The Unknown Road

19 - Tessa

Archie has an incredibly keen eye for art, no matter where it is.

He's amazing at it, for one thing, his sketches are incredible, which means he knows an amazing painting when he sees one.

He's always stopping on the street when he sees talented graffiti, taking pictures and posting to Instagram, his shelves are full of Art History books. And he genuinely does read them. And his favourite place to go is the Impressionist's Gallery at the National Gallery in London,

When we were kids, maybe about eight or nine, we were taken there on a school trip, and I think that's where Archie first understood his love of art. I seem to remember his mouth was open with wonder the whole day, and he got told off four times by the teachers for lagging behind.

The best moment, though, was when we were counted at the end of the day. I'd heard the teachers saying we were one child short, and I just smiled, knowing that was Archie. The teachers had started to panic, but ten minutes later, security brought him back to us and told the teachers he'd been found just sitting, staring at Van Gogh's self-portrait.

Later that day, when Matt asked him, Archie had simply said he just felt completely entranced, and couldn't leave.

Since then, we've been to every impressionist exhibition there. Matt doesn't go anymore, but Millie or I go with him, and he still has that same look on his face when he looks at that painting.

***

AS WE ROUND THE corner to his house, I notice Archie's craning his neck to try and look at something.

"Arch, what are you doing?"

He wasn't doing it on purpose but he keeps pulling me into him as he cranes, making me trip over my own feet. So when he does it for the third time, I let his hand go, tutting involuntarily.

"Sorry, I was just checking who's home," he wipes his hands on his trousers and I can see he's relaxed slightly. I can't help but think he's checking for one car in particular. "No one is. Mum must still be at Aunt Sara's."

"Where's your dad?"

"Australia. He's there for like three more weeks." His jaw bounces as he says it with an edge.

I would sound more upset if I hadn't seen Dad for a few weeks, but I can't help and think I'm about hear why. Not only that, but Archie and Millie's behaviour recently has been arousing suspicions that I'd been right about who was responsible for those scars covering his back.

Unlocking the door, he gestures me in first then locks the door again behind us. I could smell something coming from the kitchen, so it looked like Martin was home and cooking something delicious. As Archie takes my hand and pulls me up the stairs, I can feel my mouth start to water.

My heart is pounding in my ears as he leads me into his room. I'd been in here so many times, doing homework or just hanging out, but this time feels completely different.

But I'm never not blown away by the mural in here. It's directly across from his bed, and it's one he painted himself of the beach in Rio. Its so lifelike, and the fact he drew and painted it from a postcard makes it even more awesome.

He lets my hand go as he shuts the door behind him, so I walk over to the bed and take off my coat, now feeling a bit nauseous with nerves. When I look up at him, he's looking intently at me as I take off my jumper. Even though I'm hot from walking from the station, as he looks at me, a cold but delicious shiver runs up my spine. 

Without blinking he takes off his coat and jumper and takes a step towards me. I mirror him.

"So..." I take a step towards him again.