The gloom of the morning made its way into her bedroom window giving off a somber light. Evey tried to blink her eyes open and realized she slept late. She would have to call into work and let them know she wouldn't be coming in. The clock on the night table read 11:00AM, meaning she slept through the radio playing for quite some time. No one would be going to work today, and she started to wonder if she even had a job anymore.
Reports of Parliament on fire and the Norsefire overthrow hit the radio waves. Maybe now England could be enlightened with the truth. She listened for a while and sat up rubbing her eyes. Evey headed to the bathroom peered into the mirror. The stress of losing V had shown on her face, her eyes were red and puffy.
She wanted to tell V how she really felt, but now she would never have the chance. Reflecting on their last encounter, she felt helpless again as if she could have done something. Oh, V if only you let me save you. I could've saved you.
She decided to pull herself together and shower, stopping short as she reached for the water spigot. An intense feeling. Someone was watching her. She looked over her shoulder and glanced around long enough to discard the initial feeling; certain someone had been in the adjacent room. It was eerie how air moved. She turned the shower handle and climbed in. The hot water hit her skin. Once dressed, she left her apartment and grabbed an umbrella. She stuffed it into an overnight bag on the way out hoping for some rain to help her disguise herself for the walk back to the Shadow Gallery.
The streets bustled with people that ran in all different directions. Sirens wailed in the distance, the result of looting with no established government in force. The Shadow Gallery seemed the safest place now, the advantage being the ambiguity of an abandoned train station. No one would think to look there, but she still watched for anyone following her.
Down the old train station entrance to the concourse, it was dark. The scuttling of life that managed to escape the turmoil and the sound of her own footsteps comforted her. The bitter air made her pull her thick sweater around tighter and her large overnight bag closer to her body. I shouldn't be here yet, it's too soon. She was desperate to be near him. Whatever was left of him.
She came to a small alleyway after opening a secret door in the long train tunnel that was once part of Victoria Station. The signs along the tunnel wall spoke of a history long forgotten in the London Underground. The trains and this station were used in WW1 to carry wounded soldiers to and from France. Now, it carried her beloved to a Viking's death and Evey to a place of the unknown. I shouldn't have let you leave me.
In front of a steel camouflaged door that looked more like the old cement brickwork that was part of the underground, she remembered a code. V told her to punch it into the hidden keypad on the right side of the entrance She lifted the cover and hit V…I…A, confident that the well-protected Gallery was secure from unwanted visitors.
She shook her head and went inside noting a small beeping sound that notified her of the steel latch disengaging. It was not the only trip that went off. The door shut automatically not making a sound and re-locked itself. The long corridor to the gallery became brighter as she entered. This was his home. It felt as though she violated him. As if maybe the idea of him being gone was inaccurate.
She put her bag down and went to the Wurlitzer. The soft blue light soothed andwelcomed. Putting her hands on the warm glass, she then laid her head upon it.
Evey's eyes closed as she took in the air and the smells down here, her inner thoughts twisted. She held back tears. There were ways she wanted to express her feelings, but her anger had evoked fear and shut her down. Even when he admitted he fell in love with her before he died, she didn't budge. She was in disbelief as if her torment was incomplete. Now a more punishing, unrelenting torment, she understood her error. He was right. Evey…you should have listened to him.
She turned her head, opened her eyes, and looked to the way of the kitchen, slowly walking over to it as she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. It was warm and comfortable down here and the air was fresh and clean. V went through extreme measures making sure that the treasures in the Gallery were well preserved, never allowing moisture to accumulate.
Opening the refrigerator, she reached and found some cheese and fresh grapes. She waited too long since her last meal, and started feeling lightheaded. Low blood sugar made her shake lately, probably since she starved in a cell. Her body didn't feel as strong and it would take time to recuperate. The knot in her stomach affected her appetite, but she would have to be more careful or else she would find herself waking on the stone floor. She forced herself to eat, remembering the time spent there. She made a resolve to find out more, and it seemed that for the moment, there was a whole world to know. Spotting the kitchen radio, she stood up to turn it on. Light jazz. Glad for the company, the quiet was too close an acquaintance. Her hunger satisfied, she broke off a large piece of cheese. Then wandered some more. So many beautiful pieces of art displayed, some more vivid in color than others, placed so precisely so as not to diminish the beauty of the other. Her fingers touched some of the statues as she scanned the Gallery and looked closer at the paint strokes and use of color in many of the paintings.
Waterhouse, Picasso, Dali, Warhol. All banned. God.
A person could very easily get lost in this place, and be mesmerized by the spell cast from the hearts and minds that created the beautiful artwork in it. She came around to the Steinway standing by itself, extending a hand to touch the finely glossed curly wood as she sat down and opened it to play. Her fingers played awkward at first touching the keys as she played scales, finally playing a G note ringing out of tune. She continued. Strange…V wouldn't have left this un-tuned. She closed the keyboard cover in frustration-no one would be able to get to the Gallery to tune it.
There was a hallway in the opposite direction he dismissed himself to when he left her alone to complete his work, or retire for the evening. V gave her hints it was off limits, like the time she tried to follow him through the hallway. He politely turned around, said, "Goodnight Evey," She had felt her face turn red from embarrassment. Mortified, she went in the opposite direction to her room. At the time, she respected his wishes. Never having the nerve to venture further until now. She didn't wish to trip some alarm to let V know about her intrusion. Then her secret would be out.
The jazz from the radio in the kitchen diminished in the distance as she approached the corridor. There were quite a few doors, each one different. The hallway remained dark, probably so V could remain elusive and watch her from the shadows. Evey knew he was there most of the time. She tried to decide which door she would open first, and then tried the one closest.
The door opened to a dark room. She felt the left doorframe for a light switch, found none, and went further inside. She could see the outline of a table lamp and turned it on exposing what looked to be a small office with a roll-top desk. The desk must have been antique with its intricate woodwork and craftsmanship. There was also a framed needlepoint hanging on the wall over the desk that she recognized. The picture was reminiscent of a time when she awoke in the late morning to find V sitting on the couch in front of the Tele sewing needlepoint, humming to himself. It was endearing. The picture was a castle on a vast landscape, an original work she assumed, because she never saw one quite like it. She reached up on the wall to touch the intricate picture, as if the feel of the stitching could somehow bring him closer.
Sitting in the far corner were more book piles and a small chaise lounge trimmed with burgundy velvet. He probably came here to read by himself. She noticed volumes of informational and reference books, Anatomy, Physiology, Psychology, and books on Human Sexuality.
Through the hall to the other rooms. She cursed wishing for a flashlight. She went across to another larger door and opened it to yet another dark room. This time she had to fumble around for a while until she found a tall candlestick lamp on a small table against the wall closest to the door.
The light exposed a large room with a large antique four-poster bed ornately carved in mahogany. Hanging tassels and small pillows in rich colors adorned the well-dressed bed. The room had an open feel for the lack of furniture, and two closed doors leading in opposite directions. An oversized vase with dozens of Scarlet Carsons made their bright presence in the center of the room. Evey recognized Gustav Klimpt's "The Kiss" on the far wall, along with other original artwork. Paintings of beautiful women lounging, most of them half-naked stood propped in a corner.
She opened the closet, alarmed to see three V's looking at her- masks carefully placed facing outward on a higher shelf. His capes and silk shirts arranged neatly underneath. She touched the fabric of one of the capes, surprised at the softness and fine quality of the cashmere. Oh, I can smell him. Holding the cape made her long for him. A deep breath. She shook her head and shut the closet.
The other door was locked. She went through a small night table drawer on the other side of the bed and found three keys on a ring. Walking over to the locked door, she tried all three. It opened for the last one. She placed the keys in her pocket. This time the lights went on as the door opened. Ten monitors flickered to life with dozens of little knobs and switches that lit up. The monitor screens revealed alleyways, the entrance to the gallery, and the train station at different angles, someone's empty room, what looked to be a rooftop, and a couple of monitors showing streets above. She scanned these visions briefly and then thought she recognized something. Her room! It was her flat. He was watching me- shit! The sudden revelation knocked her into the control room chair.
He saw everything. What does it matter? He's dead. She closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands, moving them up to caress her shaved head. He was protecting you Evey as he always did. He was an honorable man. V would never invade on your privacy.
Sleep. I need sleep.
She went to retrieve her belongings in the overnight bag she brought with her. Some soft pajamas and a book. Then Evey went to the kitchen to make herself a peanut butter sandwich. Eating made her reminiscent of the times V made delicious gourmet meals for her. It seemed like long ago she lived here with him. The seclusion down here made her feel like a prisoner and she wondered how V felt being here alone all of the time with no one to talk to. She ate the last bite, grabbed the milk container in the fridge, and took a drink.
Evey turned her attention once more to the hallway.