Chapter 10 (Victor)

Goodness, what a joy this day was; in fact, one of the very best days of my whole life. It's wonderful that Nicole and I got to have it together, that nothing and no one came in our way. Though I admit, the way that Nicole talked about the lord she met, makes me feel strange. She seemed as though she were…fearful of him, as though he might have said something that made her feel uneasy. I'm unsure, but I suppose that is why she is so joyful about seeing my artwork.

Somehow, Nicole's strong belief that the museum we would see might accept my work into their collections is still echoing through my mind like a happy bell. Is she right in her firmness that I will be accepted into the museum? At first, I myself doubted the possibility, but listening to the words over in Nicole's voice suddenly made it true.

What is it about this girl that makes every word she says seem so true, and real? Perhaps it's because she's so confident and strong in her beliefs, able to stand alone when no one else is with her. But then, oh dear, listening to her carry on about her dead grandmother, it felt as though my own heart was breaking, watching the tears fall from her innocent eyes. It's funny. I've only known her for at least a day, and already, she's my very best friend.

Late that afternoon, she and I leave the park, with our creations in hand. At times, I try to peek at what Nicole has in her hand, but every time I do, she tucks it behind her back, and away from where I can see it. Everywhere she hides it, I try to look, but she blocks me at every try. Slowly, I grow anxious in trying to find out.

"Tell me, Nicole," I say, "what are you trying to hide from me?"

"Well, I'm not writing about how I think some of those people in the park have no dignity left," she says, a funny hint in her voice. "It's a little bit of a secret. I'll eventually give it to you to see, but just not now."

"Why not now?" I wonder out loud. "You trust me, don't you?"

"Well sure I do," she answers, looking right in my eyes. "You know I do. It's just…not finished yet, and unfinished work isn't as fascinating as when it's all finished, isn't it?"

I shrug, not knowing the answer. What matters is that, at least one day, she will show me what she is trying so hard to hide. From what Nicole has told me, she's a writer who could meet with the likes of Kipling and Stevenson. And constantly, I find my eyes going back and forth between the cobblestone road and the paper in Nicole's hand. She seems to notice, because she continually takes it out of my sight. Gradually I have to give up trying to see it, and she finally gives me a nod of approval.

By the time we arrive at my home, it is just after sundown, and all the windows are lit up. Mayhew and the fishmonger have gone inside, leaving the cart empty with their aprons folded on top. I swallow hard; Mayhew and the fishmonger only go inside when supper is ready, and that means they are waiting for me. I swallow again when I think of the promise Mayhew made to me, that he would inform my parents where I was if they ever came out to see that I was working hard enough. Of course, he had broken that promise the last time, and it's hard to tell if he had done it again. I become tense when this thought occurrs to me, but I don't tell Nicole.

Carefully, I knock on the door, and suddenly, I hear a rush of footsteps come towards it. It swings open, and before I can say a word of goodbye to Nicole, I am rushed away to the kitchen, where Mother pushes me into a chair and begins to talk on about when and where I should be allowed to walk away. Many times, I glance at Mayhew, who puts his hands behind his back and grins through his pipe. It's pleasing to see that he kept his promise to me, but then, what had he told Mother and Father? Did he inform them of what I was doing, that I was "courting a woman"? I don't dare ask him right there, because I know that Mother will only lecture me further, and I am not in the right mind to listen to her carry on more.

At last, when I'm dismissed to return to my bedroom, I run up the stairs and slam the door shut the moment that I'm inside. I glance at my sketchbook, and suddenly I'm surprised that my parents never spotted it. Still, I'm glad they did not, as it would lead to hours of Mother telling me my artwork was wasting the time I could be using to work, or to court a bride. Breathing deeply from my fast run up the stairs, I slip the sketchbook in between the other books on my desk, and glance out the window, gasping when I notice Nicole.

She's still standing outside the door, looking all around her, as though she is searching for something. Immediately, I leap at the chance to say goodbye to her, apologize for being rushed away so quickly. I push open the windows, and leanedown to look at Nicole.

"Nicole!" I call.

She glances in both directions, before she finally looks upward. Her face is shocked, but begins to warm to a gleeful grin. "Oh, Victor, I thought you'd still be downstairs. You didn't get in trouble, did you?"

I glance at the front door, and frown. "Oh, well, t-the usual talk from Mother. She didn't like me going off unexpectedly, but Mayhew kept his promise to explain where I was. I-I don't think that he has told them about you and me yet."

"Why not?" she asks.

I shrug. It's a shame that Mayhew can't ever get out more than ten words without having another coughing fit. And what with Mother dismissing me so quickly, its not as though I could plainly ask him what he had told my parents. Then again, it's unlikely that they would ever listen to me when they are so eager to put me back outside at the cart.

"I don't know, but I hope they can get the news and l-let me be," I say. "It will be a great relief once they know what is happening."

"But please, don't hurt yourself trying to tell them before our outing tomorrow," Nicole pleads. "I'd really hate to go there without my good friend."

"I cannot say that I don't feel the same," I reply. "I can't wait."

"Me too," Nicole adds, nodding and grinning. She and I are quiet for a moment, before she looks to her side, and clears her throat. "Well, I guess we'd better get some rest, if we're going to have the experience of a lifetime seeing the museum."

"The experience of many lifetimes," I add.

Nicole chuckles, and graciously puts her hands behind her back. "It's a little silly but…" She curtsies and her face forms the sweetest smile I have ever seen. "Good night. Good night," she whispers. She twirls around and walked off into the night.

"Good night," I call after her, and she looks back once more before she disappears completely into the shadows. I find myself smiling after her for a few moments, and then it occurs to me; where does Nicole walk off to whenever she and I aren't together? Does she have some relative who lived in the…poorer part of town, as she always seems to turn mysterious corners and walk off into shadows? In any case, I hope she's somewhere safe. She is my best friend, and I hope she's aware of who could be watching her. A jolt of fear shoots through me when I remember how she talked about the lord she met earlier in the park. She said that he wasn't quite charming, and was a little devious. My heart starts to hammer in my throat as I glance around the street below the window. The streets are dark, but only with the street lamps and the lights in windows brought some light. I try telling myself that Nicole will be safe if her home is nearby, but somehow I can't get rid of the small, lingering fear that something could happen to her if she was alone at night without a chaperone to accompany her.

I finally settle into bed, anxiously waiting for the next morning, when I will come close to seeing some of my artwork on display next to some more great artists. And spending that day with a good friend like Nicole, made me excitable enough that I didn't fall asleep until well after midnight.