Page 81 of The Night Shift
‘Fair enough,’ he said, and he made his way along the corridor with his heart a little lighter. It shouldn’t matter whether Amelia thought he was a bastard or not, but there was only so much a man could change. He would always be someone who cared what people thought of him, he was never going to be the type who would willingly hurt another person’s feelings, but at least now, after Violet’s prompting, he knew he could act in his own interests too. She’d made him see that his happiness shouldn’t be entirely dependent on the mood of those around him.
It was just sad, he thought as he slid under the duvet, that the woman who had empowered him was also the one who had inadvertently broken his heart.
Violet
As Dev made his unexpected proposal and Marvin smiled so widely that he nearly burst his facial sutures Violet decided to leave them to it. Her eyes were filling up and although her tears were predominantly happy ones, there was the possibility of a few feeling-sorry-for-herself ones sneaking in. She didn’t want to detract from their moment with her own sadness and her mum instantly saw the conundrum, whisking her into the kitchen laden with party paraphernalia to keep them both occupied.
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.’
‘Love you, my sweet girl,’ her mother shouted out of the open window. ‘Bloody Nora, it’s freezing!’ She rolled the window back up again hastily and Violet went back indoors, pulling her cardigan tight around her. Dev took one look at what she was wearing and frowned.
‘Violet,’ he said. ‘It was you who persuaded me to go ahead with this New Year’s Eve party. Please don’t let the side down by wearing comfortable beige knitwear. Go upstairs and don’t come back down until you have a full face of make-up and a microscopic sparkling dress on, or I will force you to drink prosecco and talk about girlie things all evening.’
‘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 youdefinitelydo– 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’treallybrutal– 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.’
