Finally, I give you the epilogue, which I hope you enjoy reading. Hopefully, the way Vanessa's story ends lives up to your expectations... :)
Epilogue
Sarah closed the book and beamed at me. "Vanessa, you should be incredibly proud of yourself."
I sat up a little straighter and tried to smile, though it did nothing to quell the feeling of emptiness that was still hollow within me. "Thanks."
Sarah remained silent for a moment, her expression changing to one of sympathetic concern. "You've been extremely brave. Not only writing this, but actually doing all of it. I know that I'm just an ordinary, run-of-the-mill psychiatrist, but if you do want to talk about anything, Vanessa, I'm always here for you." She paused, then leaned across the table and took my hand in a caring way. "And I really am sorry about V."
I shrugged, then gazed at the book on the table. "So, what am I going to do with it?"
"That's your decision." She removed her hand from mine to turn to the next page of my notes, then looked back at me with a smile. "You do know that this session with me is your last, don't you? As for the book…." She let her voice trail off. "Have you ever thought about getting it published?"
"Erm–" I was brought up short as the thought of having my name on the front of a book in Waterstone's, displayed for all the world to see. At the same time, V's voice whispered through my head. "You, my child, are extremely talented. One day, you could be an artist."
"Well." A faint smile played across my face. "Maybe."
Sarah smiled back at me, getting up from her chair and enveloping me in a hug. "Everyone's very proud of you, you know. Especially your mother and Evey. And Patrick." She released me and winked. "He's a nice boy, isn't he?"
After the events of November the Fifth, I saw my mother for the first time in one year. Evey and Finch gave me a lift to my house, then tactfully waited inside the car while I knocked on the door, my legs shaking so hard it's surprising they didn't give way. When she first saw me, she cried my name, then she clung to me as if she could never bear to let me go. We hugged and cried for several long minutes, then hugged some more until I was able to introduce Evey to her. Finch, she already knew. It wasn't long after that that she met Patrick. Then, sitting down in our living room, Evey and I told the whole story to the three of them, Patrick interjecting at certain parts. When it was over, they sat in a stunned sort of silence, not knowing what to say.
But that was all right. They didn't have to say anything.
At the moment, Patrick's living with Mum and I. With the help of Sarah, and Inspector Finch, he's been trying to track down his parents. Finch says that he has a pretty good idea of where they are, and is certain that within the next month or so, Patrick will be reunited with them. No luck so far, but as Finch says, they'll keep on trying.
Evey and I haven't been back to the Shadow Gallery since the 5th. She's living with Finch now, and her hair has grown back; short and cropped, which really suits her. Once a week, I go to their house and we sit down with a cup of tea (!) and talk. They always have vases full of Violet Carsons on the windowsill or mantelpiece. None of us has said it yet, but I know that we won't be going back to the Gallery for a while. The memory of V is too strong, too raw still. Though V had said that he'd left everything to the two of us, I still have no idea if I want any of his things. Not yet, anyway. I still have quite a few of my clothes and other things in my room, so I don't really need my black bag at the moment. But maybe this next year, on November the 5th, Evey and I will go to the Gallery. And have our own, private memorial for V.
As for me, I'm getting on with life as best I can. Even so, my best attempts at normality are punctured by nightmares of V and fire and Fingermen. On those nights, I wake up shaking, a hand to my mouth to stifle my sobs. Those nights are the worst. But Patrick always knows. On those nights, he quietly comes into my room and comforts me, holding me in his arms until we both fall asleep.
This may seem like the end, but, exactly one month after V's death, something happened which I haven't told anyone else about.
Not my mother, not Patrick, not even Evey.
On the night of December the 5th, that was when I saw V for the very last time.
It was one of those nights. After the nightmares were over, I had fallen back to sleep again, but suddenly, something made my eyes flicker open.
V was standing at the side of my bed, tall and upright in his long black cloak, just as I remembered him. He was every bit as real as Patrick sleeping beside me. His mask– and the eyes behind it– were smiling at me. Then, just like he had all those months ago, he said to me, "You have a gift, Vanessa. Use it well."
And then he disappeared.
To all those who have read, favourited/followed and reviewed this story, cause believe it or not, you're the ones who keep me writing! Thank you all xxx