Beach House

A woman who is undecided about her future.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

BEACH HOUSE

 

How many nights was it since he had been gone? The woman had lost count. Now there was no reason for her to stay in that house, however, neither did she have any reason to move. How many ties had been cut to go and live with him? Meanwhile she waited for him to return. She was alone with the sea, the cat, and the house. She had touched nothing, everything was just as he had left it. The small living-room with the chess set with the pieces still halfway through a game. The pale blue dressing-gown he used every morning was still hanging on the bathroom door. The beer in the fridge that she would never drink were his. She thought to herself that she would have to throw out a lot of things before leaving. But where could she go? Return? She had nowhere to return to, then she would have to go forward, but in what direction? Did it matter? She had broken off all her old contacts and now she was alone. Can you or can you not live on memories? She got to thinking about the memories she had of him, of the two of them together, and if she added up the hours, the days, all of that didn’t form a very large percentage of her life only a small part. Depending on the intensity that a person lives, also depends how they see the passing of time. One day is like a month and a month is like a year.

The woman felt the need to be out in the open air, and left the house. She walked through a small paved garden where the plants had a struggle to survive in the beach atmosphere, and made her way towards the dried up trunk of a tree and sat down looking at the sea. Winter had begun a short time before but it didn’t matter to her, she would still have felt the lack of colour and the lack of warmth. The lack of him. She didn’t know how long she sat there, but suddenly felt the cold of the sea breeze and decided to return to the house. After a frugal dinner the lonely woman went up to the terrace where they used to sit on the hottest days. The neighbouring houses were empty, as the owners were city people they had already left, and there was an enormous beach, without people, with nothing. Only the woman, the sea, the cat, and the house were left.

Corinne didn’t go to cafes often but one spring afternoon she felt like going out. Life had never been difficult or hard for her more like the opposite. Corinne suffered from an illness common in women of a certain age with everything solved. Their youth behind them and old age still a good distance away. Corinne was just plain bored. The desire to go out alone had been coming on for a while as she felt no satisfaction in her daily life that she had been living out for sixteen years. Her friends did nothing else but gossip and play cards. Bit by bit Corinne realized she didn’t want to get into a rut, but how could she get out?

The café was full and Corinne had no other solution than to sit at the table where someone was already sitting. She asked permission if she could sit there but he didn’t even raise his eyes from his sketching pad. Corinne ordered a coffee and meanwhile she tried to see what the man on the opposite side of the table was drawing. For a long time she tried not to look and made an effort to appear interested in what was happening at the other tables, and she saw outside where the still pale sun still hadn’t set. They exchanged a glance and for the first time Corinne saw his face. He was no longer young, he was a mature man with a certain attractiveness without being handsome. He didn’t seem to be interested in her, nevertheless Corinne dared to speak to him, “Please, what are you drawing?”

Without showing any emotion the man pushed the sketches towards her. Corinne looked at each one carefully. “Are you a designer?”

“Yes, I am. The sketches you have in front of you are my ideas for the house of my next client.”

Corinne didn’t want to offend him or lie, “Some of them are quite good, but frankly there are some things that I don’t like at all.”

Instead of being offended the man looked at her with more interest.

Corinne had to go. “I’m sorry but I have to leave.”

“Why are you sorry? If you like we can meet again.”

Corinne said, “Why?”

“Because I’d like you to see some of my other work. I like the fact that you haven’t tried to please me. Perhaps you can be of some help to me. What do you say if we meet here or in another place tomorrow at the same time?”

Corinne didn’t know what to say to him. The man on seeing her upset, “It doesn’t matter if you can’t make it. Anyway, I’ll be here tomorrow at the same time.”

Corinne left the café with the intention of never seeing him again.

She arrived home just in time to prepare the dinner and set the table before her husband’s arrival. The couple’s daughters had basketball practise nearly every afternoon so she had plenty of time to think things over while she was working. Her husband arrived, switched on the television sat down in an armchair, and shouted, “Corinne, is dinner ready?”

Corinne didn’t reply she just opened the door. That night was no different from all the others. Everything so normal, so monotonous, and so calculated. Her husband in the armchair, always in the same place. Corinne was convinced that the head of the house had it all worked out with a tape measure. The girls were in their bedrooms doing their homework. Corinne picked up the cat and began to stroke it.

It was cold and Corinne left the terrace and went to the bedroom which still smelt of him. She undressed and went to bed. Tomorrow would be decision day but tonight all she wanted to do was sleep.

It was seven o’clock when Corinne’s husband pushed her out of bed and she got up to prepare the breakfast. Once the table had been cleared she put on a frilly blouse and in the living-room picked up the chess pieces put them in a box and covered the table with a cloth.

That afternoon Corinne approached the café with the desire to find out if he had arrived. Just like the previous afternoon the café was full of people, she gave it the once over and saw him. On the table in front of him there were more sketches, or were they the same ones?

“Good afternoon, have you been here long?”

The man looked up at her and pulled up a chair for her. Corinne picked up the sketches. “I see that you have changed some details.”

“After what you said yesterday, I saw that you were right, therefore the changes. What do you think now? Do you like them more?”

Corinne stared at the sketches but deep down she wasn’t very interested, only curious. “What’s it like working on houses for other people? You must have some sort of power over your clients.”

The man remained silent.

“The colours are chosen by you, the furniture, the floors, the lamps, the clients don’t do anything. They live in an atmosphere created by you.”

“That’s what they want. People with a lot of money don’t want to waste time choosing curtains, furniture, carpets etc. That’s why they call in an expert to do everything.”

“And you are this expert.” It was more of an exclamation than a question.

Corinne got up to go, “It’s time for me to go.”

“Shall we meet again?”

“That depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Whether or not I want to see you again.”

“Tomorrow I’ll be away with a client so if you wish to see me again look for me in the café in the park in two days’ time. OK?”

“OK. Bye.”

Corinne was in such a hurry to leave the café she nearly knocked a waiter down.

In the street she breathed in deeply.

The sound of the waves hitting the sea shore was in Corinne’s ears. The house was now tidy. She had taken down the pale blue dressing-gown from the bathroom door and it was in the suitcase. What a lot of things! Tomorrow she would have to do all the paperwork. It wouldn’t be an easy task! The photo of them hugging each other on the beach both of them smiling. Corinne could hardly recognize herself. The cat scratching the door made her get up.

“Corinne, the plants are very dry. They need watering.”

Corinne leafed through a magazine while she was preparing the dinner. Her husband had arrived a short time before and had entered the kitchen, much to Corinne’s surprise. There were many plants and all of them very large, they were presents from his mother. Corinne watered them from time to time, but it had been some time since their last watering.

The rain falling on the sand and the sea hypnotised her. The rain on the beach is not the same as the city rain. Corinne decided to organise the papers. She picked up the drawers and emptied their contents onto the study desk. She was no longer overwhelmed by loneliness. Maybe I’m getting used to it, she thought to herself. The cat was playing with a ball of screwed up paper, while she was trying to get everything else in order.

Her husband switched off the television and called her, “Corinne, it’s time to go to bed.”

She didn’t answer him, she went to the bathroom.

“Corinne, please hurry up. I don’t feel like waiting an hour, I’m tired.”

Corinne was alone in bed, the cat was sleeping in a basket. The rain fell ceaselessly outside. Everything was dark: the sea, the sky, the sand, the bedroom. Where had all the colours gone? The beach shouldn’t be seen in winter.

“Corinne, you haven’t switched off the kitchen light.”

The next afternoon Corinne bought a new dress. The shop assistant said it was the latest model. Corinne knew why she had bought the dress. It was for him. And supposing he didn’t like the colour, what then? At home she tried on the dress in her bedroom turning this way and that in front of the mirror to see the effect from all possible angles. I don’t want him to see it, Corinne thought, and she put the precious dress in a dark corner of the wardrobe.

The café in the park was on a spacious terrace. In far off times it had been a stately home, now it was a restaurant and café. Corinne felt as if all eyes were on her as she went in. It must be the dress, she thought. He was there waiting for her. This time there were no sketches in front of him, just a newspaper.

“Good afternoon.” The man stood up and offered her a seat. Corinne sat down happily. “Your dress is very pretty, that colour suits you.”

“Thank you, I like blue. How did it go yesterday? “

The man signalled for a waiter to go over to them.

“Yes, sir.”

“What would you like?”

Corinne didn’t think twice, “Coffee and a piece of lemon meringue pie.”

If the man felt surprised by her choice he didn’t show it and said to the waiter, “I’ll have the same.”

The waiter went away to get their order.

“I feel like eating something sweet,” Corinne said.

The man took one of her hands and she felt very happy.

“Corinne, where’s my dressing-gown?”

“What dressing-gown?”

“What do you  mean by that? What dressing gown?  My blue dressing-gown, the one that’s always hanging on the bathroom door. What have you done with it?” Corinne’s husband shouted.

Corinne was walking along the beach, it had stopped raining. The wind played with her dark chestnut curls. Over a white blouse, one of his favourites, Corinne wore a knitted jacket in an intense blue against the cold wind. From walking so much her eyes were watery from the wind. She stopped for a while to contemplate the sea. The sky had been overcast all day however a ray of weak sunshine had broken the clouds, that showed it was now sunset.

The oven clock rang announcing that dinner was cooked and ready to be eaten. Corinne’s husband was still annoyed for not having found the dressing-gown. The girls ate quickly as they had to go out. Her husband, once he had eaten, went into the living-room and put on a DVD.

The cat licked its face and paws, and the sea with a terrific force hit against the sand

and the rocks. Corinne sat on the sofa and looked at the windows, the curtains were inflated by the wind. She was thinking that tomorrow she would go. But where? Later she went onto the beach to absorb for the last time the sea, the waves, the sky with the agonizing sunset, and feel the wind on her face and in her hair. I’ll never forget this place she thought. And Corinne sat on the beach for the last time before leaving.

Corinne arrived home tired from shopping. She opened the front door and saw her husband was at home. “Hello, what are you doing here at this time?”

“I have to go away and have come home to pack a case. Do you know where that little black case is?” he asked her.

Corinne opened the wardrobe door and from the back got out the little black case.

“Why is this case in here?”

“Well, I really don’t know,” Corinne answered.

Corinne said nothing else. Her husband opened the case and with his mouth and his eyes wide-open he began emptying the case: the pale blue dressing-gown, her new dress, a pile of sketches that ages ago he had thrown out, an old photo of them on their honeymoon at a beach resort.

“Why have you kept all this rubbish!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reviews

[The Ink Chapters]

Really great writing style and good premise for a story. However it needs a bit more explanation for example; why does Corine always have to go so suddenly? What is it she has to do or is she just wanting to leave. It is also very hard to follow the back and forth of her being at a beach house to her time with her husband. I would work on those transitions; otherwise you wrote really well. I liked the description of the "screwed up ball" the cat was playing with for example. Great story :) just needs to be edited to clear up some confusion.

[closed..acct]

Wow such amazing detail and imagery.
I really liked this write, so full of detail.
The set up of this write is wonderful as well.
I enjoyed this some places made me laugh a bit.
I enjoyed this.