to buy a new pair. But that was not how the world worked. ‘No cash value’, the terms stated, unambiguously. She could relax in the sauna and steam rooms or float in the ornate swimming pool with all those tanned, skinny, rich women, but her daughter would have to make her shoes last until the end of term.

***

It was her third visit in two weeks, and Tania, the skinny tanned woman she had met on her first visit, was in the sauna again. Alison sat beside her this time.

“Hello, I’m back.”

“So I see.” Tania edged away fractionally but smiled at her before relaxing back against the sauna wall.

“I won a year’s membership. Can you believe it? I never win anything.”

“That’s nice,” Tania said without opening her eyes as the two women sitting opposite raised their eyebrows and smiled. Moments later, they left, and as the door closed, Tania said, “About last time, what I said, it probably sounded weird. James doesn’t decide everything; I don’t know why I said that.”

Alison nodded and wondered why this stranger had told her that in the first place and was now lying about its importance. The elemental truth of the lie was seeping from her as obviously as the sweat that coated her golden skin.

Spontaneously, Alison asked. “Are you happy, you know, with your life, generally?”

“Of course.” The words were returned automatically to evidence the absurdity of the premise. She was wealthy, had whatever she liked, how could she be anything but?

“It’s just you don’t seem that happy to me.”

“You don’t know anything about my life.” The perceived judgment triggered indignation.

Alison was undaunted; this was a mystery. “Well, I bet you’re rich, or well off, but you never smile.”

“That’s not true, I do smile.” Tania countered.

“I mean a happy smile, not just saying hello.”

“You don’t seem happy to me, either.” Tania retaliated.

“You try being happy when you can’t even buy new school shoes for your daughter.” Alison’s words contained no bitterness, no anger; it was a simple statement of practical fact. Her feeble acceptance surprised her.

Tania blushed. “Oh, I’m sorry, I ….”

“Sorry for what?” Alison asked, “It’s not your fault.”

“No, I mean … I mean that’s not fair, is it?”

“Fair?” Ali stared at her, shook her head, and closed her eyes. What did that even mean?

***

Off to the football for Jimmy, Kelly at a school friend’s on a sleepover, Saturday afternoon had become Alison's favourite time of the week. She hoped, without analysing why, that Tania would be there. They barely knew one another, but each meeting revealed something interesting about her life, and Alison was curious. The discovery that neither of them was fundamentally happy had been a revelation. She had no real idea of Tania’s lifestyle, but she was certainly not short of money, and lifting that blight from Alison’s life felt like a guarantee of at least a little happiness.

***

The sauna was almost full, and barely inside the doorway, Alison wavered, daunted by the territorial politics of squeezing herself into the phalanx of intimidating women. They all appeared the same to her, skinny, tanned with expensive hair, their bony frames wrapped in towels bearing large designer labels. But this was her time; she was not going to be denied.

“Sorry.” She moved in front of the largest space between the bodies and smiled at the women flanking her target real estate. They manoeuvred their thin lips into facsimiles of smiles and inched away, rippling discomfort along the line in a wave of reluctant forbearance. Did she imagine them cringing away from her towel's thin, coarse material? She closed her eyes and banished them, remaining deep within herself until she heard movement and the door opened. Four women left, and everyone shifted to the vacant spaces. As Alison was settling, the door opened, and Tania stepped in, quickly closing it behind her; exemplary sauna etiquette. She looked around the space and gave Alison a brief smile.

“More water?” She asked the small assembly. Several muttered their assent, and she ladled water from the bucket to hiss into hot vapour that rippled across the ceiling, and down to coat their heads and shoulders, bringing forth breathy sighs.

“Room for a small one.” It was a statement, and Alison felt a double helix of jealousy and admiration twist through her at Tania’s easy display of self-confidence. She squeezed beside Alison, her cool shoulder glancing Alison’s hot, slick skin. As she twisted down, Alison watched her eyes carefully survey her cleavage and then smile at her. “Hi Ali. How are you?”

“Hot.”

Tania rested her hand, gently, on Alison’s thigh for a moment as she settled, and Alison welcomed the concentrated heat of the thin, coarse material pressed against her flesh.

“I have something for you, so find me in the changing room afterwards,” Tania said, closing her eyes and relaxing her shoulders. She exaggerated her sigh, “Aaaagh, as you would say, Ali.”

At no point were they alone, and they held their silence throughout the session. If latent conversation had a valence, sparks would have danced between them. They showered and dressed in their changing cubicles, and as Alison walked past the café towards reception, she heard, “Ali.”

Tania was at a table, looking poised and glamorous in a way that Alison doubted she ever had, or would.

“Have you got a few minutes? Do you want a coffee or something?”

Alison’s instant reaction was to baulk at the cost of the expensive coffee, and the shame she felt in the moment must have surfaced.

“My treat,” Tania said, standing. “Please stay, I want to talk.”

It was not quite pleading, but conveyed a need Alison had not anticipated.

“Oh, OK. What are you having?”

“Oat latte?”

Alison had seen these listed but had never had one. How did oats make a coffee? “Sure, yeah, thanks.”

She waited at the table, watching Tania’s tanned, slim legs in her expensive casual shoes and perfect hair. How was it possible for her not to be happy?

Tania placed the cups on the table and sat. “First, can I give you this? I hope you won’t find it patronising, because I know it, sort of, is, or could be, but I would ‘really’ like you to have it.”

Alison had never seen Tania exhibit nerves; they infected her instantly, and a hard lump rose in her chest. She had no idea what would appear from Tania’s bag.

It was encased in tissue paper, but she could see it was a towel, the vivid colours visible through the gossamer wrapping. She wanted it so badly, but could not move her hands from her lap. Charity. The word stamped around her mind, trampling her desire to reach for the gift.

“Please take it.” Tania was pushing it gently across the table at her.

Alison watched her hands rise to pull the paper away and expose the bright, tropical colours. When she placed her palms on the soft material, it blurred behind tears.

“Oh, Ali, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Alison shook her head and blinked the tears back, already imagining the material against her skin, seeing herself lying wrapped in colour on her bed at home.

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” She had no idea where this emotion had come from. Could it be as simple as an act of kindness? For Tania, the cost was probably irrelevant, for Alison, unimaginable.

Alison placed the heavy towel on her lap, gently caressing the material with one hand, and reached for her oat latte. She brought it to her lips and paused. I smelled just like coffee. Her suspicious sip produced an unexpectedly beautiful sensation; it was probably the most delicious coffee she had ever tasted. “Oh, it’s so nice.”

Tania smiled and sipped hers, leaning slightly forward, and Alison knew she needed something from her, without having the slightest idea what that might be.

“So, I’ve thought a lot about what you said last time, about not being happy, and I know it’s not the same, in fact, it’s the opposite, but I lied. I’m not happy, I just didn’t want to acknowledge how unhappy I am.”

“What do you mean, the opposite?” Alison asked.

“You have no money and are unhappy, how could you not be? I have too much and am unhappy too, how can that be?”

They say money can’t buy happiness, but Alison was sure she would be happier if they had a bit more. Could having too much be a real problem? Even saying that was offensive. Tania could easily give some away until she had ‘the right amount’.

Alison smoothed the soft material and fought the impulse of her visceral response. “You can’t always have been unhappy,” she said.

Tania stared into space for a while before looking back. “We used to be happy when we were first married and both working. I remember being happy.” She nodded and smiled at her memories.

“So what happened? Why don’t you work now?”

“It was pointless, James makes a fortune at the bank.” She stared into space again before continuing, “It was great to start with not having to commute every morning. Then, when Archie came along, it was lovely too, having the time to be with him in those first years. But now ….”

Alison could tell she was not finished and sipped her coffee.

“But now Archie is away at school, like his father was, and James works, and I buy things and sit around in saunas.” She scanned Alison, searching for a response. “Do you work?”

Alison laughed, mirthlessly “God yes, I do admin for the builder’s merchant, the one by the station?”

“Oh yes.”

Alison knew it was not a place Tania would ever have visited. “Jimmy is a chippie; works on building sites, that’s where I met him. So we both work, but with the cost of things now—energy bills, food, everything, really—we can barely manage.”

“I’m going to ask him for a divorce.”

Alison stared at her and realised her mouth was open. “What, I mean … I didn’t …, not because of what I said?”

Tania laughed. “Have you ever tried meditation?”

“What?” Alison had no idea what Tania was talking about; she seemed derailed, but at the same time, a subtle calm had settled on her.

“Meditation, mindfulness.”

“No, I don’t have time for any of that woo, woo stuff.”

Tania smiled broadly, “You should, Ali, but it’s a dangerous thing, starting to understand your mind and what matters. It’s made me see things more clearly. I wouldn’t have seen you before, seen how beautiful you are and how hard things are for you and so many other people, while I just shop. It’s pathetic. Thank you for allowing me to see that we’re the same. Perhaps we could be friends?”

She reached her hand across the table, and Alison hesitated, but took it to complete their most unlikely symmetry.