Enigma II. Fighting the Man - 4. Chapter 4 - The Exhibition

All the way from the car to the front doors of the building Silver holds my hand so tightly it hurts. He is very nervous, his eyes constantly roving, searching the surroundings. I don’t know what he is searching for... danger I suppose. He is so distressed I am thinking about taking him back to the car. But Sam is here, a looming safe presence who will protect us from anything. I am sure that if he had been worried about anything he wouldn’t have let me bring Silver in the first place.

Shit, the building is so much bigger than I thought. The ceilings are so high I can barely see them. As well as the enormous marble hall into which we now walk there are galleries running around all four sides, each with rooms leading off. This place is a very fancy rabbit warren.

The whole atmosphere is hushed, like a library or a museum. It’s as if the air itself has got old and fragile. I am annoyed to see that there are a few people milling around but they are walking with soft steps and hushed voices and Silver doesn’t even seem to notice them. I think the only reason he is still holding my hand is because he has forgotten to let go.

The building is an art gallery, not one of the really big ones, quite a small one really, that specialises in private showings and showcasing local talents. Nevertheless, although I am no expert, some of the paintings I can see are fabulous. I think that Silver thinks so too.

A man is hurrying towards us. He is dressed in a dark business suit and his shoes make an incongruous tapping as they make their way across the marble floor. He is smiling in that ingratiating way that officials of all kinds exhibit, when the only other expression they are capable of, disapproval and mild contempt, is inappropriate.

“Ah, Mr Barratt, and this must be Mr Caulfield and of course the amazing artist. You... must be Silver.” He holds out his hand and Silver looks at it for a moment as if he isn’t quite sure what it is and then he turns his head again and becomes lost in the paintings. In fact he drops my hand and wanders across the hall, oblivious to the people around him, drawn by a painting which is hung between two doorways that lead to exhibition rooms beyond.

“I’m sorry. Could you excuse me?” I leave Sam to deal with the somewhat confused curator and I hurry after Silver. He’s completely enthralled now but if he should realise that I am not there, that he is alone... I shudder and make sure I am no more than a step behind him. I needn’t have bothered. I could have been on the other side of the Atlantic, for all he would have noticed.

He drifts to a halt in front of the painting and tilts his head to one side and then he just stares. Sometimes his eyes flick to one part or another and sometimes he tilts his head to the other side, but in between he just stares, oblivious to everything that is going on around him. After a while he moves to another painting, and then another.

At the end of the wall near the bottom of the stairs that would take us up to the first gallery, Silver stops dead and stares at the painting before him. I have to admit that it is utterly awesome. It is huge, about five feet square and depicts a tall ship floundering in a storm at sea. To one side a lighthouse sends out a doomed light which is swallowed by the rain and churnings water. In the foreground a woman with her hair and clothing soaked by the rain and whipped around her by the invisible winds, stares helplessly at the sinking ship.

The painting is quite breathtaking and it has clearly taken Silver’s breath away. He is barely breathing. Slowly, dreamily he moves forward and reaches out his hand to touch, very gently with one finger, the figure on the cliff, flicking outwards and then stroking downwards as if following the brush strokes. He scans every inch of the painting, soaking it in with an enraptured look on his face.

Silver is so absorbed in the painting and I am so absorbed in him that neither of us notice when Sam comes up behind sans the curator. However, none of us fail to notice when another figure comes bouncing across the hall making straight for us.

She is young, about my age I’d say and very petite. She reminds me in some ways of a much younger version of Julia. Hmm... I really must go and visit Julia. I keep promising but we are both so busy... Oh...

“Hey there. I’m Sandi and you’re beautiful so I figured that warranted an introduction.” She beams and, ignoring Sam and I, holds out a delicate hand with perfectly rounded nails, painted black, to Silver. He stares at the hand with that same, slightly dazed, confused expression. Unperturbed she grasps his left wrist with her right hand and raises his hand so that she can shake it firmly with her left. For a moment he stares at the joined hands and then lifts his eyes and hits her with a full watt Silver smile. I smirk a little as I see her go into shock.

She recovers remarkably quickly though and, shouldering me aside she wriggles in to stand next to Silver gazing up at the painting. Dropping his hand she links her arm through his and he looks down at her with a strange, fond expression on his face. For some reason this makes me angry, blazingly angry. How dare she? I open my mouth to speak but she beats me to it.

“I was lurking over there,” she flicks her head towards one of the rooms on the opposite side of the gallery, “but when I saw such a beautiful boy look so lovingly at my painting I thought that I just had to come over and see if I could get him to look like that at me.”

For a moment Silver looks lost and then he grasps the one part of the sentence he could understand and beams.

“This is your painting?”

“Every brush stroke. See... my name is there in tiny letters in the corner... Sandi Ray.” She stretches up on tiptoe to whisper conspiratorially into his ear. “That’s not my real name of course, but it’s easier and sweeter than Rafaela Mickelsen.”

Silver smiles. “Is that your name?”

She nods grinning. “Yep.”

“I like it. It’s very beautiful. But I think Sandi suits you better.”

“Oh thank you. Are you saying that I don’t suit a beautiful name?” She teases. Silver of course doesn’t understand. He frowns for a moment and then brightens and shrugs.

“No. But I still like Sandi better for you.”

Sandi is trying to conceal a grin behind a stern look but it isn’t happening, it couldn’t in the light of Silver’s smile.

“Alright then, Mr name expert, what’s yours?”

“My what?”

“Your name, of course.”

“Silver.”

“You are joking?” She giggles. He shakes his head, still smiling. “Wow... that’s amazing. Your name so suits you.” She reaches up and puts her tiny hands either side of his face, pulling it down towards her so she could look into his eyes. “You have silver eyes... did you know that?” She pats his cheek. “But your soul... your soul is full of gold.”

She turns back to the painting and, after staring at her with a slightly shocked expression for a moment, so does Silver. I glare at Sam, wanting to slap her silly little face but he shakes his head and nods to where Sandi and Silver are having a conversation about painting techniques. Silver is more animated than I have ever seen him with any person other than myself and Jake. Even with Sam and Hester he has a slight reserve, but today... he is glowing and full of fire, talking about something he loves so much.

I want to growl but... well... if he’s happy. Even if it is with that fawning little... I pull myself up short realising that the strange feelings that are assaulting me, making me want to put my hands around that slender throat and choke out the piping voice, are pure jealousy. I am jealous that Silver would look at a stranger like that, with fondness and not fear; that he would throw himself so enthusiastically into a discussion that he could never have with me. That someone else is giving him something I can’t. It hurts. It shouldn’t but it does.

“So, are you a painter Silver? You certainly seem to know what you’re talking about. Do you exhibit? Are any of your paintings here?”

Silver smiles and shakes his head, biting his lip. He looks so damn sexy and I can see that doesn’t go unnoticed by Sandi as her eyes brighten and she flashes the same look back at him.

“Oh no. I love to paint, it... it’s...” He looks up, his eyes dreamy. “It helped me get back from a bad place.” His eyes meet mine and he smiles a smile that sweeps away my jealous feelings. “But not as much as River did.”

“River?” She looks at me properly for the first time and giggles again. “River and Silver. What weird names.” Then she stops and taps her lip with her finger. “And yet...” She frowns then grins. “They suit you. They absolutely suit you. How fantastic. Are you together... I mean together, together... like lovers and stuff?”

Finding her very slightly hard to follow I am confused for the briefest moment when she stops speaking and Silver answers before I can, his eyes locking with mine in a look of such purity my heart stops.

“We love each other. He saved my life. I would die for him.”

“Oh WOW. That’s awesome. That’s the sweetest thing I ever heard. You guys are amazing. Damn shame though, I was hoping I could get off with you myself. Having seen that look I won’t bother, I know I don’t have a chance. You’re still probably the prettiest man I have ever seen though so at the very least I can get spend a couple of hours rotting my eyeballs on the eye candy. Can I show you around?”

I can tell that Silver has no idea what she’s talking about but he has the biggest smile on his face. I think he is just responding to her enthusiasm and liveliness, very similar qualities that he had been drawn to in Julia. Just seeing the light in his eyes makes it worth putting up with the little minx.

“Actually, there’s something we want to show Silver. It’s kind of a surprise.”

“Ooooh, that sounds exciting. Can I come?”

I exchange a helpless look with Sam who merely grins at me. A glance at Silver makes all but one answer impossible.

“Of course you can. Sam knows where to go... lead on Sam.”

“Sam’s a nice name. You’re awfully big aren’t you? Do you work out?”

“Some. I’m a police officer.”

“Wow... a policeman. Do you chase criminals, and do stakeouts and carry a gun.”

“I think you are probably watching too many American cop shows. It isn't really like that. Although, as I am in the armed response team I do wear a gun, yes.”

Sandi’s eyes turn round as saucers. “Awesome. Can I see it?”

“Well, I haven’t got it on me. We have to hand it in when we leave the unit. I’m not allowed to bring it home with me.”

“Oh well.” She looks disappointed but brightens very quickly. “Are you gay too... Oh wow... you’re not a threesome are you? I mean you’re not all together? That would be awesome.”

Sam coughs, choking on an explosive guffaw. “Um... no... no I’m not... It’s not that I would be totally against the idea myself... but I don’t think my wife would approve.”

“Oh bugger. No luck fishing this morning... um... it is still morning isn’t it? Yep... this morning.”

“You could always try casting your rod elsewhere.”

“Well if I see any better prospects floating by I’ll drift off, otherwise I am liking the view right where I am thank you very much.” Silver smiles down at her benevolently and her grin almost cracks her face.

Sam takes us through one of the doors leading off the main hallway and then through that into another room at the back. It’s a small room, and quite dark apart from the strip lights that surmount all the paintings. They are all on a theme and are somewhat ethereal, which is the reason for the subdued lighting I suppose.

Silver steps over the threshold and then freezes. His eyes flicker over the walls but he seems totally incapable of movement or speech. Not so Sandi. Rushing into the room she flits from painting to painting making exclamations of wonder and delight.

“Oooh.” She breathes. “They’re wonderful. I have never seen them before, they must be new. They are so delicate, so beautiful. Wow, this one’s wild. The colours. I wonder how the artist managed to get the hair to look so real... they have an amazing eye for detail.” She turns to Silver with a smile. “That’s why my paintings are so big... because I don’t.”

When she sees his frozen expression her smile fades. “Is everything alright? Don’t you like the paintings? Do you feel faint or something? It is quite stuffy in here. There were chairs in that last room... do you need to sit down?”

Barely registering her Silver shakes his head, then he moves... no glides across the room to gently brush one of the paintings with his fingers.

“You really should stop doing that you know. I was fine with it but not every artist likes to have their canvasses touched. If lots of people do it then it wears off the paint. The last thing you want is an angry artist chasing you out of the building.”

Silver turns with a confused expression on his face and barely glances at her. This time he only has eyes for me. “You? You did this?”

I smile and nod. “Sam helped.” I can’t say any more because suddenly my arms are full of Silver and he’s taken my breath away. He holds tight and I can feel his heart thudding. He’s shaking and I really hope that it’s because he’s pleased.

“Am I missing something?” Sandi pipes up, breaking the moment.

Swallowing and visibly gathering himself, Silver raises his head from my shoulder and smiles at her. “They’re mine. I didn’t know they were here.”

“Yours?” Her eyes go wide. “You did these? You painted them?” He nods and smiles a little uncertainly. “Fuck! And I call myself an artist. These are amazing. You must be very proud.”

“Proud?” A strange look comes over his face, the smile fading.

“Yes, you’re so talented and now everyone is going to see it. Everyone is going to know what a fabulous artist you are. WOW. I’ve never got a full exhibition room to myself. I just get one here and there... and the big one, of course, that’s been there forever. I donated it to the museum so they would display some of my smaller pieces. No one is going to buy something on that scale from an unknown artist but I thought I would raise my profile, get my name known.

“Are you hoping to sell yours? Usually it takes some time to get known and people will only buy known artists. It’s all very elitist. But these... you are so good I don’t think that will matter, especially if they get a glimpse of what the artist looks like. You’re going to be in high demand on ‘the scene’ very soon my dear.”

“Don’t worry,” she adds at the look of horror in his eyes. “I’ll help you. It’s not as bad as it seems.”

But I know he isn’t horrified by the thought of ‘the scene’ he has no idea what it means. He is horrified at the thought of losing his paintings. He has no real concept of being paid for something you do. For most of his life he has just done what’s he told and been thankful for getting fed. The idea of someone giving him money for his work is so alien as to be beyond his comprehension. Not so the loss of a painting though, he has created them. They are his children.

“River? Is that true? Are they going to take them away from me? I don’t want them to. I don’t want...”

“It’s alright Silver. Don’t worry. No one is going to take your paintings. This is an exhibition, a chance for people to come and see what a great artist you are. There’s a book in the corner that people can write in to tell you what they think of your paintings and we can come in sometimes and read it. When the exhibition is finished you can keep the book and they will give all your paintings back.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m certain.”

He relaxes and smiles again. Sandi is watching with a strange expression on her face.

“Don’t you want to sell your paintings? That’s weird.”

“It’s not weird Sandi. Just because you want to sell your paintings doesn’t mean that every artist does. Silver paints for love not money.”

“Maybe so. It’s still weird though. It’s as if... as if you don’t even know what that means.” She drifts across the floor and stops in front of him. He stares at her as if mesmerised by the dark pools of her eyes. He pushes away from me and takes the hand she reaches out to him. For the longest time they look into each other’s eyes until I am just about ready to push her away physically.

“What happened to you?” Her voice is very soft but he hears.

“I got lost.”

She smiles and nods. “You haven’t found your way back yet have you? Not all the way?” He shakes his head and she reaches up to pat his cheek. “Don’t worry hun, you will. I’ll help you.”

Inwardly I groan. I can’t think of anything worse. But Silver is smiling at her with a warmth in his eyes that I have not seen there for a long time. I can't say that I like it. But then... I can say that the reason I don’t like it is because I am jealous of her and that isn’t her problem, it’s mine.

Sandi takes Silver’s hand and leads him over to the first painting. Soon they are deep in animated conversation about something or other. I watch them as they move from painting to painting, brushing each one with their fingers, Silver leaning down to speak into her ear. Sometimes they giggle and it drives a nail into my heart every time.

“I’d say it was a success huh?”

“Sorry? A success? What?”

“Your plan River. You were miles away then.”

I force myself to smile. “Sorry. Yeah... I was just... thinking. Do you think so? That it’s a success I mean. I think so. Silver seems happier than he has in ages.”

“I haven’t seen him this comfortable with another person, ever. It’s sweet isn’t it?”

“Sweet?” I could have spat in his eye at that moment and he knows it. He grins.

“Not jealous are you River? Don’t worry, I don’t think you have anything to worry about. Unless you keep Silver in a glass case, safely under lock and key, I think this is something you are going to have to get used to.

“I know.” I growl, thinking that the glass case idea sounds pretty good right now. I can’t keep it up for long of course. Silver does seem happy, really happy and I would never begrudge him that, not for any reason. He keeps looking over at me anxiously and I do my best to smile although sometimes I have to struggle.

Sandi follows us around all day. She has lunch with us, explores the rest of the gallery with us, speaks to the curator about little touches that would show off Silver’s paintings ever better and generally sets my teeth on edge. But she is good for Silver, so good that when she suggests we go for a walk in the park in the sunshine Silver barely glances at me with the old scared, haunted look in his eyes, before he smiles and nods and lets her take his hand and draw him out into the sun.