The Persistence of Memory

Chapter Two

When she tells me in a sharp tone that she's incapable of feeling art because she's a normal human being I'm not really listening. I'm imagining her naked, screaming my name as I fuck her. It's quite the visual masterpiece. Far better than my video installation anyway.

In fact, I have a semi by the time Nicole, her short-arse husband and the guy they're with comes striding toward us. I smile the smile I do at family dinners with my Aunty Breda. Reserved, polite, fake.

"Sweetheart, I see you've managed to nab the man of the hour," Eloise's date says. When he slides his arm around her I feel something inside me tense up. It's a familiar stance. A familiar gesture, like he's used to holding her like that. He's clearly more than just a date.

Immediately Eloise begins to look confused, glancing from me to her date and back again. When she catches my eye I flick my eyebrows up and smile, before turning to Nicole's short husband.

He's yapping in his overly sincere American accent from about a foot below me about how amazing I am, about how amazing the little snapshot of my childhood misery is. Like always, it makes me feel defensive. I'm always ready to defend it as something that built me. Something that forged me, like I'm a fucking ship.

I know the moment Eloise realises what she's done because she makes a soft little sound which only I seem to hear. It's like a gasp or a breath that she didn't want to let go of so soon, her pale skin paling a little more. I try not to stare at her but I see from the corner of my eye the look of horror take over her face. She hides that well too as it happens.

When I look round at her I can tell she's only pretending to listen. My guess is that she's in fact thinking about how to escape, to get as far away from me now as possible. She bites her bottom lip anxiously as Jordan yaps on and on incessantly. When she excuses herself and slips past me, I turn my head and watch her immaculate form walk away for a moment before turning back to Nicole, Jordan and the date.

"Well, we sold every ticket, Aidan. Literally, I had people snatching them from my hand," Nicole drawls.

"Yeah?" I rub the back of my neck. "I don't really get it to be honest," I say turning my head to Eloise's date. He's tall, about as tall as me, and good-looking in a guy-in-a-suit kind of way. His mouth is big though - shark-like. He grins rather than smiles.

"Aidan, my god sorry I'm so rude!" Nicole exclaims. "This is Oliver Alford. He works with Jordan." She smiles at him, not me. Which makes a change. She's always smiling at me. She smiles at me too fucking much. But then, everybody here smiles too fucking much. Oliver stretches his hand out, smiling. Obviously.

I nod. "Thanks for coming man. Means a lot," I lie as I take his hand. It doesn't mean a lot. It means nothing. I'm thankful the place isn't empty but I'd definitely rather Eloise was here alone.

"God no, my pleasure. Your work is exceptional. Really moving," he says, in a British accent, whilst grinning at me. He has so many fucking teeth. Why does he need so many teeth? Why does anyone need so many teeth?

"Thanks. Appreciate it," I lie again. Casually, I glance back again in the direction Eloise went.

"Sorry, my wife isn't a big art fan. She hates these kinds of things," Too many teeth explains. "I'm surprised I got her to come at all, please take no offence." He looks after her and a strange look passes across his face.

His wife.

She's his fucking wife.

The thud to the chest is immediate. I feel winded. I try and swallow but it doesn't happen. Instead, I end up blinking a few times and nodding. Her husband. The grinning twat with too many teeth was her husband.