Page 61 of The New Couple in 5B

She puts a heavily ringed hand to her throat, glances around the apartment as if looking for something, then gazes out the east-facing window.

“Poor Dana,” says Ella. “She was always so troubled.”

It sounds flat, though. Somehow distant. We return to the living room.

“Did you know her?” I venture, thinking about the pendant.

“We met a couple of times over the years, on her rare visits to Ivan. It wasn’t a good relationship. Mainly his fault, I think. He wasn’tthere, you know. And she suffered for it, hated him for it. But sometimes there’s no chemistry. Don’t you think that’s true? Even between parent and child.”

I motion for her to take a seat and she does on the far end of the sectional. I turn on the lights, the apartment seeming dim and cold.

She’s right, of course, about chemistry between parent and child. I immediately think of my father and how we were at odds since before I could remember. My relationship with him was characterized by raised voices and slamming doors, that raging, tearful feeling of being misunderstood, railing against his desires and expectations.

“Are you close to Lilian?” I ask. I am still thinking about her wolfish gaze at the theater, the way she looked at Chad at the party.

Ella gives a little shrug, offers a thin smile. “As close as she wants us to be, I suppose. She was always a free spirit, yearning to break away and be her own person. Separate from us.”

She pushes a strand of white hair away from her face. The light coming in from the windows washes her out, makes her look older, sadder. She always seems so together, so effortlessly glamourous. Today she looks frail.

“We battled when she was a teenager. Chemistry, again. She has an easier relationship with her father.”

“Did she grow up here? At the Windermere?”

“Yes.” She gives a slow nod, looks around the apartment. “It seems we’ve been here forever.”

There’s something wistful about the way she says it.

“I thought I saw her at Chad’s opening night, before I met her at your place.”

Ella raises her eyebrows. “Oh? We told her about Chad’s play. But she didn’t mention attending. Maybe she wanted to scout him for her husband. That could be a good thing, right?”

“It could be. I guess we’ll see.”

“I never know what Lilian’s up to. She has her own mind, always has.”

She’s frowning now. And I can see how much they look alike, those same high cheekbones and deep-set eyes. They each possess a chilly, edgy beauty.

“Can I ask your advice?”

She seems pleased, leans forward. “Of course.”

I tell her about Abi and the incident with the box. She listens with a concerned frown, leaning toward me.

“But it was back here when you came home?”

“It was.”

“Then were you mistaken?”

“I don’t see how I could have been. I mean, I didn’timaginecarrying the box downstairs.”

She nods, squinting thoughtfully.

“Does Abi have a key to this apartment?” I ask.

She draws up a little, surprised. Then, “Maybe Ivan gave him one for emergencies. Some of the residents do that. We do. Abi has a key to our place. We trust him completely. Completely.”

But her words again ring hollow, and her voice sounds strained.