Chapter Twenty-Three #2
Maybe that’s been the whole point of this thing. Perhaps Earl’s art was never about beauty, or fun, or people, or death, or choices for that matter. It was about feeling something, anything, this whole time.
And I do feel, as I draw. I feel the wonder of a blank canvas becoming full, the marvel that we can do this.
Humans can make art and know that they’re making art.
It’s pretty miraculous if you think about it, that as a species we can make anything interesting, just by looking at it a little differently.
I’m so full, yet it’s a flicker of a moment before the time is up, and the model is putting her robe back around her.
I hardly even recognise my drawing. It’s an outline.
‘There’s a hollow emptiness; this is very intriguing,’ Louis says, and I realise he’s right.
I’ve done a lot of shadow and shading on the outside, but I’ve left the inside completely blank.
‘Darkness,’ he finishes. He pronounces his s’s as z’s.
It’s possible that I’ve just drawn my trauma, but I don’t have time to dwell on it because a man in a lilac suit is coming towards me.
‘Excuse me, miss, but do I recognise you?’
‘No, I don’t think so,’ I tell him, hoping that we’re not about to have a repeat of MAM here.
‘I thought the same thing,’ a woman pipes up. She’s wearing a poncho; she looks like a giant bat. ‘From the Earl Spencer piece. She is a lot like you.’
‘Oh, do you think so?’ I’m not entirely sure what to say, so much for flying under the radar.
‘Yes, yes, it is you. Your hair is very unique. How fascinating.’ The woman is really close to my face. ‘Did you know Spencer?’
At this point the other artists are heading our way, all peering. I take it they’ve all been to the new exhibit.
For a moment, before the fear sets in, I feel pride for Earl. All these artists know who he is. It’s amazing, I wish he was here to see it.
‘Yes,’ I say proudly, my heart beating a heavy beat, even though my voice is shaky. ‘We knew him when we were children.’
The crowd make all the right cooing noises.
The pink lady claps her hands together really fast several times. ‘I must interview you. The man behind the artist.’ She holds his hands up to make a square. ‘I can see it now. You will give us the inside scoop.’
‘Interview me, what for?’ I look and feel quite alarmed.
‘Rise Art. It is my little, how you say? Magazine. We were the first to cover the exhibit.’
Rise Art. That’s the link that Mae sent me. The art world is small.
I don’t have time to reply, though, because Louis is urging me into the back room. His partner is there, looking sullen. The air is thick with smoke, which really isn’t good for me. It’s basically a storage cupboard we’re talking in, with art leaning against every inch of wall.
‘Gregor said you were very beautiful,’ the man in the Hawaiian shirt says, and I think he’s very grumpy for a person wearing a shirt with palm trees all over it. Amidst the smoke, it takes a short second for my brain to realise what’s happening.
‘What, Gregor, as in Earl’s broker? You know him? What can you tell me about the painting?’
The shirt man throws Louis a dirty look and makes a pft sound, but my mind is racing. The painting. Gregor. Rise Art. It’s as if all the pieces are there, but they won’t fit together and give me the answer I need.
‘But Gabriel, she is in the painting.’ The way Louis pronounces his t’s in English makes him sound more French than if he were just speaking French.
‘This does not matter. We made a promise.’
‘Look,’ I interrupt as Gabriel and Louis continue to throw dark looks at each other.
I direct my plea to Gabriel – he seems to be the one I need to convince here.
‘I’m not well.’ (I’m not proud about pulling out the dying card here, but tell me that you wouldn’t do the same).
‘I don’t know how long I have. Before the worst happens, I just want to know who has a painting of me.
This person obviously knew Gregor, and Earl, and I’d like to talk to them while I have the chance, that’s all. ’
‘Oft, she is dying. This is a tragedy.’ That’s Louis.
‘Non, she is too old for it to be a tragedy. Only sad.’
My heart rate is going berserk and it goes dark for a second, just at the corner of my eyes.
‘Mademoiselle?’ Louis asks.
I shake my head. ‘Sorry, I’m fine. But is there anything that you can tell me? Anything at all?’
Louis and Gabriel exchange a look and then Gabriel lights another cigarette.
‘Gregor swore us to secrecy,’ Louis starts. ‘Insufferable man, bragging about his new Spencer.’
‘Did he tell you where he got it from?’
‘Yes.’ Louis does a chef’s kiss. ‘He had a name, but I forget it too.’
Gabriel puffs out a plume of smoke and mutters something in French.
I’ve started to sweat, claustrophobic in this cupboard. I’ll take anything that they can tell me. I don’t think I realised, until now, just how much I want to know.
‘I would want to know, Gabriel, if someone had painted me,’ Louis says.
‘Who would paint you, you overblown…’
Gabriel starts swearing up a storm.
‘Please,’ I interrupt. ‘Anything you can tell me.’
‘All we know is this.’ I’m looking directly at Louis now, urging him on.
‘The owner of the painting was not French. He is like you, English. Gregor says it was someone who knew Earl well, like a grandfather to him. That’s what Gregor said.
’ He laughs. ‘Apparently, he has this painting for a long time. And to think that there was another Spencer and none of us knew.’
‘Wait, what, the owner of the painting knew Earl?’
‘Yes, Spencer left it to him, after he died.’
The rest of Earl’s estate, not that there was much back then, went to TB research, which makes sense now.
But I can’t get my brain to compute what Louis is saying.
It really sounds like he’s saying that Emmett had the painting all these years.
But that can’t be the case. Because he would have told me, wouldn’t he?
He wouldn’t have pretended like he had no clue where the painting came from when he had it the whole time.
He wouldn’t lie to me like that, would he?
I leave the gallery in a haze, messaging Emmett and telling him to meet me back at the hotel.
I don’t know what I’ll say to him. I don’t even know how I feel about being lied to. All I know is that, finally, I might get some answers about The Edge of Always.