Violet
By the time she waved her mum off in the car it was pitch dark and there was already a sparkling frost on the pavements. ‘Drive carefully,’ she said. ‘It’s icy. I’ll phone Dad, let him know you’re on your way.’
‘Seems reasonable,’ she said. ‘And while I don’t want to know what you’ll be up to with Marvin as I’m getting myself party-ready, I would remind you there are some activities he definitely should not be getting up to in his post-operative state, newly engaged or not.
’ She pulled a disapproving face and he laughed.
‘It feels wrong to be so deliriously happy when you’re feeling tragic, darling,’ he said, suddenly sad.
‘No tragedy,’ she said, smiling. ‘I’m the cat who walks by herself, remember?’
Dev nodded but she could tell he wasn’t fooled.
She hadn’t even really managed to convince herself.
The truth was she missed Gus like a physical pain.
The removal of her other burdens– no longer having to worry about the complaints at work, not having to lie to her parents, and having a more realistic standard to compare herself to since the conversation with her mother earlier– all served to highlight her heaviest sorrow.
She knew that time would heal the pain but right now she wondered if she could ever be happy again.
She wanted to feel the way that only Gus could make her feel. It was as simple as that.
* * *
Nearing midnight and a few vodka cocktails later, she was feeling better.
She had fished out her tiniest dress to keep Dev happy (although she had topped it with her cardigan and a pair of old Doc Marten boots for comfort) and she was deep in conversation with Nigel, the owner of Rainbow Punters.
Over a heavy baseline from the decks in the sitting room they were discussing the possibility of a care home tour, using Madame Marvelarse’s drag bedtime story as the basis of a routine to entertain OAPs.
She told Nigel about her grandmother’s dementia and Mr Zeller’s loneliness, and how she thought a cabaret-style performance might work well.
Nigel told her he’d give it some serious thought.
‘My father had dementia before he died,’ he said, opening another can of lager as Boo Tee Licious (aka Brendan Tompkins) shimmied into their eyeline.
‘Oh– you could do it sort of in his memory then?’ said Violet, pleased.
Nigel snorted his lager out of his nose ‘No way would it be in that old bastard’s memory,’ he said laughing.
‘He’s the one who made me feel like a freak when I came out, beat me senseless and then kicked me out the house.
No, me running a drag event to entertain people with dementia would be the perfect way to spite him. I love it.’
Just then Dev walked past, staggering under a crate of beer that someone had brought. He dropped it onto the kitchen work-top with a thud as the doorbell went. ‘Ooh, can you get that, babes?’ he said to Violet. ‘It’ll be Lindsay Low-Slung. She said she’d be late.’
Violet planted a kiss on his forehead and swaying slightly, carried her cocktail out into the hall, almost tripping over a large pair of angel wings that had been discarded at the foot of the stairs.
She opened the front door. ‘Welcome, Lindsay!’ she said, raising her plastic cup in the air– and then paused. ‘Oh!’ she said. ‘It’s you!’
Gus was wearing a jumper and jeans. His converse boots were already soaked through and he was shivering slightly as he stood on the doorstep.
‘I was expecting a six-foot-four bearded woman wearing hotpants,’ said Violet accusatively, her heart suddenly hammering in her chest.
‘Sorry to disappoint.’ He held his hands up in apology. ‘I had to come,’ he said. ‘I had to see you.’
‘Why?’
‘Because. I– I’ve been a total dick,’ he stammered.
‘Yes.’ She leaned against the doorframe for support.
‘And I don’t know what I was thinking,’ he said.
‘Right.’
‘And I’m terrified I might have completely blown it.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘I’ve told Amelia it’s all over,’ he said, battling on.
‘Definitely. Well and truly. You were right. I deserve better. And you definitely do– far better than someone who can’t see what’s right in front of their face.
I got home this morning and asked her to leave– like, immediately.
I was ruthless, completely brutal.’ He shuffled his feet in the wet sludge on the doorstep.
‘Well, I mean, I wasn’t really brutal– you know me– but anyway, you’d have been astonished by my lack of people-pleasing.
And then after she’d gone– the cactus– I saw it on the table.
I just knew it was from you and I– well– I saw it.
I smiled. And then I started crying and I couldn’t stop. ’
‘Gosh. That sounds traumatic.’ She folded her arms across her chest.
‘I know you’re pissed off,’ he said. ‘And you have every right to be. I was so busy trying to do the right thing, and generally being weak-willed and needy, that I ended up doing the wrong thing. I hurt you, which is unforgivable– and I also very nearly leapt straight back into a disastrous relationship just because it seemed like the easiest option.’
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You did.’
‘And I know you probably can’t forgive me.
And I realise that this is probably some essential part of the Violet code of practice, and having failed the test I’m now relegated to a tiny, insignificant chapter in you history, but I had to see you.
To let you know that I’ve been brave and decisive for a change.
And that it was you who helped me get there.
You made me realise that the path of least resistance isn’t necessarily the best one. ’
‘I’m glad to hear you’ve got something positive out of the experience,’ she said, trying to make it sound like she didn’t really care.
‘Violet,’ he said, his voice cracking, his hands open.
‘Please– I– I don’t know how to explain this properly.
’ He looked so earnest, shuffling about in the cold.
She loved the way his expression and mannerisms were so easy for her to read.
It was a real novelty to feel like she knew what someone else was thinking without having to break down the component parts of their body language and intonation.
But she was still hurting. He might be easy to read but he had lied to her, successfully, and this made her mistrustful of her own reactions.
She stayed silent, arms still folded across her chest. But she didn’t shut the door on him.
There was a part of her that was curious to hear what he had to say, and a part of her that just wanted to see him and be around him again.
‘I don’t know if there’s anything I can do.’ His voice sounded a bit desperate now– or maybe it was just the cold; he did seem to be shivering slightly. ‘Just tell me. Can I– do I get a chance to make it up to you?’
‘You lied to me,’ she said, aware that the hurt was now evident in her voice. ‘You said you were over her a few nights ago. You swore blind that was the case. But it wasn’t. You lied. Charming men always lie. Always, always, always .’
‘I thought I was telling the truth.’ He looked wretched but then took a deep breath.
‘No. That’s not right. I knew– there was a tiny part of me that doubted it but I couldn’t tell you about that doubt because I thought you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.
It was wrong. It was selfish. I was an idiot. ’
‘You were,’ she said. ‘Truth is the only thing that matters.’
‘And I guess,’ he said, taking another deep breath, ‘if I’m being really honest, there was a part of me that felt like maybe you didn’t want me, that you didn’t feel the same way I was feeling.
I thought perhaps it was just a short-term thing for you.
You said before that that’s how you tend to operate– nothing heavy.
And I didn’t necessarily want anything heavy, but I wanted to mean more to you than the others had– it’s just my narcissistic side.
’ He sighed and his breath clouded in the freezing air.
‘I’m not proud of this by the way, my neediness and clinginess and general lack of moral fibre.
But in the spirit of full disclosure I’m telling you everything– warts and all.
There’s nobody else I’d be this open with.
These are parts of my personality that I don’t especially like.
But as I’ve said before, there’s something about you that sends me into full confessional mode.
You’re a bit like a therapist. Or a priest.’
She snorted a laugh in spite of herself.
‘And then,’ he continued, ‘when I spoke to Dev and Marvin just before I left the hospital, they made me think that perhaps I’d got it wrong– that maybe you did care for me and maybe I did mean more to you than…
’ He shook his head. ‘Christ, I’m really screwing this up, aren’t I?
Making it all about me. I’ve got to rein it in a bit. This is in absolute bloody shambles.’
‘It’s not one of your most polished performances,’ she said.
‘You’re not wrong.’ He took a deep breath.
Tiny flakes of snow had begun to drift down from the inky sky, settling on his shoulders.
‘Okay. So here we are then,’ he said. ‘I’m going to give you the absolute definitive truth, the facts and figures.
The hard evidence. And then you can make a decision. Will you let me do that?’
She nodded and uncrossed her arms to show him she was listening.