Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter!

When he first saw the paintings he stopped dead in his tracks. They were just round the corner from where he had been standing, and he would have known that they were hers even if she hadn't shown them to him.

She had painted her life. There was one of two little girls climbing a hill, another of a young woman staring out of the window, a dream like look on her face. Looking around he noticed there were several of the same person, all at different ages. There were several of a young man with dark hair, polishing a pair of shoes, laughing or leaning against a wall smoking. Some of the paintings were painted as though they were slightly out of focus; while others were so crystal clear one could almost feel the warmth from their skin. There were only two that were not of either the girl or the man.

One was of a blurry one of road, winding its way down a curvy down hill road that went through a forest, snow piling up on the banks on either side. At the one corner a green car was just coming into view. It was the scene of the accident, the one that had taken her best friend and her sister from her.

The last one was of a different man, this one as clear as day. He was staring at something in the distance, a slight smile on his face. His hazel eyes were focused, every light painted in vivid detail and he had very bushy eyebrows.

It was a painting of him.

"You painted me." He said, unable to take his eyes off the image of his face in front of him.

"And Becky and Thomas" She added, seemingly not noticing his amazement. "I painted my memories. "

CCEH

"Do you remember me mentioning an artist called Irene Swan?" Elsie asked. She seemed quiet, lost in thought. She had been down recently, not wanting to do anything other than lie in bed and read a book, another of those depressing things she currently loved, or play card games on her laptop. He invited her to all sorts of places, the movies, the theatre anywhere he could think of. Eventually it was Isobel who had given her a stern talking to and made her get up. He didn't know what she had said, but he had thanked god that Isobel had been put on this earth when he got the text from Elsie asking if he wanted to meet somewhere.

They had gone back to the lake, him secretly hoping that a happy memory would cheer her up, when everything else was still tainted by sorrow. They had wandered round the lake, her lagging behind, and eventually settled on a bench overlooking the water.

"Of course." Charles answered "you always loved her work. Isn't the one of the cheetah on your living room wall one of hers?"

"It is." She answered, a tiny smile appearing on her lips for the first time in weeks. "She's offering a course, just for just a few people, for six months. I...I applied."

"You did? When?"

"A month ago. A week after you convinced me to start painting again. I've been accepted. It starts next month."

Charles grinned, turning on the bench, with his arm resting behind her head.

"Well of course you've been accepted, you're the best there is." He said happily before turning serious "It'll be good for you, give you a new experience and keep you busy. Plus you'll learn a lot and get to spend time with someone you've looked up to for years."

He knew he was babbling, but he couldn't seem to stop. He was a bit hurt that she hadn't consulted him, or even told him she had applied. It wasn't as though he owned her, in fact he doubted that anyone could ever own Elsie Hughes, but he didn't understand why she hadn't mentioned it earlier.

He was thrilled though, thrilled that she was trying to move on with her life despite all the pain. Anything was better than her lying in bed, barely responding to anything he or her friends said.

"Charles." She said, interrupting his increasingly boring and repetitive monolog "It's in America

So that's why she didn't tell him.

"In America?" He repeated and huffed out a sigh.

"I know it's far, but like you said, it's an amazing opportunity" She admitted "and Becky always wanted to go there so..."

"I see. Does anyone else know?"

"Isobel knows. She's the one who told me about it and encouraged me to apply...and Beryl."

"So I'm the last one you told?" Charles asked, his voice betraying the hurt that he felt "Good to know."

"Charles I'm sorry, I didn't know how you'd react and I was scared-"

"Elsie I don't want to fight with you, let's just go" He said, standing up and pulling out his car keys.
"That's the problem Charles! You don't want to fight with me, even though I've told you I'll be leaving in a week's time for half a year! Everyone is tip toeing around me like I might break any second! I'm sick of it Charles! I'm tired of Isobel looking at me like I'm a patient; I'm tired of Beryl being afraid to talk openly with me in case she might upset me and most of all I'm tired of you treating me like a child that needs to be minded!"

"You're leaving in a week?" he asked, ashamed to admit that most of what she had said after that had gone over his head "and you're only telling me now?"

"I know, I said I'm sorry but-"

"Sorry doesn't cut it Elsie! You should have known that I would support you! We could have gone together."

"No. "She said, tears pooling in her eyes, making him feel like an utter bastard. "I have to do this by myself. I have to get away from the memories, I have to learn who I am again and I can't do that with people babying me."

"And the people that know and love you here, we're to be discarded is that it?"

"Of course not! I'd call, I'd email every day. We could Skype?"

"Skype?! Elsie, Skype isn't a relationship. Long distance relationships never work."

"We could make it work! Look what we've overcome already! If anyone could make it work god knows it's us!"

"I cannot love a face on a computer screen Elsie."

"So what are you saying Charles? That if I go, it's over between us?"

"I don't know Elsie!" he exclaimed, running his fingers through his hair "I honestly don't know."

There was a silence before Elsie drew herself up, her eyes blue stones of fury.

"You're a selfish bastard, you know that Charles." She spat, before turning on her heel and marching back to her car, leaving him to sink back down onto the bench and hate himself for the words he had just said.

He went to her house three days later, and had apologized. He helped her pack up a few boxes, and offered to mail her what she forgot.

They made love the last night she was there, the house seeming empty and hollow. She had cried when it ended, and he had held her until the sun came up. Then he drove her to the airport, and had kissed her goodbye. They exchanged emails once a day for about week, and then it dwindled to once a week, once a month and then it had all stopped. The last words reading

"I miss you,

Charles"

)(())(())((

"Why are some fuzzy?" he asked trying to swallow the lump in his throat

"Because that's all I can remember. That's why I painted them, they started to fade and I was scared I was going to lose them completely."

"Why am I so clear?" He knew he sounded vain, but he wanted to know.

"Because I see you all the time." She answered "the one regret I have."

He turned his head sharply, staring at her while trying to work out at what point he had become something to regret. Elsie turned her head to meet his gaze.

"I'm sorry I left you. "She said "and I know I probably owe you an explanation. But I'm glad you moved on and found happiness."

Elsie gently squeezed his arm, and Charles was once again biting back his emotions, his eyes fixing on the small paint blob that marked the edge of finger nail. Then her hand was gone and she walking away from him again.

What happiness? He wondered, and how could she possibly believe that he had moved on? Then it dawned on him

Alice.

Please leave a review if you have a moment!