Violet
Saturday night
‘We thought we’d drive down and check you were all okay,’ said her mum, holding her out at arm’s length and giving her an appraising eye. ‘We knew you’d all probably still be in shock after what happened to Marv.’
‘Dev’s been filling us in on his progress,’ said her father, pulling out a chair and encouraging her to take a seat. ‘It sounds as though he’s through the worst, which is reassuring.’
‘Oh, it’s just a few little bits,’ her mum said, waving her hand in a dismissive gesture. ‘Something for Marv too. More of a get well soon present than a Christmas thing. Although I did get you all a selection box each.’
‘They were reduced,’ said her dad cheerfully as he picked up his car keys. ‘So, your mother’s bought about thirty of them. She thought maybe you could take some of them into the hospital for the team looking after Marv too?’
Dev’s face started to crumple. ‘That’s so kind of you, Sue,’ he said, gulping hard. ‘So thoughtful.’
Violet watched as her mum put an arm around Dev’s shoulders and he began to cry.
She knew he would be thinking of his parents, making a comparison.
She wondered whether he’d even told them about his ‘friend’ being assaulted.
Despite the fact that Dev had tried to come out to his family four years ago, neither of his parents had really accepted that their son was gay and his mother continued to live in hope that Dev would eventually settle down and marry Violet.
‘After all, you are already living together, she had said with a frown a few months ago, ‘and she is a doctor’– as if Violet’s profession sealed the deal.
Violet knew that Dev’s parents loved him dearly– and Dev knew this too, deep down– but she could well imagine the level of mental gymnastics required to have a conversation about the precarious physical health of his boyfriend without actually referring to him as a boyfriend; it would put Dev off at the best of times– and this was not the best of times.
He might have decided it was simply easier to not involve his parents in the discussion at all.
She wondered for a moment what this must feel like– the constant strain of maintaining a facade that neither he nor his parents truly believed in– and was just thinking herself extremely fortunate for her family’s policy of honesty and tolerance before she remembered that she was in fact already acting in a charade of her own making, the role of happy and fulfilled doctor.
Not being very good at pretending didn’t stop her from trying it occasionally.
She wasn’t sure she fully believed in Dev’s ‘fake it until you make it’ theory– objectively there was no logical reason that it would work.
But she knew it was a popular concept– something that everyone seemed to bang on about– and in the absence of any obvious harms it was sometimes worth a try.
Especially when there was a good reason to appear convincing.
It occurred to her that even the most open families sometimes harboured hidden secrets, with both parents and children finding themselves playing fabricated characters entirely at odds with their real selves.
This struck her as disappointing, particularly given her own insistence on honesty and integrity– if being true to herself was so important then why on earth wasn’t she capable of doing exactly this with those who loved her best?
Maybe it was because they loved her so much– the burden of their disappointment would lie far heavier upon her than the opinions of almost anyone else.
Or maybe it was simply that she wasn’t as brave as she thought.
Violet alluded to this inner conflict later that evening at Gus’s flat.
She had come round at six so that he could cook supper for her as planned before they both went back to work for their penultimate night shift, and she was gratified to see him looking so happy when he opened the door and ushered her inside.
The flat was warm and welcoming after the frankly aggressive hail outside and as Gus took her coat and hung it over the radiator she was surprised by how quickly all this had begun to feel normal– if being so pleased to see someone could ever be considered normal.
‘I’ve just seen my parents,’ she said as she set the table. ‘They brought us a whole heap of groceries and presents, including things for Marv and the surgical team. Dev’s just taken two carrier bags full of selection boxes up to ward twenty.’
‘God, that’s nice of them,’ said Gus, carrying over a basket of crusty bread and some green beans.
‘I know,’ she said. ‘Feel like a bit of a bitch for implying that they neglected me in my youth now– all that “TV dinners, latch-key kid” stuff I told you yesterday. Maybe I was underplaying just how thoughtful and kind and selfless they really are.’
‘No, you made it absolutely clear how much you love them, Violet, don’t worry– I don’t think you’re a spoilt brat.’
‘Thank you,’ she said, kissing him on the cheek as he leaned across the table.
‘Mmmm,’ he said, kissing her back, this time on the mouth. ‘You smell lovely.’
‘Supper smells lovely.’ She smiled as he held her gaze. ‘What did you cook in the end?’
He drew apart from her and went to the oven, bringing out a large earthenware casserole dish which he brought back to the table.
‘Goulash,’ he said, lifting the lid with a flourish.
‘Well, strictly speaking, paprikash. It’s my dad’s recipe although Mum put her own English slant on it.
You’re not the only one who has spoken to their parents today. ’
‘Oh, is that right?’ she said. ‘God, that really does smell amazing.’ She breathed in the fragrant steam billowing from the open dish. ‘I’m ravenous all of a sudden.’
‘It’s lamb,’ he said, ladling out a hefty portion. ‘You said you liked lamb?’
She nodded, touched as she recalled him making a note of all her various dietary preferences earlier that day when he’d been planning what to cook.
‘And peppers, potato, paprika, bit of chilli,’ he said, dishing out his own portion.
‘It’s dead easy but really nice to have on a winter evening.
’ He sat down and tore a piece of bread from the loaf.
‘You can just dig in– it doesn’t need to be eaten with any decorum,’ he said, dunking the bread directly into the stew.
‘Excellent.’ Violet copied him, soaking up the thick sauce with a chunk of bread and taking such a huge bite that a bit of it dribbled down her chin.
She mopped her face with the napkin as Gus laughed.
‘Consider all decorum well and truly abandoned,’ she said once she’d swallowed her mouthful.
‘But it is absolutely delicious. Did you get the recipe from your dad? Is that the reason you called him?’
‘Yes.’ Gus poured her out a glass of water. ‘It was a nice excuse to call him. We don’t tend to do “chit-chat” on the phone. There needs to be some actual reason to speak to each other, information exchange.’
‘I’m a bit like that,’ said Violet. ‘No good at small talk, on the phone or off it.’
‘Well, you’d get on with my dad then,’ said Gus. ‘He is a man of very few words– you’d probably have terribly efficient conversations, no extraneous detail, just transfer of key data.’
‘Sounds perfect.’
He smiled at her. ‘So, yeah, I knew the recipe really, I’ve cooked my own version a lot in the past, but it was nice to be reminded.’ He looked shy for a moment. ‘And to tell him about who I was cooking for.’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘Did you tell him it was me? As in, not Amelia?’
He nodded, ‘I did. I told Mum as well. I phoned her first, obviously. She’d be livid if she thought Dad had found out before her.’
‘Did you tell them that you and Amelia… that you’re not… together any longer?’
‘I did.’
‘Did you tell them how long it’s been?’
‘I did,’ he said. ‘And strangely, Mum wasn’t that surprised.
I thought I’d been doing this fantastic job of keeping it all a secret, plodding on thinking nobody had noticed I was no longer engaged.
In reality I think she’s known all along.
They sometimes surprise you. Parents. I suppose maybe she’s got experience of broken relationships.
She can maybe spot the downward spiral before it’s become really obvious. ’
‘Or maybe you’re not that good at lying?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘That’s where you’re wrong.
I am good at lying. I’m very good at lying to myself and I’m supremely gifted at pretending everything is alright when in reality it’s falling apart.
’ He smiled ruefully as he helped himself to another portion and Violet felt a brief flicker of concern at his open admission of dishonesty.
Wasn’t this exactly the character trait she sought to avoid?
But then, him talking like this was proof that he was being honest with her, wasn’t it ?
It all seemed a bit too confusing to dig into now.
‘Anyway,’ Gus continued. ‘She was very excited to hear about you.’
‘Really?’ Violet wasn’t sure how she felt about this and her face, as usual, gave her away.
‘I hope she doesn’t end up disappointed.
’ In her experience, meeting new people seemed to often involve high expectations, ones that she inevitably didn’t match up to.
She hoped that Gus hadn’t over-sold her.
Although maybe he wasn’t ever intending them to meet.
She’d probably overreacted; likely he’d just said he was cooking dinner for a colleague and…
She looked at his face, his smile had dropped a little. ‘I’ve said the wrong thing again, haven’t I?’ Her response was reflexive. Generally if someone looked downbeat during a conversation with her it was because she’d screwed up.