Rock Paper Scissors

“Reading Rock Paper Scissors was like getting a little glimpse of your soul; a part of you that you weren’t quite ready to show me, but we shouldn’t hide secrets from each other or ourselves. Your dark and twisted love story, about a man who writes a letter to his wife every year on their anniversary, even after she dies, has inspired me to start writing some letters of my own. To you. Once a year. I don’t know whether I’ll share them with you yet, but maybe one day our children can read how we wrote our own love story, and lived happily ever after.”

This is the last paragraph of the first love letter. Because Amelia is Adam’s wife, the natural assumption is that these anniversary letters are from her—but they’re really from Robin, his first wife. The letter contains hints of unspoken events and issues. Feeney creates mystery through several cryptic comments; for instance, the letter says that they shouldn’t hide secrets without explaining what motivated that comment.

“There are as many varieties of heartbreak as there are love, but fear is always the same, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m afraid of so many things right now. I think perhaps the real reason I am so scared of losing—or leaving—my husband, is because I don’t have anyone else. I’ve never known what it is like to have a real family, and I’ve always been better at collecting acquaintances than making friends. On the rare occasion when I feel like I have met someone I can trust, I hold on. Tight. But my judgment can be faulty. There are some people in my life I shouldn’t have walked away from: I should have run.”

This follows Amelia’s description of turning down ill-suited dog adopters. The remark comparing “love” to “heartbreak” is an example of Amelia’s poetic use of proverbial sayings. It implies that she’s more literate than one might expect. Her fear of being abandoned and alone is a major element of her desire to stay married.

“Your naïveté about some of the authors you admire so much baffles me. You’re one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met, but you are easily fooled see all authors through rose-tinted reading glasses. The ability to write a good book doesn’t make someone a good person.”

In this first anniversary love letter, Robin implies that she’s a better judge of character than her husband—and that she has a secret history with Henry. The stricken words demonstrate that she has toned down her comments, though Adam theoretically will never see them—but that if he does, he’ll also see her original, blunter phrasing. The remark about good authors not necessarily being good people reflects her opinion of Henry.

“Amelia doesn’t understand. I always need to be working on a story or the real world gets too loud. I can’t seem to talk about anything lately without her getting upset. She sulks if I’m too quiet, but opening my mouth feels like navigating a minefield. I can’t win. I haven’t told her about what happened with Henry Winter because that’s something else she wouldn’t understand. Henry and his books weren’t just work for me, he became a surrogate father figure. I doubt he felt the same way, but feelings don’t have to be mutual to be real.”

Adam yearns for the distraction of work. He’s virtually unable to focus on the present moment, just as he can’t focus on a person’s facial features or emotional expressions. He perceives Amelia, who formerly resonated with his needs, as his adversary. Although Adam wants Amelia to accept his feelings, he’s hypocritically unable to accept hers.

“You kissed the air beside each other’s cheeks, and I marveled at how you do what you do. It’s as though you have a switch, one which I’m clearly missing. You become a different version of yourself at parties, the one everyone loves: charming, complementary, clever, popular, the center of their attention. Nothing like the shy, quiet man I know who disappears into his new, rather lovely, writing shed every day. It was like watching a performance. I love all the different versions of you, but I prefer my Adam, the real one who only I get to see.”

Writing her third anniversary letter, Robin describes Adam’s ability to portray himself as the life of a party, something he really loathes. Amelia believes the withdrawn, quiet Adam she loves is the authentic one. Ironically, Adam conceals his most important thoughts and plans from his wife. Feeney demonstrates that Adam is as deceptive with Robin as with the socialites with whom he schmoozes.

“It has been a long time since anyone came to visit Blackwater. Over a year since she has seen anyone unexpected here at all, aside from the occasional hiker—lost despite all the gadgets and gizmos they seem to carry nowadays—and there are always plenty of deer and sheep in the valley. But no people. It’s too remote and too far off the beaten track for most tourists to visit, and even the locals know to stay away. Blackwater Loch and the chapel beside it have had a reputation for as long as she can remember, and it has never been good.”

Robin, who lives in the cottage beside Blackwater Chapel, seems surprised to see Amelia and Adam arrive. Feeney implies that Robin isn’t a potential conspirator or plotter as the words and actions of Amelia and Adam indicate. In addition, Robin’s words imply that no wise person would choose Blackwater Chapel as a romantic getaway.

“With the door closed between us, I start feeling calmer again. More in control. I pretend not to know why I’m so nervous about being intimate with my own husband, but it’s one of those little white lies I tell myself. Just like we all do. I stand barefoot on the cold tile floor in the unfamiliar bathroom, and stare at the woman in the mirror, then I look away as I remove the rest of my clothes. the new black silk and lace night dress I bought just for this trip doesn’t turn me into someone else, but it might help turn him on. Is it wrong to want to be desired by the man I married?”

Amelia’s anxiety about being intimate with Adam arises in part from their not having shared physical affection for a long time. Also, each expresses distrust in the other, uncertainty about their setting, and ambivalence about their future together. Despite sexual intimacy typically being considered an expression of communication, mutual sacrifice, and celebration, Feeney portrays sex between Amelia and Adam as unlikely.

“I wonder if all marriages end the same way eventually. Maybe it is only ever a matter of time before life makes the love unravel. But then I think about those old married couples you see in the news every Valentine’s Day, the ones who have been together for sixty years and are still very much in love, grinning false teeth smiles for the cameras like teenage sweethearts. I wonder what their secret is and why nobody ever shared it with us.”

When they are unable even to mutually enjoy the scenery from the chapel bell tower, Amelia feels that the dissolution of their marriage is inevitable. Everything about the story, from her point of view, seems as if she tried her best to succeed in matrimony, though she’s close to surrendering and dissolving their marriage. Ironically, Adam’s view is that Amelia is the one who has poisoned their relationship.

“I know who you were with. A producer who has shown an interest in your first-ever screenplay: Rock Paper Scissors. It’s the manuscript I found in a drawer that inspired me to write secret letters of my own, to you. A flicker of attention from someone in the business about a story you have written, opposed to an adaption of someone else’s, and you’re like a dog in heat. I wonder if all writers are egomaniacs with low self-esteem? Or is it just you? You said the lunch meeting with her wouldn't take long, but I guess getting your first born into production was more important than us making a real child of our own.”

One irony of this passage is the divergency of hope between the two characters. Robin is totally committed to having a child. Adam is invested in breathing life into his screenplay. Feeney contrasts the dual conception processes by positing the female movie producer as the one Adam spends time with hoping to conceive a movie from the seed of his screenplay. Conversely, Adam doesn’t spend time with Robin but goes alone into a doctor’s examination room to provide the specimen that Robin may use to create a child. Saying he’s “like a dog in heat,” Robin implies that she knows which of the two fathers Adam wants to be.

“I’ve always felt abandoned by people I was foolish enough to care about, including my parents. Yes, they died in a car crash before I was born, but the result—me growing up alone—is the same as if they deserted me deliberately. If you don’t have anyone to love or be loved by as a child, then how do you learn?”

Feelings of abandonment dog Amelia throughout the narrative. Her work with rescued dogs—who are, by definition, abandoned—confirms for her that she lives in a world where love is inconstant. Saying that unloved people have a hard time learning how to love is her comment on her own inability to grasp and share true intimacy.

“‘It’s so lovely to meet you,’ she purred, holding out a perfectly manicured hand. For a moment I wasn’t sure whether to shake it, kiss it, or slap it away. I had an odd urge to curtsy. ‘Your husband confessed last night that he has never cooked you an anniversary meal. I said I didn’t want anything to do with his screenplay until that situation was rectified, and when he said he couldn't cook, I offered to help. It was supposed to be a surprise...But maybe it was a bad one?’

I felt my face get hot for several reasons all at once.”

This passage, in which October O’Brien introduces herself to Robin, raises the question of why Robin accepts October’s clever answer when it contains several obvious points of deception. October acknowledges that she and Adam secretly spoke the previous night. As Robin notes, he—not October—should have explained the meal, implying that October spontaneously concocted the explanation. Also, since Adam already complains about Robin’s jealousy, he wouldn’t have involved October in a plan requiring her to be alone with him in his house as a surprise for Robin. Feeney suggests that Robin so wants her marriage to succeed that she’s willing to ignore the threat October presents.

“Excavations in the crypt, to make a stronger foundation, revealed that the chapel had been used as a witch’s prison in the 1500s. Iron rings were found in the crypt’s walls, where women and children convicted of witchcraft were chained before being burned at the stake. The bones of more than 100 suspected witches were found buried in the floor, along with their offspring. Tests revealed that one skeleton was that of a five-year-old girl.”

After all the ominous innuendos, the narrative takes a serious, dangerous turn in Chapter 31, first with the disappearance of Bob and then with the historical flyer revealing that the chapel had been a prison, death chamber, and cemetery where women and children died. An earlier question—who set them up to come to Blackwater Chapel—re-emerges, since they find multiple articles about October planted in the kitchen. Feeney thus shows that the menacing situation has become personal and threatening.

“Sorry to disturb you, we didn’t mean to intrude. We are staying at Blackwater Chapel. There is no phone at the property, and no power due to the storm, no water thanks to frozen pipes, and no mobile signal. If you have a phone we could borrow, we would really appreciate it and promise to reimburse you for the call. We’ve lost our dog. If you see him, his name is Bob and we’re offering a generous reward for his safe return.

Many thanks, Amelia.”

As she pens this note before slipping it under the cabin door, Amelia knows that the silent woman inside the cottage is probably listening to what Amelia says about her to Adam. While the note is calm and polite, Amelia verbally criticizes the woman. Confrontation is an emerging aspect of Amelia’s character. As the novel progresses, she becomes more assertive. When she discovers the identity of the woman in the cottage, she’s ready to resort to physical violence.

“When you reach the top of a hill, you can often look back and see the whole path you took to make the journey. But while you’re on the path, it’s sometimes impossible to see where you're going or where you have been. Feels like a metaphor for life, and I’d be tempted to write the thought down if I wasn’t so damn cold.”

These are Adam’s thoughts as he and Amelia climb the hill beside Blackwater Chapel. Just as Adam perceives this insight as a metaphor for life—one cannot grasp the source or outcome of one’s journey in the middle of the trip—Feeney uses his statement as an ironic metaphor for what these characters are enduring. While Amelia and Adam have established plans and alternatives for their personal futures, neither has a clue about what will occur in the next few hours to permanently disrupt their lives.

“You haven’t been yourself for a while. I know that you are grieving for October, I understand that she was more than just a colleague, and the dream of seeing your own work on the screen stalling, again, must also be upsetting. But it still feels as if there is something else going on. Something you’re not telling me. There are residents in our lives, the ones who stay for years, and then there are the tourists just passing through. Sometimes it can be hard to tell a difference. We can’t, and don’t, and shouldn’t try to hold on to everyone that we meet, and I’ve met a lot of tourists in my life, people I should have kept at a safe distance. If you don’t let anyone get too close, they can’t hurt you.”

This passage is from the seventh anniversary letter. It seems to Robin that Adam is taking too long to recover from October O’Brien’s death. Keeney previously dropped broad hints that their relationship involved more than screenplays, which may be why Adam continues to grieve. In addition, the passage contains an ironic element in that Robin warns that people are only hurt when they allow others to become too close. This is precisely what Robin allows Amelia to do, costing her everything precious.

“‘He didn’t take the news well at all. It was like a spoiled child throwing a tantrum. I had Henry Winter on too high a pedestal in my whole life. I looked up to him even when he looked down on me. But then I saw him for who he was for the first time: a selfish, spiteful, and lonely old man.’

I take in his words, processing what they mean for him, and for us.

‘When was this?’

‘A while back. I tried to keep things friendly, but then he ignored my calls, and I haven’t spoken to him for...a long time. His books were all he had. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned from life as well as fiction, it’s that nobody is ever just a hero or just a villain. We all have it in us to be both.”

Adam breaks the news to Amelia that he’s estranged from Henry Winter. As the narrative proceeds, conversations revealing untold secrets become more frequent. Adam’s words prove prophetically correct in that, before the conclusion, all the primary characters in the novel demonstrate the ability for compassion, while they all act in self-centered, cruel, and even deadly ways.

“She knew Henry had sold his London flat by then and was living in his Scottish hideaway full time. He’s always been a hermit who preferred his own company. What she didn’t expect, was that she would be the one he would call in his hour of need. But then having nobody else was one of the few things they had in common. Writers are capable of creating the most elaborate and popular worlds, sometimes leaving rather small ones for themselves. Some horses need blinders to do what they do best and win the race. They need to feel alone and with no distractions. Some authors are the same; it’s a solitary profession.”

This passage, from a section focusing on Robin renewing her relationship with her father, Henry, captures the pervasive sense of isolation that every character in Rock Paper Scissors experiences. While the other characters complain about Henry’s reclusive insularity, each of them likewise exists in a virtually friendless vacuum. One might say that each of the main characters has created a tiny world for themselves that they alone control.

“You’re always a better husband when we have an audience.

“I felt so sorry for her as the at three of us sat in the lounge, drinking our anniversary champagne, and listening to her seemingly endless horror stories about single life. I couldn’t imagine being on my own at our age. The world has changed so much—online dating, speed dating, dating apps—it all sounds awful. I had never seen it before—perhaps because she did such a good job of hiding it beneath the baggy t-shirts and old jeans she normally wore—but my friend is quite beautiful when she makes an effort. If single life is so hard for her, imagine what it would be like for one of us mere mortals. I felt far too old for that sort of malarkey. I watched you, watching her and being so kind and considerate. She beamed constantly as you made polite conversation, as though there were a smile quota she had to fulfill before the end of the night. I was glad that the two of you seemed to get on. As we opened another bottle, and sat and listened to her talk about dreadful dates with terrible men, I realized just how lucky I was to have one of the good ones.”

As with the unexpected presence of October in her household, also on an anniversary, Robin responds to the presence of a beautiful woman guilelessly. Adam acts much like a malleable boy. Ironically, although this is the second time that Adam meets Amelia, Robin can assure herself that Adam doesn’t remember her. The novel’s male characters—Adam, Henry, and even Sam, the detective—are each easily manipulated by appeals to their vanity and interests. In contrast, the two women each demonstrate the ability to calculate and successfully carry out deliberate, insightful plans with lasting impacts.

“I wish I could see her face now, the way other people can. I wonder if she looks scared? Or does she look as composed as she sounds? And if so—given that we appear to be trapped in quite possibly in danger—Why isn’t she as afraid as I am? She seems to have forgotten all about her beloved dog. She’s lying about something, and not knowing what scares me. A haunted marriage is just as terrifying as a haunted house.”

After having little solid information for most of the narrative, now Adam struggles to understand all the data that is accumulating. Above all, he wonders why Amelia isn’t frightened and disoriented. The accumulation of artifacts apparently led Amelia to recognize that Robin is behind everything that’s happening. Amelia believes herself to be Robin’s match in every respect and seeks a confrontation with her. However, this reality becomes apparent only in retrospect since the narrative hasn’t yet revealed the major revelation—that Robin is the author of the anniversary letters.

“‘I know you can’t see it for yourself, so you’re going to have to trust me,’ Amelia says. After seducing me, her best friend’s husband, trusting her is something I’ve never been great at. ‘I’m telling you that these pictures are all of your ex-wife. The ones of her as a little girl look the spitting image of the ones of Henry as a little boy. The likeness is uncanny. They could be twins separated by forty years, or it might be time to accept that Robin is Henry’s daughter.’

Her words feel like a series of slaps, pinches, and punches. I can’t get my head around that, but I’m starting to believe what Amelia is saying.

‘I don’t understand why either of them wouldn’t have told me something as big as this,’ I say, hating the pathetic sound of my own voice.’”

This passage contains three of the narrative’s most important revelations: Robin is Adam’s first wife, Amelia is the “best friend” that the anniversary letters refer to, and Robin is Henry’s daughter. These developments clarify that the anniversary letters are from Robin rather than Amelia. In addition, this is a turning point in the sympathies the novel generates: Until this point, it depicted Robin as a troubled, malicious soul and Amelia as a loving wife trying to save her marriage. Feeney portrays Adam as feeling betrayed by the first wife—whom he betrayed—and lost in the whirlwind of the rapidly evolving plot.

“When Robin came home that Christmas, Henry barely spoke to her at all. She stayed locked inside a secret study with his beloved books. Just like always. One afternoon she found her dolls floating in the bathroom sink. They look like they were drowning, just like her mother had in the claw foot bath. When she woke up on Christmas morning, there were no gifts in the stocking that hung at the end of her bed. The only thing that it changed in the night was that Robin’s hair had been cut. There were two long blond plaits lying on the pillow where she had slept, and her mother’s pretty stork scissors were on the bedroom table.”

This elucidation of Robin’s backstory creates additional mysteries. Robin is convinced that her father perpetrated her mother’s death. Henry’s aloofness toward Robin is a reaction to her suspicions, which she wrote down in story form. Feeney raises the questions of Robin’s mother’s death and who cut of Robin’s hair. Henry, however, portrays her as an unstable adolescent. When Robin runs away at 18, it’s unclear whether she’s a troubled youth or a child trying to escape a monster.

“If Robin is really behind all this, and has been plotting some kind of revenge, then I’m considerably less scared than I was before. I’m smarter than her. A lot stronger too, mentally as well as physically. If this is her way of trying to win her husband back, it won't work. No one wants to be with a crazy woman, and I think it's safe to presume that’s what she has become.”

The irony of Amelia’s self-assurance is that Robin has successfully steered every step that Amelia and Adam have taken from the moment they arrived at Blackwater. Feeney used the previous chapters to reveal Robin’s creativity and resolve. The plot’s resolution becomes a struggle between the two women, with Adam serving as both the prize of their contest and as something of a “useful idiot” that Robin uses to distract Amelia.

“I knew this affair was a mistake from the start, but sometimes small mistakes lead to bigger ones. Robin wasn’t just my wife, she was the love of my life and my best friend. I didn’t just break her heart when I cheated on her, I broke my own. The errors of judgment lined up like dominoes after that, each knocking the next one down. When people talk about falling in love, I think they are right, it is like falling and sometimes when we fall we can get very badly hurt. It was never really love with Amelia. It was simply a case of lust in love’s clothing. Until I made matters even worse than they already were, by marrying a woman I had nothing in common with.”

Robin concealed the core of her plan to break Adam apart from Amelia, in the 12th anniversary letter, until the very end of her series of revelations. The tone of her letter, offering a reinstatement of their union and a path for Adam to write his own material instead of adapting the work of others, results in his warm remembrance of Robin and emotional rejection of Amelia. Feeney allows Adam this heartfelt expression of his underlying truest emotions for the first time in the narrative.