Chapter Six

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(Three months later)

The final notes of the symphony resounded, loud and clear despite the distance, in a small chamber hidden far beneath the Metropolitan Opera. When their last echoes had subsided, Catherine shifted on the cushions to stretch her legs, slightly numbed by immobility. "It was really beautiful!"

"Indeed!" Vincent answered, rising to help her to her feet. "I've heard Beethoven's 5^th several times in the past, but never performed with such mastery! We should go now, Catherine. It's late, and I'm afraid Father will have a scolding ready for our return."

She giggled. "A small price to pay for such a wonderful evening! Father shouldn't worry so much, I feel fine!"

"So it appears." He softly answered, helping her don the cloak Mary hade made for her. "But you must be careful, Catherine."

"I am careful!" she protested. "And docile, too. I do everything he tells me, but I didn't want to give up that concert! It may be the last one I'll be able to attend for a long time. Thank you for taking me!"

"It's always a pleasure, Catherine." He answered gracefully, offering her his arm and leading her through the chamber entrance.

They walked for a while in companionable silence. Yes, it was probably the last time Father would allow Catherine to walk that far, Vincent thought, and he knew he would miss those moments. He remembered how he had felt the first time he'd dared ask her if she would like to accompany him. He'd blurted out the offer on an impulse, regretting it almost immediately, but Catherine had looked so happy! At the moment he'd attributed her enthusiastic acceptance to the lack of distractions Below compared to what he imagined as a brilliant social life Above. They had come a long way since then, and he'd finally accepted that Catherine did enjoy his company, as he enjoyed hers.

From the first evening, when he'd found himself able to tell her things he kept hidden even from Father, he'd felt... drawn to her, and he now knew it wasn't only his sense of hospitality that had made him seek opportunities to spend time with Catherine. To his surprise, he'd found her willing, eager even, and he'd gladly devoted most of the time he could spare to her. They would walk together, read to each other, and talk. Catherine was the only person to whom he sometimes allowed himself to talk about his loss of memory, and the way it affected him. About his fears of what those lost months could hold... and every time she had found the words to reassure and comfort him. She had told him many things, too, about her job, her friends, her parents. Not a word, though, about her pregnancy, or the reason that had made her come Below, and Vincent couldn't help feeling a little hurt about it, even if he knew she was entitled to her secret. At least, the terrible pain he'd felt in her at the beginning had subsided. Catherine seemed happy now, and during their moments together, only on rare occasions had he seen a passing cloud of melancholy in her eyes.

Now, he reflected with humor, he seemed to have become... Catherine's 'official escort' Below. He'd noticed that no one else ever took the place near him at meals or community occasions, leaving it free for Catherine, and if he arrived after her, a place would have been kept for him at her side. He'd grown more or less accustomed to the strangeness of hearing both their names frequently associated by the people Below: 'Catherine and Vincent', 'Vincent and Catherine', as if in everyone's mind they belonged together! He knew of course that wasn't true. Catherine belonged to the world Above, she had only claimed temporary shelter in the tunnels. And one day she would go...

For the time being, though, Catherine was here, in his world, and he enjoyed every precious minute spent in her company. He revelled in the smallest things, the light touch of her small hand in the crook of his arm, the trusting way she leaned on him as they walked together. This warm companionship, this... intimacy with a woman were things he'd never thought he'd have in his life, and he was grateful to have been granted that unexpected gift, for however long it would last.

"Vincent?"

"Yes, Catherine?"

"You seem so far away!"

"I'm not. I'm here, with you!"

She nodded with a smile, but there was a slightly incredulous glint in her eyes. Wisely, she changed subject. "How are the preparations in the Great Hall going?"

"A little hectic, as usual, but we have two days left. We'll be ready in time. We always are."

She sighed. "I just can't believe it's Winterfest again! Last year I was so thrilled to be invited!"

"Was it your... first Winterfest?" he softly inquired.

Catherine's heart beat faster. This was the very first time Vincent asked her about her previous involvement with his world.

"Yes, it was." she answered as matter-of-factly as she could. "It meant so much to me when you brought me my candle! I found it so beautiful! How could I have imagined that a year later I'd be making them?"

Vincent kept an impassible face, but his mind was reeling. It was the children's task to deliver the candles to most of the Helpers, but there always were a few personal deliveries made by some tunnel-dwellers to special friends they had Above. And Catherine had just said he had personally brought her the invitation... Could it mean that...?. No. Father or the Council had probably sent him, to show their gratitude for Catherine's dedication during the plague...

He nodded. "And you make them beautifully! Rebecca says you have been a great help for her!"

She smiled fondly. Helping Rebecca make candles was one of the ways she had found to contribute to the daily tasks Below. It had been a bit awkward at the beginning, because she'd never been used to making things with her own hands, but she'd soon discovered that she loved it and was now a skilled candle maker. She liked the warm fragrance of melted wax and enjoyed the moment when a new batch of perfectly shaped candles came out of the molds, ready to bring light and warmth in the tunnels, keep the darkness away from the world which was now hers. Making the Winterfest candles had been joyful, thrilling work, the purpose and meaning of them always in her mind as she dipped them one by one into the colored wax.

One of her other tasks was giving Mary and Lena a hand with the youngest children. Father had protested at first, fearing the fatigue it would cause her, but she had insisted, arguing that she needed to learn about childcare, as she'd not often been near young children in her life Above and knew nothing about them. Now diapers and bottles held no more secrets for her and she was longing for the day when she would hold her own child in her arms.

But even the sweetness of the little ones didn't match the satisfactions she found in what she considered her most important job Below: teaching. The tunnel community put great store on education, and it was mostly Father and Vincent who carried the responsibility of organizing and teaching classes, along with their already numerous respective tasks. They had both heartily welcomed her proposal to take over some of their schooling duties and she now taught for three hours a day, shared between the older and middle children. It had been a thrilling challenge, and a lot of work, but the tunnel children were so well-behaved, interested and eager that teaching them was a very enriching, rewarding experience. As an added bonus it gave her the opportunity to spend a lot of time with Vincent, preparing classes and discussing every child's progress.

All that made for very full days but despite her now clearly bulging stomach she didn't feel tired at all and her pregnancy was progressing in the most normal, healthy, eventless way, which even Father had somewhat reluctantly admitted. Good food and rest had certainly helped put her back in shape after her arrival Below, but she knew that Vincent's presence, and attitude, had been determinant in restoring her health and morale. She marvelled at how easily they had built a new relationship, and every passing day made it stronger, closer to what they had shared before, yet different in many ways. Their bond was gone, and Vincent's memories showed no sign yet of coming back, but some painful obstacles had also disappeared from their way. One of them was her life Above, in a realm Vincent considered as inaccessible to him. Though she sometimes missed her balcony, it felt better to have a whole world in common with him than a few, however cherished, square yards. They now had hours to spend together, instead of stolen minutes, often tainted by the urgency of a dramatic situation.

Violence was now blissfully absent from their lives, as Mouse's devices kept intruders away from the tunnels, but Catherine felt that even if Vincent had had to defend his world, he would have done it without rage or passion, without giving in to the darkness. Hours of painful self-examination during Vincent's illness had made her understand that the dangers she put herself in so frequently had triggered his deepest, darkest violence through their bond, and, helped by Paracelsus who understood that all too well, led him on the descending slope to madness. She couldn't help feeling somewhat thankful that those awful moments were now forgotten, even if the price to pay for that was almost unbearably high.

The Vincent she had found on arriving Below was one she had never known. It was Vincent as he had been before his finding her and bonding with her had changed his life. A quiet, somewhat introspective man but a rather serene, self-assured one, at ease in his world and at peace with his life, though affected by his loss of memory.

And this time she had not made a dramatic, traumatic entrance into his existence, shaking the very foundations of it. This time she was not some idealized, unreachable dream from a separate, forbidden world, but a part of his own world, of his own family.

She had eased herself back into Vincent's life with the complicity of the whole community, and Father's blessing as well, which made a big difference, but finally the greatest help had come from Vincent himself. From the beginning he'd sought out her company. Maybe out of curiosity, maybe because he wished to get 're-acquainted' with someone who had been part of his life... or maybe just because something deep inside had drawn him to her.

Over the last three months they had built a new wealth of common memories, made of shared everyday routine, quiet moments, intimate talks and discreet yet unmistakable courtship. Vincent had fallen in love with her again! He wasn't ready yet to admit it, if only to himself, maybe not even aware that he was courting her, as everyone Below had noticed, but his every look, every gesture betrayed his feelings for her, and it helped her face the many uncertainties their future still held, whether Vincent did or didn't recover his memories.

Catherine was aware the main obstacle now between them was her pregnancy, her more and more obviously carrying what Vincent thought to be another man's child. Though he'd never asked she knew he had to be wondering who the child's father was, and, most of all, what place that unknown man had held, might still be holding, in her life. She couldn't yet tell him the truth but she had unobtrusively taken a few progressive steps to include Vincent in her pregnancy, let him share it in a closer way than a mere friend would, and he had shown little resistance...

"Catherine?"

"Yes, Vincent?"

"It's your turn to be lost in your thoughts, it would seem." he gently reproached.

She smiled apologetically. "Sorry. It's such a wonderful evening!"

"Aren't you feeling tired?"

"Not at all. I feel fine, don't worry."

"In summer I usually attend concerts in the park."

"I know." she answered. "I've been to concerts in the park all my life. Isn't it nice to think that we've been listening to the same music long before we knew each other?"

"Yes, it's... nice." Vincent quietly admitted. "Maybe not always the same music, though. I'm afraid I'm not very much drawn to... the more modern performances you seem to enjoy in addition to classical music. I did try, out of curiosity, but most of it is just... noise for me."

She giggled. "Everyone is entitled to his own tastes, Vincent. At least you tried."

"To be completely honest, there were a few that I did enjoy. I remember one, seven or eight years ago."

"Oh? Which one?"

"I don't recall their names, but they were two men, with beautifully matching voices. I liked most of their melodies, and the way they sung, but it was the words that drew me. Particularly one song, which seemed addressed directly to me, listening below in the darkness."

"What song was it? Maybe I know it."

Vincent took a few seconds before answering. "It started with 'Hello darkness my old friend, I've come to talk with you again.' "

" 'Sound of Silence'!" Catherine exclaimed. "Simon and Garfunkel in '81! So you were there, too! That song is one of my favorites, it's so beautiful!"

"It is beautiful indeed. And it... spoke to my heart in the same way poems do."

Catherine nodded her understanding. She recalled the words of the song and could imagine Vincent walking alone 'in restless dreams' in the cold dark streets, fleeing the crude light of neons, and feeling himself surrounded by 'ten thousand people maybe more' he could neither reach at or talk to. She knew he often sought out the sound of silence down in the deepest, darkest tunnels. Vincent was one 'Acquainted with the night'... Maybe a bit too much so!

"Darkness," Vincent went on, his voice very low "has been my lifetime companion. But I never could consider it as a ... friend..."

Catherine stopped walking and turned to face him, looking deep into his tormented eyes. "Maybe it's not as much your enemy as you think it is, either."

"Catherine! You don't know... how can you say.." he started, but she stopped his protest by laying her fingers on his mouth.

"Sshh! I'll say no more, but please promise me you'll think about it."

He silently nodded, stunned as much by the contact of her hand on his face as by her outrageous statement. Both filled him with awe, and at the same time evoked thrilling, almost unthinkable possibilities.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Catherine was smiling inwardly. One more little step, one more seed sown. Time and patience...

They stopped in front of her chamber's door and she looked up at him. "Thank you, Vincent, it was a truly wonderful evening!"

"Thank you, Catherine! The concert wouldn't have been the same for me without the pleasure of your company."

She simply nodded, and they looked at each other, both unwilling to part on those polite words but neither daring to initiate anything more. Vincent finally averted his eyes.

"It's late, Catherine, you should rest, now."

She smiled. "If I can!" Taking Vincent's hand, she put it on her stomach. "The Little One is waking up. He might not agree to going back to sleep so soon. Sometimes I wish we were better synchronized. He always sleeps when I walk, and starts dancing as soon as I lie down to rest!"

Vincent chuckled softly as he sensed the enthusiastic movements under his palm. He felt at ease now with that touch, though it hadn't always been that way. They'd been together the very first time Catherine had felt the baby move, and in her joy she had grabbed his hand to make him feel it, too. Vincent had been so utterly shocked by that intimate contact that he'd almost pulled away. And then he had felt it. No more than a tiny flutter under his hand, but it had resounded deep into his soul, filling him with an elation that matched Catherine's. Life was truly a miracle!

Vincent could understand Catherine needed to share that joy with someone, and he was glad it had been him, but there was one thing that troubled him deeply, one thing he hadn't told her or anyone else. When he touched her that way, and sometimes, lately, even when he didn't, he could feel the baby, and not with his hand. He could feel it in his heart! A first slight, elusive presence that had gained in strength over the weeks, a tiny heartbeat alongside his own. He and the child seemed to be connected in some mysterious way! How could that be?

As it happened almost every time he felt the baby turn around to seek closer contact with his hand, and the movements stopped as a faint wave of hazy, unfocused contentment reached him. Catherine giggled. "It worked again! Your hands are magical, Vincent!"

He lowered his gaze, unable to stand her eyes. How would she react if she knew? It would probably scare her. It scared him! "You should go and sleep, now, Catherine." he said softly.

She sighed and nodded."Yes." She turned to go but changed her mind and came back to hug him tenderly, laying her head on his shoulder for a second. "Good night Vincent!" Before he had time to react, she had disappeared into her chamber.

Vincent remained there for a while, stunned, his whole body still tingling with the warmth of her embrace. He felt both relieved and frustrated by its briefness, contradictory impulses fighting inside him. He wanted to run and hide somewhere dark and far away...he wanted to follow Catherine into the chamber, take her in his arms and never let her go!

He shook his head with a sigh. What came over him? Catherine's move, if unexpected, deserved neither of those extreme reactions. She had only been thanking him for a nice evening. A hug... was just a hug. Catherine hugged many other people Below, and so did he, so why couldn't they hug each other?

"Good night, Catherine." he whispered to the closed curtain, and started toward his chamber, doing his best not to listen to the small inner voice telling him that an embrace from Catherine wasn't, could never be 'just a hug' for him.