The Persistence of Memory

Chapter Five

I arrive at Nicole's gallery just after noon, desperate to get inside out of the baking New York heat.

The large space is almost empty apart from a few random people dotted around staring at Aidan Foley's remarkable work. Thankfully none of them appears to be Nicole. I'm there two minutes before a brunette supermodel in a black sleeveless shift dress spots me and starts toward me.

"Hi there. Welcome to the Weston, can I help you?" She comes to a stop in front of me, looking me over somewhat snootily.

"Actually yes, I was wondering if Nicole was here? I'm a friend," I lie. I can't think of a time other than right now when I'd refer to Nicole as a friend. And I'm only doing it now because it's necessary.

"I'm sorry she's out at an appointment right now." She cocks her head to the side apologetically. "Can I help at all?"

"Oh well, I probably should have called first. She's always so busy, but I was in the neighbourhood and thought I'd pop in," I smile.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a painting. It's pastel in hue and looks like a woman but the shapes are too sharp. It's completely inhuman in the way its been drawn on the canvas. It's striking but it looks cold and impenetrable. Angry maybe. I wouldn't mind a closer look but the woman is shifting on her feet and I'm clearly about to lose her attention entirely. I look back and smile charmingly. "I'm sorry, did we meet last night? I'm Eloise. Jordan works with my husband? Oliver?"

"Oh, actually I think we did briefly, yes. Hello again, I'm Sasha." she smiles. Time to get my game face on. The one I used to worm my way into events I hadn't been invited to when I was at the magazine.

"Sasha yes, of course. You know what, maybe you can help. I'm looking for a contact number for Aidan Foley. I'd like to speak with him about one of his pieces. I know Nicole would have it but I'm guessing you would too?"

She eyes me curiously like she's figured out my game. Good luck Sasha. Not even I know what my game is.

"Well yes, we have contact details for all the artists. But there are regulations about giving them out of course."

"Oh god, of course, there are. You know what, why don't I call Nic, see if she can text me it. I should maybe have gotten his number last night." I dig my phone out of my bag and dial the number of our apartment. Chastising myself for calling it apartment even in my head. When it goes to answerphone I turn away from her and disconnect the call. Speaking loud enough so that Sasha can hear me, I leave a message for Nicole. "Hey Nic, it's me. I'm at the gallery. I just popped in to get Aidan's number but you're not here. So if you get this can you text it to me. Cheers babe. Talk later." When I turn back to Sasha she's smiling and looking indecisive. She's close to breaking.

In that instant, I get a tiny fraction of clarity on what I'm doing here. The extremes I'm going to in order to see this man again. It was close to ridiculous. "No answer." I shrug.

Sasha debates internally for a bit before nodding. "You know what. I can call Mr Foley. Let him know you're looking to speak with him. Take it from there?" she offers.

Slightly startled, I process this. What if he tells her absolutely no way did he want to speak to the stuck up Mrs Alford who verbally insulted his work last night? What then? I had been prepared to take that response personally from him over the phone. Not via Sasha, the Glamazon Gallery assistant.

"Oh really? That would be great. Thank you." I gulp.

She turns and I follow her across the gallery and through a lower ceilinged corridor to the back, where she motions me into a stylishly compact office made of glass. It has no walls except for the back wall which looks out into the alley behind the gallery. I take a seat on the ridiculous white Wassily chair in front of the white gloss lacquer desk, as she walks around it and logs into a white desktop Mac computer. So Nicole liked white. Perhaps it was to show off her fake tan better? After some quick tapping on the keyboard Sasha makes a satisfied sounding noise and reaches for the white desk phone.