Delphine's sleep that night was restless. She was half woken again and again by strange dreams. In and out of sleep she went, landing finally in her early childhood in Lille. She was in her bedroom in her family's townhouse, wearing soft rose print pyjamas, staring out the window while the au pair brushed her damp curls. The sun was setting, and before long, the streetlights clicked on, bathing the pair of them in gentle orange light. Her maman was still not home. The au pair kept brushing. Her maman was never home for Delphine's bedtime. The hard silver hairbrush was starting to hurt her head. It was time to stop waiting now, and she was tucked in, in her pink sleigh shaped bed with the white lacy cover, her stuffed cat in hand. The nineteenth century globe on the shelf above her, that she had never been allowed to touch, began spinning slowly. The cat in her hand began disintegrating. She wasn't sure if she'd fallen asleep again or if this was another scene from her dream, but she half woke, smelling her mother's perfume, the expensive gin and tobacco on the breath near her face. Delphine inhaled deeply, but when she rolled over, her mother's face was missing, with a black nothingness under her hair. The woman leant in to kiss her and Delphine began to scream and scream and scream, waking finally in her bed in Toronto, her laptop still glowing next to her and her mother nowhere in sight, an absence common throughout her life.
Panicked, she groped for the lamp, her eyes stinging with the brightness when it clicked on. She was sticky with sweat, and her mouth was dry and sour. The glass of water next to her bed had been there for days, but still she gulped greedily at it, trying to wash the dream away. She raked her fingers through her hair. It was tangled; no one had brushed it for her in a long time. Delphine crawled across the bed to the window sill and pushed it open. She lit a cigarette. She made rings with the smoke. She flicked the ashes in the ashtray and did it all without letting her mind's eye rest upon her mother, even for a second. A couple walked past, underneath her window. She watched them carefully. The woman was tiny, with dark hair. She was wrapped up in what appeared to be her boyfriend's coat, and leant in to him, laughing, as they passed. Delphine flicked the end of her cigarette towards them and the tall blonde man looked up. He caught her eye, and held her gaze for a few steps, before Delphine broke it off as she turned back towards her bed. She took two Valium, pulled the cover back around herself, and fell back to sleep. No dreams this time, just nothingness.