Simone sat looking out of the window of the Montréal apartment, with the winter light falling softly across the room. Outside, snow covered the city, and the December cold caused her to shiver slightly as she pressed against the windowpane. Inside, however, there was warmth, the clutter of an ordinary life, records and magazines lying nearby, and all the little details that had stopped appearing quite so strange to her.
Even Simone herself felt as if she was beginning to look as though she belonged. Her dark brown hair no longer carried the carefully arranged shape she had worn backstage in Paris. It fell around her face in fuller curls now, with more volume. Claire had taken her to a local salon during the week as a present for her new job.
“Time to get you looking like someone from this decade and not the 1930s,” Claire had said at the time.
Just a few years out, Simone thought to herself, but she hadn’t said anything to Claire. When they had left, Simone had walked out looking like a completely different woman. The change had seemed enormous when Simone first saw herself. Now she barely thought about it.
Then came the clothes shopping, as Simone’s clothes had gone missing, or at least that was what she had told Claire.
I can’t tell her that I have somehow travelled through time and my own clothes are back in Paris in 1956, she thought to herself.
The teal blouse she had chosen to wear that afternoon disappeared beneath a dark patterned cardigan, while a pair of high-waisted, stone-washed jeans replaced the skirts and dresses she had always worn. She was still Simone Delacroix. The same face looked back at her from the mirror as the one she had seen before all of this had started.
She remembered the conversation she had had with Claire that Monday.
“There’s an opening at the library. One of the girls has gone on maternity leave, and we don’t have anyone to replace her yet,” Claire had said, subtly hinting towards Simone.
“What would I need to do?” Simone asked.
“Well, you’d be an assistant librarian like me, so it would mostly be sitting around, stamping books out and stamping them when they’re returned. If I can do that, anyone can,” Claire told her, trying to make her laugh.
The interview, as much as there was one, took place on Tuesday. The following day, Simone was told she had the job, which she had more or less been told during the interview, but it still needed to look official. Even if she was only going to have the job for a few months while the woman she was covering for had her baby.
She thought back to her old life, where some of the women she had danced with continued dancing until only a few days before they had their babies. Madeleine did her best to make sure they had money and could take some time off, but they needed the money.
Strange. That was the first time she had thought about Madeleine’s good side in weeks. That was the side of her she wanted to remember, not the side she had last seen under the control of “Jon”, if that was even his name.
No. Don’t think about him.
It was her turn to make their meal that Saturday evening. Claire was at work, but she would be home soon.
Home.
Was that what this place had become to her?
Maybe it was. It was certainly better than what she had left behind, even if Claire still laughed at the way she spoke.
“I’m going to have to teach you how to speak properly,” Claire had said the night before.
“Okay, I will try,” Simone had replied.
She knew Claire didn’t mean anything bad by it. She just didn’t want people making fun of her roommate.
