Page 23 of Knowing You
A wolf whistle isn’t anything I’ve ever aspired to receive. In fact I used to wonder why any woman would want that unsolicited attention. Yet now I feel as if it’s some sort of tick. A tick in a box that was never completed for the old Violet. A tick that brings expectations.
With aching feet, we end up in a coffee shop off the main road. Bags hang from my hands. I never realised shopping could be such a workout. Bella will have to give my shoulders one of her massages. The cafe has simple wooden tables and chairs and sells hot drinks in old-fashioned sized cups with saucers. The cakes are traditional English fare – scones, Victoria Sandwich and toasted teacakes. It’s not the sort of place Lenny would like to be seen in, but it’s quiet and straightforward after a couple of hours navigating the stores. I’m drinking black coffee and am surprised after purchasing small size twelve jeans. I’m not sure if it’s that or the caffeine that makes me feel taller than Big Ben. Sixteen, fourteen and now twelve – these numbers are important. They represent how I’m counting down to success; how I’m moving on from heartbreak.
I never understood that word before. How could a heart break in two? The physical pain of Lenny leaving took me unawares. A sharp pain in my chest. Not a stab but a sheet of agony that pushed down, as if I was undergoing a medieval execution and being crushed to death. People say a good cry helps. I found it only made things worse, whereas meeting Bella has given me a goal again. Shedding old clothes and lazy habits – it feels like shedding a weaker version of me.
Farah is great but hasn’t encouraged my change. I know from the way she speaks of her fashion-conscious daughter, Farah probably thinks I need some “meat on my bones”. And Kath says my hair colour is lovely as it is and did I know peroxide will ruin its condition?
‘There’s one explanation for Farah,’ says Bella and puts down her cup. ‘It’s quite simple. She’s jealous. You’re looking, quite simply, fantastic.’
‘I’m not sure about that…’
‘You have to watch out for people sabotaging your hard work because the new you makes them take a long look at their own flaws.’
Could she be right? Now that I think about it, Farah is a little overweight.
The barista approaches and we stop talking. I like the way his fringe flops over his brows. He hands me a paper bag containing three cherry scones. ‘They go out of date tonight. Please take them. They’ll only go in the bin.’
‘Thank you so much.’
‘My pleasure. And by the way – you have the loveliest smile I’ve seen today.’
Bella gives my arm a squeeze as he grins and leaves. ‘See. What did I say?’ she whispers. ‘I’m far too proud to be jealous!’
An hour later we’re back home and I hang up my new clothes. As I go back into the lounge, there’s a knock at the door. Kath has just got back from her Friday bingo with Nora. It’s almost nine o’clock.
‘Fancy a scone?’ I say and tell her about the cafe owner. I make us a nice pot of tea and sit down next to Kath on the sofa. She admires a red dress stretched out on an armchair.
‘Goodness, that’s tiny,’ she says.
‘It’s Bella’s.’
‘Is she in? I’d love to meet her.’
‘She hurried out for her evening run. The roads are emptier at this time.’ I pick up the dress. ‘I’ll just put this in her room.’
I walk in and lay the dress on the silver polka dot duvet cover. Bella’s slippers sit on the floor, neatly by the side of her bed. This space used to be Lenny’s. It’s comforting to see it’s no longer empty.
Chapter 10
I wake up Monday morning feeling guilty after eating pizza. This is new for me. What triggered it was the sight of the takeaway box with its lid still flipped open. All the clues were there – the skid marks of tomato topping and crust crumbs.
I’d celebrated after spending yesterday afternoon with the book club. We’d gone to the garden centre for lunch. It was the fourteenth of April – exactly two months since Lenny and I split.
I still miss the shape of him in bed. Each morning, I reach out for his warmth and am met by cold sheets that dwarf me. I need to continue filling the gap he’s left: make my life as full as Bella’s with her work, her friends, her health regime.
I suggested setting up a book review blog for Kath, Nora and Pauline. Now and again they talked about how they missed using the computer skills they acquired in their jobs. This was the perfect solution. They keep up-to-date. I keep busy. We finally settled on a name: Vintage Views.Excitement bubbled as we decided the blog, as well as reviews, could include posts on subjects they were interested in that were connected to books. And friends of theirs could write guest posts.
Nora would contribute reviews of movies that had been adapted from novels. She’s always secretly fancied being a cinema critic. Former nurse Kath was interested in stories that dealt with mental health.
‘And I’m keen to review any book, film or television programme that’s even remotely linked to Benedict Cumberbatch,’ said Pauline, which led to us all confessing our celebrity crushes. I’ve agreed to meet them in the pub after work tomorrow to get started on the website, since they are too keen to wait until the weekend. Over recent months, without even realising it, the book club has made me feel as if I’m more on the inside of something than out. It’s a place away from work where I also feel like I fit in. Yesterday afternoon I didn’t think once about my failed romance or my makeover. It was just me being me like before. Hence the pizza.
And now, instead of seeing the new sleeker me, I suddenly feel big. Before starting my new health programme, I never felt like that about my body or thought much about anyone’s physicality. Whilst I found Lenny attractive, it wasn’t his figure that registered first. It was always the eyes. How they made me laugh. How they made me feel like an attractive woman in a way I didn’t feel embarrassed about. It’s hard to look back now and realise it must have been different for him. Eventually he’d stopped seeing me, the person inside. Instead he saw someone who didn’t suit the glittering life to which he aspired; a home bird who’d offered him a refuge from the scariness of striking out as an adult, on his own, and wasn’t needed anymore.
To make up for myslip– that’s what I’m calling the pizza – I get off the bus early and walk an extra mile to the office. Plus I take a brave step and call into a hairdresser’s near work during my lunch. They’ve had a cancellation at four thirty and if I can leave that early will be able to fit me in for highlights. Blonde streaks will mark another benchmark along the way to a new me who doesn’t need anyone else to make her life complete.
Except the hairdresser straightens my hair as well. I can’t help gasping when she’s finished. She gives a low whistle. ‘Just look at who’s been hiding under all that brown frizz. You look like a cover girl.’
I can’t take my eyes away from the mirror. I feel big-headed thinking it, but it’s true. I wouldn’t look out of place in one of Bella’s fashion magazines.
