- Vol. 10
- Chapter 12
Things
She did not like heavy luggage. A real aversion to it in fact. It was one of her “things”.
That was why I had spent most of the day in Oak Court shopping centre in Milton Keynes looking for a suitable bag for her.
Listen to me. Looking for a bag – has to be blue, can’t be rectangular (another one of her things) – to allow her to pack her things and leave me.
I thought we had something. The sacrifices we made for each other.
I got rid of my cat (no animals), my car (it wasn’t blue) and at least twelve friends who said she wasn’t good enough for me. In return, she agreed to walk on my carpets (with shoe covers) and she even held my hand as long as I used hand sanitiser first.
The shopping centre was a kaleidoscope of colour compared to our blue house. I watched in fascination while couples walked past, seemingly carefree, kissing each other without face shields.
It was 4pm before I finally found exactly what I was looking for. A light hexagonal shaped shoulder bag. I was 99% sure she was OK with hexagons; it was definitely octagons which were the problem. I checked it with my luggage weigher – the dial hardly moved. Perfect.
The truth is that I hoped she would never use it. As I gazed out of the window on the bus home, I imagined her throwing her arms around me, telling me that it was all a mistake and that she was going to stay with me. I indulged myself with an extension of the fantasy where she didn’t immediately go and change her clothes afterwards. I would buy her that sapphire ring and have it shrink wrapped in hypoallergenic antibacterial blue plastic. We would do something crazy like go out to the summer house in the garden.
I felt positive on the walk up the lane to our house.
New beginnings.
Things
That was until I saw the gate flung wide open.
She had gone. She had not even waited to say goodbye.
What was left?
A house painted blue. Blue carpets. Blue walls. Blue pillows. Blue bedspread. Hundreds of memories.
And a 250 gram blue hexagonal bag that would never be used.