Her memory was better than any prescription drug. Her memory was better than any therapist or counsellor.
Here at his mother’s house, with his study denied to him, Tom found himself in the long gallery, sitting underThe Ends of the Earth. He stretched his long legs out on the floor, closing his eyes and letting his head rest against the wall. He brought forth memories of Norway, remembering an orange and pink sky and how Ari’s skin had glowed underneath it. He remembered a faded hotel room, and how Ari had looked and felt in his arms. He remembered happier times and felt his mind clear.
When he opened his eyes again, there was a figure at the end of the gallery.
Ari.
Tom sat up quickly, watching as she walked towards him. She looked small and wan, wrapped up in a long coat, her hands crossed protectively over her stomach. She looked at him and,even in the dark, Tom could see that her hands were shaking, and her cheeks pale.
“Ari—” he began, but she shook her head, silencing him.
“Can I...” she began, and her voice wavered. “Can I talk to you?”
“Yes, of course,” Tom replied earnestly. “Please.”
Ari shook her head again, clearing her throat. “Um, can I... talk to you as Tom Miller? Just for a minute?”
Tom Miller. Tom felt his stomach sink.
“I, um—”
“I just...” Ari shrugged sadly “. . . I just need to tell him something.”
“It’s still me,” Tom whispered. “It’s still me, Ari.”
“No,” she said shortly, and the word echoed down the empty hall.
“Ari—”
“Please,” she begged. “Please pretend. Just for a minute.”
Wordlessly, Tom nodded. He watched as Ari brushed a tear away, coming to Tom’s side and settling next to him on the floor. She glanced above her head, sighing at the painting above.
“It was never my best work,” she said quietly.
“You know I loved it.”
“I gave it to you for a reason,” Ari said. “I never thought you would stay as long as you did, you know. I always expected you to walk out the door one day and never come back. I thought this painting would be something you would remember me by. That it would sit on your wall somewhere, and that maybe one day you would tell people about this great artist you once knew.” She gave a bitter sigh. “I guess I was both right and wrong, in a way. You did leave one day, and you never came back. You also hung the painting on a wall. It just wasn’t your wall. And you never told anyone about me. No one at all.”
“Ari, I never meant to hurt you,” Tom said miserably.
“That’s Tom Somerset talking, not my Tom.” Ari looked at him pleadingly. “Please pretend. Please.”
“Okay,” Tom exhaled hard. “Okay.”
Ari took a deep breath. “Tom, there’s something you need to know. I got pregnant. That time at theHotel de la Reine... when we weren’t careful. I got pregnant and I had a baby.”
Tom was dimly aware of his heart beating fast in his chest. Ari was doing this because she needed it, he realised. This was something she had to do, something that was giving her peace and a kind of comfort. Instinctively he reached over and took her hand. He squeezed her fingers, her skin cool against his, and he felt a tremulous rush of hope run through him when she squeezed his hand back.
“I had a baby girl,” Ari said softly. “February twenty-sixth.”
Tom felt something warm run through him. He knew his daughter’s birthday now. He would never forget that date again, he promised himself.
“She was eight pounds and nine ounces. The midwives all laughed when she was born, asking how a small thing like me could produce such a big baby. I told them her father was big. I told them your name. They were so kind,” Ari sniffled. “They didn’t ask where you were. They didn’t ask why you weren’t there.”
“I wish I’d been there,” Tom said fervently. “I wish to God I’d been there.”
“I had Luis with me. Sebastian stayed for as long as he could manage. At one point a doctor came in to measure my cervix and Sebbie went out for a snack and never came back. Luis found him in a Subway sandwich shop three miles away the next day.” Ari smiled. “Reine was born with a shock of dark hair. She looked just like you.”
