‘Why did they do it?’
‘So they could fit me into their own picture of the world. So that they could take me under control. I wanted to run up the cliffs and hide in the grass, but their opinions were lodged in my ears. And from then on, as I moved from being a girl to a young woman, I became two people. I was the one outside myself, looking on, and I was also the other, deeper self, mute within my body. It was impossible to keep them together as one person. I was beautiful, Perseus. But was I beautiful? What is beautiful? Was I born to break boys’ hearts? I didn’t want to break anything.’
‘And did you – break boys’ hearts?’ asked Perseus, something akin to jealousy in his voice.
‘No,’ I said, a touch impatiently, for the boys’ hearts weren’t the point of this story; my own heart was. ‘But I stopped going to the village. I avoided Alekto, all of them. I stopped walking along the shore in search of starfish, in case I peered into the sea and saw that I had changed – that in fact, half the village was right, and I wasn’t beautiful. I watched myself like a hawk while feeling like a mouse.
‘My sisters didn’t know what to do – to tell me that of course I was beautiful only made me rely more on the villagers’ opinions. Such assurance from my sisters provided me comfort for a short spell of time, but it also made me feel foolish for needing it in the first place. But then if they told me that it didn’t matter whether I was beautiful or not, I would suspect that I was hideous. I’d handed myself over to the will of other people. I felt that I had to be beautiful in their eyes, otherwise I would no longer be myself. I had to keep this beauty whole, for the stars to stay in place.’
‘Beautiful or disfigured, Merina, it shouldn’t matter what other people think.’
‘Easy words. I should have ground the villagers’ opinions under my heel as dust. But haven’t you ever worried about what you look like? Actually, don’t answer that. Of course you haven’t. You’re Zeus’s son. Of course you’re handsome.’
‘You sound like one of your villagers,’ said Perseus.
This stung me. ‘Well, I think it’s easier being told you’re a handsome boy than it is to be told you’re a beautiful girl. When beauty’s assigned you as a girl, it somehow becomes the essence of your being. It takes over everything else you might be. When you’re a boy, it never dominates who you can be.’
‘But if you didn’t agree with all their scrutiny, why didn’t you just ignore it?’
‘I shouldn’t have had to do anything! Even ignoring it was an effort, when I could have been doing something else more useful.’ I sighed. ‘Perseus, when you’re a girl, people think your beauty is their possession. As if it’s there for their pleasure, as if they’ve got something invested in it. They think you owe them for their admiration. Look at your mother and how Zeus behaved to her, breaking through her window. The effort to maintain your outward appearance in order to keep people happy, and the fear if you don’t do it, are exhausting. You, on the other hand, can do what you like. You got on your boat and went sailing on a little trip, and no one stopped you. You could take that face of yours away and keep it for the dolphins, if you wanted. Not me. I wasn’t allowed.’
‘What makes you think I can do what I like?’ His voice was hard and angry. ‘What makes you think I wanted to get on my boat?’
‘I—’
‘I’m sorry for how your neighbours treated you, Merina. I truly am. People are fools. But you’re not the only person who grew up not feeling true to who you were inside, surrounded by people deciding your fate for you.’
‘You don’t know the half of it,’ I snapped.
We sat in frosty silence, but there was a kind of exhilaration mixed in with my anger. Finally, I was telling my story. Here we were, revealing ourselves to each other, even though we were not even sitting face to face. I felt fine threads of possibility connecting us, thickening, tightening their knots, drawing us together towards what I hoped would become an embrace – an embrace of two minds, at least, if not of two bodies.
‘All right,’ I said gently. ‘So tell me. What happened to you?’
‘You really want to know?’ he said.
I could tell he was still sore. ‘I really do,’ I said.
‘Well, I know what it’s like to have people decide things for you, that’s for sure,’ said Perseus. I heard him take a deep breath. ‘Since I can remember,’ he went on, ‘I’ve lived in Seriphos, at the court of King Polydectes.’ He uttered this man’s name as one might mention a particularly virulent disease. ‘Your island already feels more like home,’ said Perseus. ‘I feel freer here than I have in years.’
‘But why?’
‘You can have all the riches in the world and it still feels like a prison. The man who saved us after the storm took us to the court of Polydectes, and that’s where I grew up. I kept my head down, bought food at the markets, played with Orado. Seriphos was a safe place for a child to live. My mother and I had no money, but she was so loving to me, and people were always generous. And yes, they were always telling me how handsome I was. Poor me.’
‘You are handsome,’ I said. ‘At least, I imagine you are.’ I felt myself blush and was grateful for the rock dividing us.
There was a silence, and then he spoke again. ‘Merina?’
‘Yes?’
‘I think you’re worried about me seeing this … disfigurement of yours.’
‘No one’s seen me for a long time.’
‘I’ll wait.’
‘What if I’m never ready?’
Perseus sighed. ‘I feel like I can see you,’ he said.
‘And what do you see?’
‘I see dark hair.’
Daphne hissed indignantly and I clamped her jaw shut. ‘Well, it was dark once,’ I said.
‘Once?’
‘It’s … a different colour now. Quite a few colours, in fact.’
‘Sounds lovely.’
‘Lovely’s not quite the word I’d use,’ I said, continuing to wrestle with Daphne.
‘You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. I bet you’re quite … tall?’
‘True.’
‘And … you have green eyes?’
‘Nope,’ I said. ‘Brown.’
‘And I know you have a beautiful mouth.’
I said nothing to this, my skin tingling with pleasure and fear, but Perseus didn’t stop. ‘Just to see you for a few seconds would be worth all those weeks I spent at sea—’
‘I think you’d better get on with your story,’ I said, finally releasing Daphne.
He laughed. ‘All right. If you can believe it, by fifteen I was insufferable. I was the apple of everyone’s eye.’
I thought about the villagers back home, how their admiration for me had turned to hate. ‘You were told you were attractive, but no one punished you for it?’ I said. ‘Sounds terrible.’
‘Life was all right,’ he said. ‘My mother and I were safe. I had a girlfriend.’
Callisto reared from my head, as if to strike in Perseus’s direction. I held her down, hard, feeling her indignation pulsing in my palm. I tried to ignore her. Such indignation was ridiculous, whether it was in a mortal or a snake – Perseus was more than entitled to his life. ‘A girlfriend?’ I said.
‘Her name was Driana.’
‘Is she … still your girlfriend?’
‘When I left, she was. We fought about my leaving. She didn’t want me to go, but I had to.’
‘And now?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Why don’t you know?’ I heard him shift upon the gravel. ‘Why were you talking about seeing my beautiful mouth, if you already had a girlfriend?’
‘We weren’t serious, Merina.’
‘Right.’
‘She’s probably moved on. I’ve been gone so long.’
‘How long exactly have you been away from Seriphos?’
‘A few months. I had no choice. King Polydectes … It’s a different life, Merina. Being here with you … I feel like a different me.’
‘So do I,’ I whispered under my breath.