She lived at the end of Oxford Street, you would see her many a day wandering in Queen’s park, muttering and sucking her teeth with sounds like a snort, sneeze and snuffle. She had large eyes and a muscular body although her legs were noticeably bowed which gave her a rolling gait.
Neighbours were heard to say: “It would take a patient person to deal with her, since she can be cocky stubborn and opinionated”.
If only they knew….
Inside her head at this very moment she was drooling at the thought of lunch…..
A feast of goat’s cheese and plum tomatoes baked on ciabatta bread with roasted peppers, caramelised balsamic onions, chargrilled artichoke hearts, cucumber, cherry tomatoes, marinated olives, mixed leaves and balsamic glaze.
Then there was her past.
If people only knew.
She had moved across the country, reinvented herself and changed her name. It was the only way to cope.
The sudden death of her husband of twenty five years was a devastatingly dreadful shock. Ollie was king of the gym, with the body of Adonis. A perfect couple, they made all the ‘A list’ invitations!
The funeral was large, as you would expect for such a popular figure. People came from far and wide to pay their respects.
Extended family, distant relations, directors and staff from the company, it was kind of them to close down for the day. A large party from the golf club, regulars from the gym, and a group from the yacht club who formed a guard of honour.
Ollie was a popular man. Very popular.
The funeral of a soul-mate is not exactly the place you want to discover exactly how popular he was….
All those conferences….. Golf tournaments…. Weekends for ‘boys only’ yachting trips.
Being a writer, she thrived on having time to churn out the words, so waved him off with a smile.
If only she had known…..
She had heard of strange women who turn up at funerals. Why, she and the girls had often laughed about it: Women with children in tow, who unexpectedly arrive on the scene claiming…. She could not utter the words, even silently inside her head, she wanted to scream and scream… to drown out the thoughts.
The women were real. All three of them, with five children between them.
Then there were the love letters stored in long forgotten boxes.
“It is not just the stuff of movies” she thought. It sure gave a whole new meaning to the phrase “getting your affairs in order”.
#~#~#
The topic Contradiction was chosen for the LBC group this week by Maria Gaelikaa, and I am anxious to read what angle she will take with it. All the links to members Of the Loose Blogging Consortium, are listed in the side bar, so why not make a coffee and enjoy a relaxing read of all the entries.
This is stellar, Grannymar. You’ve demonstrated that you have a way with words. Love the last line . . . quite punny!
Thank you,Nancy. I am learning to get past the ‘hundred wurds’!! 😆
This is great stuff, Marie. You have a writing talent that should be exploited.
Al, sometimes the words work, The kernel was with me for days, yet today I just about made the deadline! It has been an exceptionally busy day.
I hope that when you wrote this you had the original “The Man who loved Women” (Francois Truffaut, 1977) in mind. Not the remake with Burt Reynolds (1983, director Blake Edwards).
U
Ursula, In 1976 I found a man who loved women, but not in the way of Ollie above. This one had eyes for me and me only, At this stage of 1977, we had four days left before our wedding. I have no recollection of the film you mention with either Francois Truffaut or Burt Reynolds.
Marie, how I wish I could have been like Ollie and found out at my funeral! Perhaps I do not have that one thing that women fall for, that something illusive! But I was and am considered to be ……very popular. Contradiction.
Ramana, If you can go by the number of visitors to your blog, then you seem to have pulling power, especially with the fraternity of bloggers
How very common that is, for highly respectable and respected men to turn out to have plenty of skeletons in the closet – mistresses in particular. Most of us have our private secrets that may only be discovered after our death – or never discovered at all.
Nick, Power and infidelity often go hand in hand these days, particularly in the world of politics. I, for one, have no respect for those who play away!
Interesting subject, that! You hear about those kinds of incidents, don’t you? I’ll toddle off now to see how others responded–particularly the men.
Alice, I’ll join you on the rounds, I am late to the playground today!
Nicely done Marie. Reminded me of the 1959 movie The Remarkable Mr. Pennypacker with Clifton Webb for some reason. You do indeed have a way with words.
Chuck, I’ve heard of Penny Parker, but never Mr. Pennypacker! 😆 Did I miss out??
It’s a great old film about a man with 2 families that find out about each other when he dies. It’s worth a watch – I happen to be a big Clifton Webb fan..
such a scene happened in my family – extended family. Oh the secrets and some are kept that way. I often wonder about what we never know.
Great writing, GM, keep it up!
XO
WWW
WWW, we lived in a time full of ‘secrets’ and most of them were not of a healthy variety! Nowadays the dirty washing is all out there for all to see and make judgement – sometimes without knowing the true facts.
We never really know people, because we can’t see inside their heads!
Delores, I won’t contradict with that!
Me, I’m going to be OK at the grand roundup bidding me adios. Mostly because the four people who show up won’t know. And, because anything to know happened before the Lady F and she knows most of it anyway. To her considerable boredom.
But, it would be intriguing to be made like this scoundrel. Would you live life nervously, looking over your shoulder? Or, would you just need to be made of totally different stuff to begin with, a bounder with no capacity to worry about such?
Fos, to live a life like Ollie, I think you would only care about your own needs and very little for those you claim to love!
Flash fiction with a killer twist. Good, very good. Last time I was in Ireland, a year ago, a couple of skeletons came tumbling out of the cupboard and I learnt that a very similar event had happened at the funeral of a close relative of mine, twenty years ago….I’d missed out on all of this as the funeral had taken place in London.
Maria, I think there are many unknown skeletons in the closets of our ancestry.
You would be a great short story writer, GM. I was a walkin’ right beside the rollin’ woman with her thoughts fixed on all that food.
blessings ~ maxi
Maxi, I am as far as 400 words now, still a long way to go for a full short story. I could always cut out the dusting for a little more time! 😉