A breeze blew the golden brown leaves down the pavement. It was early morning, and the rays of light were barely breaking the horizon. There was a little murmur of traffic as the commuters were starting to make their longer journeys from the tiny village to the various cities around. The early birds were delaying their songs, awaiting a little bit more light to filter through the darkened skies. Stars were shining, as there were no clouds. Some would have even considered it to be romantic, had it been at the other end of the day.
The room was spacious. A double bed lay right in the centre, draped in linen that was patterned with gold and silver squares. A bedside table, home of a lamp and an alarm clock. There was a little cupboard underneath, but that was a storage for all the important paperwork. Over in one of the corners, was a flat screen TV, all wired up to a digital box which was part of an ongoing monthly subscription for all available channels. To the right of the bed, was a door to an en-suite bathroom, with white tiled walls, chequered tiling on the floor, and a separate bath and shower facility.
So the alarm was bleeping. An idle hand rose up from under the covers, showing a sign of life. A few moments passed as this hand reached around to find the source of this continuous beeping, until finally it settled upon the alarm. Although tempted to use the snooze function, allowing an extra ten minutes each time it was pressed, this single hand decided otherwise, opting to completely turn the alarm off. Pulling the covers off, there was a slightly larger framed female specimen, a thirty-eight year old, with shoulder length brown hair. There was much to be anticipated today, and so much to get ready.
As the time seemed to drag slowly through the morning, the rays of sunlight filtered in through the east-facing window. The curtains were not open, but the light colouring of them allowed the sunlight to shine through, adding weight to the decision to wake up. Volume of traffic was always quite high, as there was only one route through this village to get to the cities, so the hustle and bustle of the cars passing through the neighbourhood began to make an increasing amount of noise. The woman rolled out of bed, tidying up the bedding as she did so, before stumbling across to open the curtains, yawning widely as she did so.
After a few moments of just embracing the start of a brand new day, she was initially in two minds. Coffee, or shower. She decided she was going to be different today, so she went over to her purse, and pulled a coin out. Ok, heads for coffee, tails for shower, she said to herself as she flipped the coin into the air. Letting it hit the cream coloured carpet, she watched it slowly come to a stop. It was tails. Seemed the fairest way for her to organise a choice of two different options, so she grabbed her towels and hopped in for a quick blast of freshening up.
Feeling more alert after her shower, she was able to notice that the intensity of the traffic flow was continuing to increase as rush hour was inching its way ever closer. Having flipped the coin to decide which she was going to do first, she knew what she was going to do next. Leaving the serenity of the well kept bedroom behind, she made her way down the hall, past one of the spare bedrooms, before descending the staircase. The uncarpeted wooden staircase was a little treacherous, some would say, but only if it wasn’t well looked after. At the bottom of the stairs, she turned right, into the rather large kitchen area, and filled up the kettle. Coffee was going to be key to her making it through today. There was a lot to do, but she was rather conscious of the time and, having thoroughly planned it all out in advance, it was just putting it all together at the right time.
The cupboard above the kettle was where they kept the mugs. There was an assembled assortment, a collection built up over a number of years, but today she opted to select her preferential favourite mug. It was red, just like her favourite dress that she had deliberately reserved for special occasions. Today was going to be no different. There were three jars on the side behind where the kettle was. All were labelled, one with Tea, one with Coffee, and one with Sugar. Picking out the Coffee and the Sugar jars, she grabbed a teaspoon out of the drawer under the toaster a little further along, and proceeded to take a spoonful of sugar, and a half-spoon of coffee. Black coffee was her style, especially first thing in the morning when she needed a boost.
She wasn’t much of a breakfast person. Today there was a slightly edgier feel, a little wave of anxiety, so eating breakfast was not at the forefront of her mind. Instead she made her way, coffee in hand, through past the bottom of the stairs, into the sitting-room. In the middle of this sitting-room sat a mahogany coffee table, varnished and rather tidy to look upon, with a couple of glass pane squares, bisected by another line of mahogany. There was a red three-piece suite, formed of a three seater settee, which was along a side wall, and two armchairs along the other. The layout of the room was a little haphazard, but she wasn’t too bothered about that. Not today. If there was anything wrong, she was anticipating it all being sorted over the coming days.
Sitting down in one of the armchairs, she leant forwards and, moving a coaster from just about in arms reach, to directly in front of her, she placed the coffee cup onto it. There was a little box down beside the chair she was sat in, which inside, had the plans listed as to what was to be done today. Opening the box, and pulling out this pre-planned itinerary, she began systematically taking the information in. There was a little bit of grocery shopping to be done, to assist with the preparation of food for the evening ahead, but there was also a few other things. The gas bill was due to be paid, along with sending a letter first-class. Both would have to wait until the post office was open. She also had invitations to hand around to village neighbours, and a list of a few numbers to dial to confirm if other family members were going to be able to make it or not.
Taking a sip of her morning coffee, she realised something was missing. She’d left her cigarettes upstairs. Making her way back up the wooden staircase, she had a brief look into the spare rooms to make sure everything was present and correct. Everything seemed to be in order, so she made her way to her bedroom, and found her cigarettes inside the pocket of her light blue jeans. Realising she’d not got a working lighter as her previous one had died, she began to panic slightly, but then remembered seeing a box of matches in the drawer with the cutlery.
Having located the cigarettes and matches, she picked up her coffee from the coaster in the sitting-room, before making her way to the porch at the back of the house. There was a bench in this porch, and a little shapely table, with an ashtray in place. Closing the door to the house to avoid any unnecessary smoke getting inside, she proceeded to light up. No sooner had she done so, than her phone began to ring. Frantically stubbing her cigarette out, she raced to get to the phone, only as she picked up, to hear a click as the person at the other end had hung up. With no way of figuring out who it was that had tried to dial, she put it down to a missed opportunity and returned to the porch. Re-lighting her cigarette, and gulping down her coffee which had now gone mildly tepid. As she finished her cigarette and opened the door, she heard the phone go again. This time, with the advantage of not having to open the door again, she made it to discover it was her younger brother.
“Hello, Violet here,” she answered in a slightly breathless voice.
“Hello my darling sister. Its Drake,” replied her brother.
“Oh, good, while you’re on the phone, are you going to be able to make it later?” she enquired a little more calmly.
“I should be there about six o’clock. Is there anything you need me to do?” he responded.
“I have it covered. If needed, I shall call you.”
“Ok sis, You take care, and I’ll catch you later.”
“Take care. Bye.”
A short conversation, but it allowed her to cross one person off of her list of people to speak to. But where was her itinerary? She didn’t remember having it out in the porch, nor was it likely to be upstairs where she’d got her cigarettes from. Just then, there was a knock at the door. Hurrying over to it, a little flustered, she opened the door to discover the village postman, Derek, was there with a small package in his hands.
Derek was a sprightly fellow. He had been delivering letters and parcels single-handedly round this village for thirty-five years now, and knew everyone by name. Even though people had come and gone, he was good with his memory still. To look at him, you wouldn’t have believed he had turned sixty just a year ago. He still had jet-black hair, all natural colouring, and the brightest blue eyes anyone could ever imagine. A stocky man, he had looked after himself well over the years, and could keep up with many a youngster on the pushbikes.
“Hello Derek. Do you need me to sign for this?” she asked, eying up the package he held.
“No Vi, no signature required for this one, it was just a little too big to fit through the letterbox that’s all,” he replied. “Are you excited for tonight?”
She looked at him apprehensively. “I’m excited, but I’m employing caution. I would like everything to go right, but there’s still a little seed of doubt that something could go wrong.”
“There’s nothing wrong with a little bit of cautiousness. I hope I can make it, if these legs of mine allow me to arrive safely,” he replied, a cheeky grin spreading over his face.
“You’ll be fine, you’ve done so much for this community and you’re in good health yourself. Unlike us smokers you have a glow about you,” she said, remorsefully.
“I’ll see you here about seven then. What time are they due to arrive?”
“Sometime between seven-thirty and eight,” she opened the package while saying. “Oh, invitations! What a delight. Could you do me a small favour and pop these in on your way around?”
“Why most certainly Vi. We are a community and every little bit goes a long way. I shall be back later.”
“Don’t wear yourself out. I expect they would want to see everyone. You have a good day, and thank you Derek.”
“Not a problem Vi. Cheerio!”
That was two more things to cross off her list. Now where had she put it? She knew there was a gas bill to pay, and also a little bit of grocery shopping to do, but she was sure there was something else to do at the post office. She returned to the sitting-room, and there, on top of the box where it had been kept inside, was a small, folded, piece of paper. Sighing with relief, she walked over to it, and opened it out.
Derek, Drake. Two names to cross off. Invitations sent out, albeit with the help of Derek, but they were on their way. And scrolling through the list, she realised she’d forgotten to give Derek the letter. As she still had to go to the post office anyway, it wasn’t quite so bad.
Time was feeling like it was starting to go a bit quicker, so she carried her itinerary upstairs, and left it by her alarm clock as she got out a couple of things to pop on for the running around of the day. She wanted to get the shopping and post office out of the way so she could concentrate on confirming other arrivals and preparing the food. Putting on a short sleeved, navy blue t-shirt, and the light blue jeans, there was one small matter of her hair to organise. ‘It’s not important for now,’ she thought. ‘It’ll only need redoing later.” Spotting her gleaming white trainers in the corner, she put them on, got her keys, locked up and set off for the shops.
On arrival at the post office, with gas bill and letter in one hand, and grocery shopping list in the other, she happened to bump into her sister-in-law, Jackie. Jackie was thirty-three, had strawberry blonde hair, was five foot three, and had a figure that she could only read about in magazines. She was a sweet enough woman, and Violet had said that her brother Drake was one of the luckiest men alive. He knew this too, and had allowed Jackie to maintain her integrity.
“Good morning Jackie. What a pleasant surprise!” Violet exclaimed. “What brings you down to here today?”
Jackie peered over the top of her magazine she was flicking through. “Oh hi Violet, didn’t see you come in. I’ve come for my weekly fix of celebrity gossip. Everything still on for tonight?”
“For now, yes. I may need a hand later, with food preparations. Would you be able to come over about three o’clock to help?” asked Violet.
“I would be delighted to. Its not every day something like this happens is it?” Jackie responded excitedly.
Violet raised an eyebrow. “Of course not. I just wish it didn’t have to be so, nerve-wracking. I must send this letter and pay this bill though.”
“And I must go drop this magazine home, and make myself presentable. I’ll see you at three then,” Jackie waved as she exited the post office.
Lauren, was a young cashier, who was a relative unknown in the village. However, her manager, Simon, was helping her on her first week, to introduce her to all the villagers as they came in. “A fine morning we have here, Violet,” his gravelly country tones boomed. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”
“I’ve just come in to post a letter to my nephew, who’s already apologised for not being able to make the party this evening, and to also pay my gas bill. I have the statement here somewhere,” she began, hunting through her bag. “Found it. And who is this charming young lady?”
“This is Lauren, she’s new to the village and I’m teaching her about our different mannerisms, who is who, and how to treat people with respect.”
Simon’s voice boomed where Laurens was quiet and well-spoken.
“Hello. Violet is it? How may I be of service?”
“I would like one first-class stamp, for this letter,” Violet said, passing the letter through the counter, with the gas bill on top. “And also to pay this bill.”
“Ok my dear,” Simon explained. “How to deal with a bill, is we take our stamp, place it on the open space in the middle, and once more on the bottom half for the customer. Then we tear off the little strip along here,” he pointed at the dotted line, “and return the slip back.”
Lauren did as she was told. A little nervous, as this was her first time away from home, away from friends and family, but eager to learn.
“Ok Violet, that will be £25.23,” Lauren spoke out. A little quiet, but then repeated with a touch more volume and assertiveness.
Violet made a cheque out to the post office and passed it through. “Simon, could you explain to Lauren what is going on this evening, she’s more than welcome to come along to join in. After all, we are a community,” she echoed the words that Derek has said to her barely an hour earlier.
“Sure thing Vi,” he boomed. “I’ll be there myself, about seven.”
“Thank you for being so helpful. Will see you there,” Violet smiled.
Everything seemed to be falling nicely into place. Apart from the missing nephew, no-one had let her down yet, but the hard work was still to be done. With one more thing done, she headed off next door, to the small farm foods shop. They were in the countryside after all, how was it likely to be anything else?
Shopping list in hand, she picked up a basket and stepped inside. It didn’t take her long to find the items she needed, breadcrumbs for the breaded mushrooms, free range eggs for the salad, and a few pints of freshly made cows milk. Totting up the balance was Neville, a short-sighted, shy, slightly balding, white haired man, who had aged beyond his years. He was only forty-nine. People would have believed him and Derek got the wrong birth certificates with the contrast in looks.
“Just a small shop today Vi?” he asked.
“Yes Neville, just a few last minute bits. Are you coming along?” she answered.
“Try and stop me,” he chuckled. “I’ll be there at five with a bottle of white wine to chill in a bucket of ice.”
“Ok,” she replied, paying for her goods. “I’ll be sure to have the bucket of ice ready. See you later.”
As she set off back home, the rush hour traffic having dispersed and slowed to a trickle of cars coming through, the suns rays shone rather strongly. However, there was a relatively calming breeze, just right. Tranquil. Peaceful. Serene. Was there anything going to go wrong? She didn’t know. But it was all looking rosy. There were a few more golden, orange, and brown leaves falling off the trees, and also a hint of summer beginning to feel like it had come to an end.
Upon arrival home, she placed the milk and eggs in the door of the fridge, and the breadcrumbs were left on the kitchen worktop. It was about to get a little hectic in the kitchen so there was not really much point to put them away. So many things to make, but the most important was cooking the meat well. She turned on the oven, and allowed a few minutes for it to heat up. While doing so she settled for another cigarette in the porch. There seemed to be no stress but she was nervous and edgy still. What if they didn’t show? What if she got the dreaded call? So many things were playing on her mind, but with the cigarette she calmed back down again. Washing her hands, she placed the chicken onto a tray, with baking foil underneath it, and then into the oven. That would take a few hours, so she started preparing a few other little bits. Pastry for the quiche, mushrooms for the breadcrumbs to cover, a home-made pizza from scratch. Most of these little bits would need to be put in the oven around seven o’clock, but there was still a couple of bits to sort out.
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