As you may know I am involved in Writer's Block, a group I started some years back for like minded scribblers. We are a small group and meet together in blocks of six fortnightly sessions, usually in the Autumn and Spring. I certainly have not suffered with Writer's Block whilst engaged in my 60 day challenge. As an ending to the challenge I decided to enter a short story competition, something I don't do often enough. Here is the piece I submitted:
DECISION TIME
Lottie dipped the last ‘soldier’ into her boiled egg. Sitting at the breakfast table alone her
thoughts of his proposal swirled around her head. She glanced at the clock – “time to move,”
she said aloud to dispel the thoughts in her brain.
Lottie prided herself with never being late for work but her
body seemed to be on a go slow this blustery autumn morning. Grabbing a banana and her handbag she headed
out from home. Knowing she had a stash
of comforters in her desk drawer cheered her as it would be difficult to work
when Mark was waiting for an answer. He
had booked a table at his local pub and she was already thinking about steak
and chips as she drove to work.
In the slow moving traffic she ate the banana and pushed the
skin into an overflowing rubbish bag on the passenger seat. She spotted the car well next to her - crisp
packets, empty cartons, pop bottles and chocolate wrappers littered the floor. “I must clear up my life, never mind this car,”
she thought.
Turning on the radio a DJ was talking about West End
musicals and had a guest in the studio that chose the next record from
‘Oliver’. “Food, glorious food…” sang
out and Lottie changed the channel, she needed something upbeat and not a
reminder that she needed to take her eating habits in hand.
Stress made her eat more and Mark was eager for an
answer. They had been together four
years now and he had never shown any concern about her size before. Lottie pulled down the sun visor and, keeping
one eye on the traffic, smiled at the image in the mirror. Her hair and makeup were always at their
best, her skin smooth and creamy white, lips full and luscious with
lip-gloss.
When the traffic began to move she suddenly turned off the
Cambridge Road and headed out of town.
She nudged her hands free ‘phone and called the office saying she was
ill and would not be in today.
It was a recall of the ‘F’ word Mark had used that made her
divert. She pulled into the nearest
garage, filled up with petrol then went into the shop to grab some food and
take-away coffee. The cashier took her
money and said, “Have a good day.” She
found herself replying, “Oh I will, thank you.”
Lottie was creeping up to 35 years of age. She had never married nor had any
children. Her job was the only thing she
felt good about, her self-esteem waivered.
She had suffered from bullying at school and had several boyfriends
before meeting Mark. He had a troubled
background having lost his parents at an early age in a car crash. Then his foster carers’ marriage break-up
forced them to put him back into care where he stayed until he was 18. He went from job to job never settling down
or enjoying life.
At weekends Lottie slept over at his flat. It was an arrangement that suited them
both. At first they enjoyed close
comfort and had passionate sex but now they mostly just slept. Mark liked lager and the weekends were an
excuse to drink excessively. It dulled
his ache, his longing for love and security. His mates
had disowned him for getting into trouble fighting or being loud in the street.
Lottie didn’t see
this behaviour but heard about it and tried to ignore it. He clammed up whenever she tried to suggest
perhaps he needed help and so they drifted on in their relationship – not
seeing each other in the week but being together all weekend. She was always coming and going from his flat,
bringing bags of groceries, feeding him well and cleaning his kitchen in the
process. When she arrived the fridge
would contain a bit of mouldy cheese, a bottle of milk and more cans of lager
than she liked the sight of.
Lottie pulled up in Central Park, grabbed her coat and scarf
from the back seat and the bag supplies she had purchased at the garage. She headed for the lake where she planned to
sit and really think through what Mark had said and proposed last weekend. It was too important not to give it the time
needed for a right decision.
Now the wind had dropped, a hazy sun shone through the
trees. From the bench she marvelled at
the variety of colours on the leaves and their reflection in the still waters
of the lake. It was a quiet spot, only a
jogger passed her and on another bench across the lake she could see an elderly
couple feeding the ducks. Even though it
wasn’t lunch time she took out the cheese and pickle baguette and placed the
coffee cup on the bench.
She took a deep breath, sighed, then ate. He had said, “Fat. You have gott’n fat.” It was the straw that broke the camel’s
back. Something snapped inside her. She had put up with his drinking and
negativity, snide remarks and criticisms long enough. He was draining her of energy and
vitality. He raged at the television
when his favourite football team didn’t score goals or win the match; he
belched after the meals she made him, he snored in bed. Sex was a distant memory and soft words and
romantic dates were long gone too.
Lottie sipped the coffee and pulled out the bag of three
doughnuts. He was rude to her friends,
so much so they had stopped socialising.
He didn’t take care of his appearance and didn’t shower half as much as
she would like him to. He liked loud
weird music played in his flat but at her friend’s wedding he had complained
the disco music was too loud and stood outside, glass in hand, all
evening. She sighed again. A tear edged over the brim of her eye lid and
ran down her cold cheek. Brushing it
away she drank the last of the coffee.
“I deserve better,” she told herself and reached for the
last doughnut. She stared at it for a
moment, then stood up and threw it as far as she could in temper. Angry with Mark. Angry with herself. It landed on the grass verge at the edge of
the lake, a dog ran towards it and picking it up in his mouth brought it back
to her. She looked around for its owner
but there was no-one about. The dog sat
and waited for the ‘ball’ to be thrown again but Lottie ignored it.
“Sorry is Scottie bothering you?” a male voice came from
behind.
“No, he’s fine, he’s just taught me a lesson,” Lottie
replied gathering all her food rubbish into the bag and walking off to the
nearest bin. “I’ve been like that dog
returning to someone who doesn’t really want me as I am, playing with me,
teasing me, pretending he loves me. I’m
going to say ‘No’”.
With renewed energy Lottie strode back to the car. An inner strength had come from staring at
nature she noted. “I must do it more
often,” she thought as she opened the car door.
Before getting in she went around to the passenger side and scooped up
all the rubbish from food binges, stuffed them into another carrier bag and
again went to the nearest bin depositing them with glee. “I need to get rid of the rubbish in my life,
I need to get out more, see my friends, dance at discos and laugh.” She felt so strong now that the drive home whizzed
by.
Noticing how out of breath she was climbing the steps to her
flat, Lottie felt a sense of something big changing within her. She grabbed the ‘phone and dialled Mark’s
number. He would be under some car doing
an oil change or cleaning the boss’s spark plugs, so she felt confident she
could leave a message.
“Hi Mark, cancel tonight the answer is NO. I won’t be moving in with you; in fact I won’t
be coming this weekend or any weekend from now on. I suggest you get yourself a ‘thin’
girlfriend who likes playing ‘fetch’ like a puppy dog and who will keep coming
back for more when all you give is crap.
Don’t ring me back. It’s
over. Bye.” She hung up and slumped down on the
sofa. A huge sense of relief washed over
her and she smiled to herself.
The rest of the day was spent clearing out clutter in her
bedroom and out of date or unhealthy options from her kitchen cupboard. It was drastic but necessary. She wasn’t going to ‘diet’, she had had
enough attempts to sink a ship but instead went to the supermarket and brought
lots of fruit, vegetables, fresh meat and a cook book. Today was a turning point in her life – like
the season, things were changing.
