Life Begins

Isabelle settled into her seat and opened a book that she knew she probably wouldn’t read. Of course she would try to read it, if only to pass the time on the long journey from Paris to Marseille, but she knew that before she was a few pages into the story her own internal monologue would pick up the narration from the author and she would leave the setting of the novel to wander the pathways and corridors of her own mind.

            At least that would usually be the case but then maybe today would be different. After, last night she’d had the first complete night’s sleep in a long time. And she owed it all to a decision. A decision that had been months in the making, maybe even years, and yet it was the making of that decision that had finally quieted the raging internal monologue that had been keeping her awake. She’d slept, and so maybe she could also read. Maybe today she would finally be able to dive into the cool waters of a terrible novel.

Just like normal people do.

And appearing to be normal was incredibly important to Isabelle, which was why she was so obsessive about fashion and constantly updated her wardrobe and hair style. She wasn’t really fashion conscious at all – in fact she’d long since grown out of the need to adorn herself in pretty garments – but it was all there to tell the world that she was just normal twenty year old woman.

The hair, the makeup, the bag, the iPad - It was all a disguise. And only she and Dr Zimmer really knew what was beneath.

            Doors slammed closed, the guard on the platform whistled, the train jolted into movement and the busy Gare de Lyon platform began to slide past.

            A reminder buzzed on Isabelle’s phone but she was already bending down to retrieve the tablets from her bag, pre-empting the barely perceived alarm.  

            Every four hours, every day of her life Isabelle had taken her tablet and the action had now become so mechanical that a reminder was no longer needed. It was as natural and instinctive as breathing. And yet she kept the alarm set, if only to remind herself that she really could forget to take the tablet, if she had a mind to do so; that she was still in  charge and that taking the tablet was her own decision.  

            Two filled foil bubbles remained, the rest were empty. One tablet for now and then one more for Dr. Zimmer's waiting room.

            And then no more.

            She popped a pill out of the packet and swallowed it with a gulp of water before settling into her chair and turning her attention to her book.  

 

It turned out, just as Isabelle expected to be a truly dreadful book, but it did, nevertheless pass most of the long train journey if only by sending her to sleep, which it turned out was just as enjoyable. Purely the fact that she was now able to turn off her brain and nod off  on a busy train was enough to tell her that she had made the right decision.

Now, however, in Dr. Zimmer's reception her resolve was beginning to waver.

            She wanted to leave the programme, she was sure of that, but she knew she was going to find it hard to tell Dr. Zimmer. In the three years since he took over her case they’d become very close. Zimmer treated her like a human being rather than a lab rat as his predecessors had and it was perhaps because of this that Isabelle had finally felt comfortable enough to raise the question of leaving the programme. She’d opened up to him like she never had the previous doctors and as a result they’d become close. She thought of Dr. Zimmer as her friend, possibly her only friend  - and possibly even more than that.

And because of that he was always able to talk her round. Whether it was through a professional concern for her wellbeing or whether a less professional – but no less welcome – desire to keep seeing her Isabelle could never tell, but there was something in his shining, handsome face and the tone of his smooth voice as he called her his 'Medical Miracle,' that melted away her defences and led to her giving it just one more month.

            'Isabelle Bonnay,' she said to the young receptionist. 'to see dr. Zimmer'.

Isabelle was disappointed to note that the young receptionist was new. She seemed pleasant enough but the fact that she didn’t know Isabelle meant that she was about to look her on the database, which would throw up something of an anomaly.

            'I'm sorry madame,' she said, with a little uncertainty.

Here it comes thought Isabelle.

 ‘I think there’s a problem with the system. Could you please confirm your date of birth?'  

            ‘22^nd of September –‘

            ‘Isabelle!’ Isabelle turned to see Dr. Zimmer hanging from his doorway. Always smiling, always pleased to see her. ‘Come on in!’

            Isabelle was a little relieved at being spared the awkwardness of revealing her true age to a stranger. But then, it wouldn’t really hurt would it? After all, she might never be coming here again.

            ‘1915,’ she finished with a smile. The receptionist smiled awkwardly, clearly not entirely sure how to react to this very strange practical joke. Isabelle just smiled politely and turned to follow Zimmer into his office.

 

            ‘Are you quite sure you’ve thought this through?’ asked Dr. Zimmer. ‘You know what this might mean don’t you?’ His face was concerned and Isabelle dropped her gaze to the floor, conscious that her affections might betray her and that looking into his piercing blue eyes, his concern would simply be too much to bear as was so often the case before.  

            But not today. Today she stared at the floor.  

Her situation had always precluded her from love – in fact the physical act of love was always strictly prohibited under the programme, and since she saw that as the only natural conclusion to human affection she had avoided it altogether. Besides, the older she got and the greater the age gap between her and other men her physical age became, the more unseemly it felt to be in any way physically involved with them.

            But then Dr. Zimmer knew her situation intimately, and yet still seemed to show an interest which seemed to extend beyond the professional. Although he had never really vocalised his affections beyond a bit of flirting there was still a spark there. He knew her situation, he knew how old she was and it didn’t seem to put him off. The thought of never seeing him again suddenly seemed like a wholly unpleasant prospect.

             Should I reconsider?

            ‘Well I can see that you’ve made up your mind,’ said Zimmer at length.

            I can’t reconsider. The decision is made. The train is leaving the station and I’m on it. Just another, ordinary twenty year old woman

            ‘Of course, you’ll have to come back for a check up once every now and then.’

There was the flutter again. So she would get to see him again.

 ‘And we’ll have to get you weaned back onto solid foods. Protein shakes will be the best way to start, let your stomach get used to more than just water.’

Isabelle listened but didn’t really take anything in. As much as she loved talking to Dr Zimmerman she always felt a little disappointed when the conversation was of medical matters. She much preferred the small talk. ‘When you’re ready maybe you’ll let me take you for your very first coffee?’  

            That was better! Isabelle might have jumped for joy if her legs hadn’t just turned to jelly. She would definitely let him take her for coffee. She began to wonder what coffee even tasted like.

 And yet, although giddy at the prospect of enjoying life anew, a life which she sincerely hoped would involve Dr Zimmer, she still couldn’t hide from the fact that she had effectively just signed her own death warrant.  

            ‘How long do you think I’ll have?’ She asked. Dr. Zimmer recoiled and Isabelle couldn’t help feeling pleased that he was noticeably uncomfortable discussing her mortality.

            ‘Well,’ he said, clearly choosing his words carefully. ‘The first hurdle will be getting you to keep your food down. But once your metabolism stabilises there’s really no reason why you shouldn’t live a normal life to a normal age.’

            Isabelle felt herself a little disappointed at the thought that potentially she could have another fifty or sixty years to get through.  But at least now she would have a life. She could enjoy the pleasures of the flesh, the food and the drink, everything that people took for granted but which she’d always been denied. And she was now ready for her life to begin.

            ‘Thank you Doctor,’ she said, unsure of what else she could say. ‘And we’ll definitely go for coffee one day.’  

            ‘Oh please,’ said Zimmer. ‘I think you can now call me Jurgen.’

            Isabelle burst into tears.

 

Six weeks later Isabelle was outside a Paris cafe. On the small table in front of her sat a croissant and a cup of black coffee. The croissant was slightly ragged at the corners where she taken dainty nibbles from the edges and the coffee, similarly untouched but for a couple of tentative sips, was now cold. She was keeping her food down much better now but was still a little afraid of the effects of eating too much and hadn’t yet begun to enjoy it.  

            After leaving Dr. Zimmer’s office the last time she had been eager to make the most of her new found dietary freedom and, ignoring all of his advice she had run straight out and bought herself a chocolate bar for the train journey home. After one bite she almost instantly felt dizzy and nauseous, though the rush of sugar and the surge of endorphins was too pleasant to ignore and she’d gobbled the whole bar, just minutes before she was violently sick.

            And so for the last six weeks she had been living off the protein shakes that Zimmer had given her and even they were an effort to keep down. Between shakes she had taken tentative bites of solid foods like bread and a packet of crisps. But every time she did she had been sick for hours afterwards. It was only in the last few days that she begun to finally keep her food down, though she was still feeling incredibly nauseous every time she ate something and her stomach still cramped at the thought of solid food.

            And yet she was determined to make it work, determined to experience life, determined to feel the same simple pleasures that everyone around her took for granted.

            ‘You are looking well.’ Isabelle’s heart leapt at the familiar tones of her favourite voice in the world. Zimmer sat down opposite her and she placed her newspaper on the table.

            ‘Thank you,’ she said though she was sure she didn’t look well. Those two furtive sips of coffee had made her head spin. She was feeling queasy and felt certain that she must look deathly pale. But she appreciated the compliment nonetheless. ‘So we finally get to have our coffee!’

 Over the last six weeks she and Zimmer had grown far closer than before. At first he would call to just ‘check in’ but before long the medical matters became little more than a false pretext for a conversation before disappearing from their discourse altogether.

Zimmer was incredibly intelligent and wise and so the age difference hadn’t really come into play. They both liked the same things, read the same books and appreciated the same art and now they realised that they were both in love with one another.

And it was the most wonderful experience she could have imagined.

            Zimmer offered her another coffee which she accepted, pleasantly surprised at the fact that she really did want another cup, that the two sips she’d had were not enough and a hot cup of coffee would fulfil a need albeit a manufactured one. The croissant was also looking more appealing than it had before and she took another bite, for the first time really enjoying the taste and the sensation of food between her teeth. For the first time in her life she could honestly say that something was ‘delicious’ having never before understood the meaning of the word.

            Like all the orphans enrolled on the HEBE programme Isabelle had only ever ingested the basic proteins and nutrients required to stay alive, and as a result she had been granted eternal youth. But it had always been at a price – a price which had been too high for the other subjects of the experiment, all of whom had passed away having secretly, at one time or another,  broken the code. But Isabelle had resisted the temptations of the flesh and her base animal instincts of consumption and reproduction and as a result she still had the body and physicality of a beautiful young woman, but had never been free to enjoy it.  

For one hundred years Isabelle Bonnay had been on this earth but it was only now that she was starting to live. Now she was free to fulfil basic human needs like hunger and sexual desire; to enjoy the things that would one day rob her of her life but at the same time make it worth living.  

            ‘You’re smiling,’ said Zimmer who, Isabelle noted, was also smiling.

            ‘I’m very happy,’ she said. Zimmer’s smile broadened and he leaned across the table and kissed her softly on the lips. Isabelle’s heart pounded with an unfamiliar but delightful thump as blood raced through her body and her flesh tingled with the electricity of her very first kiss.

Isabelle was born in nineteen fifteen and now, one hundred years later, her life was about to begin.