The story of a shrinking Violet

Here our story is of a broken heart, the tale isn't as simple as it seems, when does love flow smoothly after all? When lost and broken, without a light, how do you rediscover your life?

She was sat at a small table in the darkest corner of a pub which she had forgotten the name of, the fork in her hand was mindlessly pushing and scraping the food of her plate into different locations with a mind piercing screech of metal on china. Watching her from a distance, the barman contorted his face unpleasantly as the fork dragged a slice of mozzarella cheese to the other side of the plate, meeting a seeded and toasted slice of bread,
“I wonder what is in her head?” the barman spoke softly, sounding as far away as she looked, “What’s that boss?” A young familiar voice asked, “Huh?” The barman reacted, unaware that somebody was standing within ear shot, “Oh nothing Tommy, could you start cleaning the-, he broke off, having spotted the mop bucket Tommy was holding, “Thanks Tom.” The young man who looked like an old teenager smiled as he left the bar, “Oh Tommy!?”
“What is it?” Tommy turned, hearing the urgency in his boss’s voice, “after that could you nip round next door and ask my Mrs to pop in, if she asks why, I’ve got a funny feeling, Cheers Tom.” The barman always used a short version of a person’s name when he was worried or serious, “Course I can, Tommy said smiling, “you and your feelings.”
Unaware that the barman had resumed his staring at her, she lifted her fork to her mouth; in any place on dry land you could find a nice bar or a restaurant that produced hearty homemade food that would comfort the harshest emotions from the heart. Even in a new village such as this, Violetta always managed to find a nice place to indulge her taste buds just as they were imagining their next indulgence. Biting down on a cherry tomato that had been given a fancy-fantangled name. The surprise unmistakeably passed across her face, unaware that she’d placed one of these tomatoes on her fork, but how could you forget what you'd put on your fork? The tomato juices burst out, half the juice sweetly tingling the taste buds, the other half running softening the bread. She was pleased as the bread could sometimes be too coarse, often scarring the top of the mouth in an uncomfortable fashion. She scooped an extra bit of mozzarella into her mouth, mozzarella being a pleasant, but largely neutral taste could sometimes be overpowered by the other flavours competing for supreme tastual dominance.
Over behind the bar, the barman’s wife hadn’t popped round, meaning Tommy was still cleaning the loos, Tommy had only been gone five minutes the barman had lost his sense of time while staring at this women he couldn’t quite figure out. As the manager of a bar, he had spent a lot of time listening to people’s problems as well as their issues. However, for as much customers who did talk, there was an equal amount of cliental who didn’t want to speak. Now for these quiet customers, watching how they behaved and moved could reveal an awful lot about what was going on inside their head, which allowed the barman as an observer to intelligently guess what was going on in the customer’s life. However, this women was one of the few customers he couldn't figure out,
Walking towards her table, he said “How’s it all going, got everything you need?” his voice was firm but kind. After a moment or two she looked up and a moment later startled expression grew on her face, "Huh?” Her voice was tired, and just a little confused, “Your meal? How is it?”
“Oh, it’s nice, it’s great” She said, sounding like she was asking a question rather than answering one. The food was actually very nice now that she thought about it, “Do you need anything?” He asked, “Umm… her voice lingered, lost in her mouth unable to find a sound to lead with, “Maybe a glass of wine?” She asked again uncertainly. She wasn’t fully paying attention as he said, “Your wines over her.” He said gesturing to her almost full glass of red wine on the table, “Thank you, quick service here” She said with an impressed giggle. The barman thought she was joking, until he caught the dulled look in her eyes, they weren’t as bright as pretty pair of eyes were. Her eyes weren’t as perky or awake as the happy picture her voice painted, they weren’t jumping out into life as much as they were fading, recoiling from the world. He simply smiled and left her too her meal, but he was now more certain that something in her life wasn’t right, it felt to him as if something was very wrong indeed. Yet he still, had no idea what it could be, nor had she shown any inclination to talk about it.
Seeing the world and the life of the bar around her, she realised she didn’t remember what the bar first looked like when she had sat down. Of course her eyes had been open when she had ventured in, but she hadn’t really noticed any of it, not the people sitting down, nor the colours of the walls. Her mind was too full of everything else she’d encountered along her path that currently her life. ‘How had it gone so wrong?’ she thought herself, her relationship of over two years had come to an end… by her own choice and it had been the right choice. She’d gone over the choices, she'd analysed the situation again and again in her mind, and time and again found herself back at the same choice. Their futures were different; it was as simple and as complicated as that. Although their lives were similar right now, at some point they would turn into two very different paths, one would have to give up or change the image they had for their future. Violetta couldn’t give up the life she wanted, the only life she’d get, and could she ask another that she cared for, that she loved so deeply, so profoundly. She couldn’t be the one who asks another to give up the life they want. How could she possibly live her life happily knowing that someone else was not going to try to achieve their dreams and goals simply because you asked, had told them not too?
Ask that would never be right in her mind and with all this, that was the truth she knew, she was certain of, but something was following her, like a backing song to a movie, this song was an empty song, a song that felt sad, lost and it was trying to keep itself together while finding its way out of a dark tangle of mess which was encompassed it from every side, as a grand maze.
The waiter came over and took her empty plate, “How’s the wine?” He asked pleasantly gesturing to her full glass, she smiled, she wasn’t exactly sure why she smiled the waiter wasn’t overly attractive or anything such as that, but she did enjoy the smile all the same. She laughed slightly, “I haven’t got round to trying it yet, I’m afraid I haven’t been paying much attention” She said unsure of how long ago it was that the barman had popped over. She picked up her glass of wine as the waiter walked off; she forced her eyes to look at the waiters rears end. A wave of guilt rose and then bobbed through her emotional waters; she also felt a pang of disappointment in either a saggy bottom or a loose pair of trousers. And then something different happened, a small pale faced lady with a soft kind face walked into the bar, it was the kindly face of a women who had been a good mother. Her small legs walked over to the bar, her dark smart shoes echoed like a drum in a museum hall, as the barman met her with the gentle kiss of a spouse, her red cheeks flushed, possibily from the cold wind that had been growing in the upcoming months to winter of course. She wore a floral blouse, mainly bluey-greens with splashes of cream dotted about, it somehow matched her smart light pink jacket and skirt.
Her thunderous footsteps stopped in conversation with her husband, while Violetta was thinking, ‘heavy-footed’ didn’t come close to describing this women, and with an amused sigh her gaze continued from her dark corner of the pub, again not so much seeing any part of the view, merely looking in that general direction. She was thinking about the wave of guilt she experienced over the waiters bottom, surely feeling guilt was normal? She mused to herself, she didn't have an other-half anymore and thus no reason to feel the guilt over looking at the bottom of another man, “oh now that’s a look I recognise” a kind voice said. Violetta looked up startled, fear showing in her eyes as her thoughts were private just for her, Violetta opened her mouth, thinking of something to say, “Mind if I take a seat?” She chirped “Um…sure” Violetta said before thinking. The red face lady with the charming white curly hair was already pulling out a seat for herself before Violetta answered giving her the distinct feeling that saying ‘yes I mind, go away’ wasn’t really an option.
The elderly lady stretched out her feet, making herself comfortable in this oddly dark corner of the her husbands’ pub, perhaps she’d have a word with him about it later,
“Excuse me?
“Sorry? Oh, a small laugh came from her happy face, “I was lost in my thinkings” The lady carried on smiling. Violetta smiled in return, “I’m not meaning to sound rude, but why have you sat down at my table when there are plenty of tables free?” Violetta asked in a simply curious way, no offense was intended or taken, “What’s your name, if you don’t mind me asking?” Violetta asked curiosly once again. The lady smiled a kind smile, “my names Cathy, She said pleasantly, “and you dear?” She gave the youngish & exhausted looking woman an expectant look. She froze for a second, “Huh? Oh my names Violetta.” This lady called, ‘Cathy’ looked impressed, “Violetta, she said proudly, “a very pretty name.” Cathy took a long slow sip of the red wine she’d brought over with her, “Lovely wine isn’t it?” Violetta, looked down at her red wine once again, she wasn’t sure if it was her second or first glass, “It is nice wine, Violetta said, “Yes, it’s pleasant but…” Violetta said drifting off into a loss of thoughts,
“It’s got a bit of a kick, hasn’t it.” Cathy said, “Exactly!” Violetta exclaimed all of a sudden she realised she was excited, in fact she realised she was laughing!
To Violetta it felt like an incredibly long time, now that she realised how a sad, forced smile felt like in comparison to a happy, smile in this moment with a stranger, a stranger she honestly didn’t want at her table. How ironic life could be, “What’s the expression for?” Cathy asked her with the voice of a concerned parent, “Sorry?” Violetta asked in confusion, “The lost & distracted expression on your face. What’s shaking you?” Cathy asked while taking another sip from her wine. Violetta laughed mournfully, much to Cathy’s consternation, “Just, remembering what it’s like to smile, to laugh” Violetta shook her head in a ‘can you believe it’ fashion. Cathy was thinking about her husband, the owner of the pub who had said there was something about this women he couldn’t put his finger on, and in truth, Cathy was just beginning to see what he meant.
Cathy was quiet for a while, the distinct look of a person deep in thought. Cathy looked at Violetta and very simply asked, “what is it like?” but the question stunned Violetta into complete silence & all she was left with was a wounded, dumb-founded look on her face. Violetta, simply hadn’t planned for that question to be asked, “Wasn’t really expecting that one.” Violetta murmured indistinctly,
“That a shame my dear” Cathy said sympathetically,
“Huh, oh I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” Cathy laughed at this, “Well, now that I’ve asked, she said happily, “what would you say?”
Violetta just sat there, here was somebody, a stranger no less, asking her a question that she deeply, almost desperately wanted to answer. And now? Now that she was in a village that no one knew her, now she could say anything, what would she say?
“It’s quite a… well, I figure it’s nice to have a reason, a cause to smile is all.” Violetta said plain and simply but she also said it with meaning. She said it too seriously to be a comment made in the jest of the moment, Cathy had a sad look on her face, “it takes an awfully brave person to say such a true thing. I see courage in you" Cathy said.
“Ha!” Violetta burst out a flash of laughter like a deep note in a high pitched song, “Sorry, Violetta corrected quickly, composing herself, “it’s just-”
“It’s alright dear, you don’t have to be defensive here.” Violetta laughed quietly to herself, lowering her head she wondered why the emotions behind her face were reacting as intensely as they were to a sentence as simple such as this?
Her head, still lowered as if bowed in prayer, she felt a tear roll down her check, she didn’t wipe it off, if she did Cathy would know something was wrong. Although keeping her head lowered for this long must’ve been a bit werid. Her feelings were still a jumble of mess, she had no idea what to say that could explain herself, “I’m sorry!” Violetta said swinging her head back wildly finally giving into the urge to wipe away the stray tear from her stained check, “it’s just…” and as soon as Violetta said this, she knew she had no idea what to say.
As Violetta felt a horrible, empty feeling rising inside of her. Cathy, from across the table, taking a nice lengthy sip of wine said, “why don’t you tell me what’s going on, what’s really going on I mean.” it was said in a no nonsense tone, the expression of a mother once again.
As much as she didn’t want to go in the details, she also didn’t want to fight with this women, she could have done, but, to put it simply she just didn’t have the strength right now,
“We broke up… I broke up with him.” Cathy nodded, asking “You and your boyfriend?”
“Yes.” Violetta confirmed, thinking with no success of what to say next,
“Why?” Cathy asked simply & directly.
“Our futures were different, to put a longer story short.” Violetta said, taking a gulp of wine, “How about you tell me the long story now?” Cathy asked with a pleasant smile pleastered to her face, Violetta resisted the urge to roll her eyes, “Kids, she finally spoke, “he didn’t want children. Cathy looked at her expecting more, “I said it was longer not long.”
“He didn’t want kids?” Cathy said, “He doesn’t- he’s never wanted them.” Violetta said, Cathy’s face lit up with recognition at this point, “And I’m betting you want kids with someone who want to, rather than with someone who is just willing to have kids. After a short pause, "you can’t compromise on that. Cathy said conclusively while Violetta nodded along, “Is that the only reason?” Cathy asked, “Well yes, but” Violetta stopped,
“But let me guess, Cathy continued, “There’s more reason as to why it wasn’t right, right?”
“Well yes but little reasons, Violetta said giving in to Cathy’s probing, “the little things barely matter they’re tiny.” Violetta stated more trying to convince herself.
“Really my dear? Cathy began, “I’m not going to pretend to know you, if someone or something is short of stature, well that’s normally fairly easy to see but does that mean that ‘thing’ doesn’t matter? Just because its small?
Annoyingly Cathy did have a genuine point, atleast on some level, but that was the hard part because Violetta knew this. It’s one thing to avoid your own thoughts that you fear, but to avoid something you just heard is much harder. As she sat drinking her wine she thought back to before the break up, but to when the life she’d began to make for herself still made sense,
“What was his name?” A distant voice asked,
“Hmm? Oh his name’s Nick.” Violetta replied returning her focus to her thoughts. He used to shut down without warning, attempts to help pushed him further away while ignoring him made him angry and therefore everything got worse. Also, he held certain opinions that were fixed, Violetta would listen and consider anything, any idea, T.V show, anybody got atleast one chance and most things got two with Violetta but Nick? Oh no, not with Nick. Nick used to say that certain ‘types’ of people would always be the same, and rarely would he try something new, new things were quite terrifying and of course, out of the question. The problem with these things, was that they severely limited what could be done, where they could go on dates.
For Violetta, being as easy-going as she was, nothing was ever a problem, well nothing normally bothered her enough to make a problem out of it, and then here was a man who shot down all her ideas, suggesting none in return other than silence with Violetta feeling deflated and in all honesty wondering why she bothered in the first place. She had found herself frequently contemplating giving up, ‘if he could do it why couldn’t i?’ She would think to herself. But what always made Violetta laugh was that she was a women of amazing resilience…
…once upon a time anyway.
If she wasn't as strong and she given up on the relationship it would have fallen to pieces like bricks, teterring in the wind. She laughed, she'd brought herself back from the brink of giving up so many times, purely for the good of the relationship, almost like a solider reviving himself on the field of battle, just to have it end in the sameway. From across the table, “You… look, Cathy began to say as Violetta drifted out of her dreamy gaze, “just a hundred miles away.”
“Only a hundred? Violetta said perking up, “just thinking, about the past and stuff. After a pause Violetta said, “Its peculiar how looking back at something can change how it happened, of course it doesn’t change but the memory isn’t the same as the actual event. In which case, which is true, the event or the memory of the event?” Violetta asked Cathy as a smile slowly emerged from the confounded look growing on Cathy's, “Oh Violetta, it sounds like… you’re thinking to much” Cathy said with a soft smile and a slight shake of her head,
“No it true, Violetta protested, memories get distorted by time as well as emotions… how do you-”
“It’s about how you feel sweetheart, it always comes down to a simple question, Cathy said extending a hand, “you simply need to ask yourself, ‘does it feel right?’ and sweetie… Sometimes what feels right, doesn’t always feel good my dear” Cathy said. All she had said was the truth, but it hit Violetta. As she sat there, the words becoming meanings and definitions in her head, her head worked out what had been said and what it meant for Violetta in relation to her life. She felt such a sadness rising within her.
Cathy picked up her glass of wine, “Oh do have a drink dear” Violetta picked up her glass of wine and took a nice long sip, “I think I know what’s going through your head and I’ve got something to say that you need to hear. We all have choices through our lives, choices can change. Best friends, Your favourite colour, the laundry detergent you use, where you want to work or even where you want to live. Decisions however are things which can’t change, we make our choice and then we must carry on living. We can of course spend time thinking about these choices, but to spend all your time in the past, thinking. You’d miss all your opportunities in the present, around you, today. My dear I won’t pretend to know you too well, but I do think you need to get some rest a start fresh, tomorrow. Just take some time to put certain things down, let other things go, you know? Violetta nodded at Cathy’s kind words, just hearing it, the very idea of letting some of her thoughts free felt... she felt a small smile inside her. “There's a B&B next door sweetie, why don’t you come and take a look, maybe get some rest?” Cathy’s kind words really meant a lot to Violetta, the kindness was very touching.
Violetta another long sip of her wine, “Ok Cathy, show me the room.” Violetta said wearily, she was actually quite tired now that she thought about it. Cathy took Violetta kindly by the arm and together they made the short walk to her cozy pretty little B&B next door.
Violetta stayed in a pretty room with white walls and a white carpet, a light pink rug with funishings to match. Pictures of landscapes hung on the walls. They were very nice paintings, very pleasant to look upon, however they were no match for the view out of the bay window on the outer wall of the room. While on the outer side of the window sat a small hill, with a wave of rolling hills behind it, a small lush, dark green forest stretched over the main part of the hill reaching up to a quaint folly at the top of this hill. Violetta was reminded of a gazebo, the kind of gazebo that had been in her garden when she was a young girl in Italy, she felt joy, the smiles and the laughter of her family back from the depths of her mind. In front of this view was a fresh bouquet of flowers in a charming vase, they smelt warm and inviting, like fresh life was seeping into the room.
Once Violetta had settled comfortably into her bed, after a hot soapy bath, which had warmed and rejuvenated Violettas skin delightfully, Cathy brought in a nice mug of hot chocolate with little marshmallow’s floating on the surface, bopping like happy little apples. Her bed was warm and fluffly, the bath and the hot chocolate, she felt quite hot indeed. Her mattress was soft and safe, meaning she had a smile on her face. In around eight hours’ time, when Violetta wakes up in the new morning, she’ll see the sun poking through the flowers in the vase and she'll notice all the little joys of the world, the new opportunities she didn’t notice through her tear stained eyes.
From time to time she still looks back and thinks of her decision and feels bad, however, everytime she does, she will also feel that it was right and that feeling, that knowing, will make it possible for her to carry on the challenge of life.