The Memory Painter

It was fascinating to hear her side. Bryan had thought she was just angry and bitter.

She put the picture back. “So tragic, the way they died … your father was heartbroken.”

“Did you know their other friends? The ones they worked with?” He couldn’t help fishing now that she had opened up, but Barbara didn’t seem to notice. She was lost in her own memories.

She shook her head. “No. I heard one man was badly injured in the explosion. And another man came by the house one day, asking if we had any papers—journals, that kind of thing. He was a bit of a prick actually. Your father said no, probably because he didn’t like him.”

Bryan gave a grim smile. Doc had never liked Conrad.

Barbara changed the subject and gave him a knowing look. “So, do I have to pass some sort of secret initiation before I can see your studio?”

Bryan laughed. Maybe she knew him better than he thought. “You passed. Just don’t touch anything.”

She looked thrilled and disappeared behind the Japanese silk screens. Bryan shook his head, amazed at how she continued to surprise him. He hurried to put the rest of Michael and Diana’s things back in the boxes before she returned. Explaining away the portrait had worked, but he didn’t want to push his luck.

After he had boxed all the films, clothes, and books, he took Michael’s journal and placed it in a drawer for safekeeping. He thought about what his mother had said. Why had Conrad wanted Michael’s journals? He already had the formula.

Bryan realized that he also knew the formula and fought to clamp down his excitement. He would think about that later. Right now it was time to join his mother and see her reaction to his paintings. He couldn’t put it off forever.

When he walked in, he found her standing before the one painting Bryan had created before he flew to Newfoundland. It was Garnissa holding Anssonno after he had been born. He wondered what affinity she felt for the image, if any. Did her spirit respond to the likeness of a woman who had once been her mother?

“So much talent. Where did it all come from?” Her face displayed a mixture of emotions as she took in the paintings. “You never stopped dreaming, did you?”