Multiversum by Leonardo Patrignani Page A

wrong and —’
    â€˜Jennifer Graver died at age six,’ said the woman. Her words reverberated in Alex’s head. So Jenny was dead? How could Jenny be dead?
    Mary caught the bewildered look in his expression and interpreted it as a confirmation of her suspicions.
    â€˜I was her nanny from day she born. Gravers picked me in first place because I speak Italian.’
    Her eyes reddened. She pulled a handkerchief out of her blouse pocket and dabbed at a tear that was rolling down her cheek.
    â€˜The family stayed on for year after that,’ she went on in a voice racked with emotion, ‘but in end they gave house to me and moved away to Brisbane. Jenny was smart girl. Nice, smart girl. Always she smiled. Then one day she died before my eyes. Just a second before, she was helping me to bake biscuits, one second later she flat on ground, eyes wide open. Now, you tell me how you have this address, who you are, and stop saying that when you were eight you went to school with her. She never lived to be eight years old.’
    Alex listened, paralysed by the woman’s words.
    Jenny was dead. Then Jenny existed — or perhaps he should say she had once existed. Then who had he talked to? That voice couldn’t have belonged to a ghost. For the hundredth time since he’d set out on that journey, Alex wondered if he’d lost his mind.
    Mary picked up the cup of tea and sipped at it, slowly regaining her composure. He sat in silence, lowered his head, and rested it on the palms of his open hands.
    â€˜Now, you must tell me everything. The truth, this time.’
    â€˜I …’
    â€˜How the devil you find my house?’
    â€˜Thanks to Jenny,’ Alex replied. The words poured out of his mouth and there seemed to be nothing he could do about it. If Jenny was dead, nothing made sense anymore and the whole thing had become absurd. ‘I’ve never actually seen her. I was never a friend of hers. I’ve lived my whole life in Milan: this is the first time I’ve ever been in Australia, and I didn’t come here on holiday with my parents. I’m here all alone. I took three flights, I transferred in Paris and Kuala Lumpur, I landed in Melbourne, and came to Altona Pier. I did all this to meet Jenny. We’d arranged a meeting …’
    â€˜Nothing you’re saying makes any sense!’ the woman exclaimed. Now she really was angry.
    â€˜I know.’
    â€˜Then try to tell me something that makes some sense! Ever since I opened my front door you’ve been making fun of me! I don’t accept games and playing when we’re talking about my little girl. She was dearest thing to my heart in whole world. The Gravers were my family, I was a member of that family. Everything ended when Jenny died. They went away and I’ve lived alone ever since, till today. Can you tell me how it’s possible that you come here now to tell me that you were supposed to meet Jenny at the pier, in 2014, if she went away in 2004?’
    Alex took a deep breath and mustered his courage. He felt like an animal trapped in a cage that was too small even to breathe. His eyes found a window that looked onto the street, and he saw a bicycle shoot past on the asphalt. Then, with renewed confidence, he looked into the woman’s eyes.
    â€˜I talk to her,’ he confessed.
    Mary Thompson set down the teacup she’d held in her hand until that instant. ‘You talk … with Jenny?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜What are you, a medium of some sort? A seer?’ Mary raised her voice.
    â€˜I don’t have the slightest idea!’ Alex leaped to his feet. ‘I don’t know what I am or why all this is happening to me. I’m upset, I’m confused, I don’t have any answers. Answers are what I’m looking for. That’s why I rang your doorbell in the first place.’
    Mary looked at him in amazement while Alex stared at the pictures on the