The Simple Tastes of Yesterday
The simple tastes of yesterday, which wound our tomorrows to come.
....
....
Ainya took a step back and surveyed her work. Perfect...or as near to perfect as she could get it, she thought, as her eyes swept over the slightly off balance table that stood before her. Set for two: two pairs of forks, two pairs of knifes, a desert spoon each, all perfectly displayed around two white and somewhat chipped china plates, the table had obviously been set for romance.
Two silver-plated cruets, one for the pepper and one for the salt. Two tall crystal wine glasses bequeathed to her by her grandma. A bottle of the most expensive red wine she could afford, all set off by cheap tallow candles, whose soft mellow glow softened and hid the shabbiness of the threadbare and extremely tatty tablecloth on which they stood, dripping their hot molten wax into the freshly cleaned ashtrays that held them.
Hmm, not bad, it'll do. Just a little adjustment here... Her fingers twitched forward; and straightening one of the mismatched forks, she took care to line it up carefully with the one that lay opposite. "There," she said aloud, speaking emphatically and to no one but herself. "Much better, now all I need to do is..."
The abrupt shrill scream of her mobile's ringtone suddenly rang out, piercing through her thoughts with its tinny pulsating sound, the constant brrrr brrrr becoming more insistent with each passing second it was left it to ring.
NO! Not again...I'll just leave it. Just let it ring...
Stood stock still, her hand still hovering over the fork, Ainya eyed the buzzing phone on the mantelpiece balefully. Watching as it seemed to jump angrily with each new vibration, she paused to imagine the caller on the other end: pacing up and down his room anxiously, he would be muttering for her to pick up, to answer, while uttering exasperated swear words under his breath.
But Ainya didn't want to pick it up, flip up its shiny top, and answer her bloody persistent phone because she knew it would only be him again anyway. This would be the fifth time today he'd rang - with the same question, asked in the same quietly concerned tones - and every fibre within her body refused to budge; refused to take those few steps around the table, step towards the worktop, pick it up and listen to his overly placating inquiries.
Why wouldn't he just give up on her?
On its tenth consecutive peal the phone finally gave up the fight for her attention, ceasing to ring just as abruptly as it had started. Deafened by the sudden silence it had left in its wake, Ainya finally let out the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. Moving forward quickly, she found herself beside the worktop within three long stride, snatching up the phone into her slippery perspiring hands.
No more, no more tonight! This was her night - hers and Niall's - and she wasn't going to let anything happen to ruin things, not anything at all. This night was special, their annual anniversary, and she wouldn't allow any well-meaning friend to spoil it. Her fingers inched towards the mobile's off button.
Music! That's what was missing - the thing that had been alluding her - music! Some music to set the mood, just a little something to help create the required ambience...now what was Niall's favourite CD again? It was Coldplay, wasn't it? Distracted by her thoughts, Ainya eyes flickered over to the midi-system, which sat on the kitchen worktop, wedged tightly into the small space between the toaster and the breadbin.
Now where had she stacked their collection of CDs again?
Ainya had just begun to question herself, when the phone that she had so recently forgotten, suddenly sprang back into life in her hands again and began to trill away relentlessly. Almost without thought - one could almost call it an automated reaction - Ainya placed it to her ear and pressed the call-receive button.
"Hello?"
Ainya took several successive shallow breaths in an effort to control her rising emotion.
"Hello...hello...Ainya?"
"James?"
Ainya could picture his sigh of relief as clearly as though he were stood in her empty kitchen beside her. Letting her eyelids flutter closed, she instantly recalled to mind the perpetual worried expression that James always wore in those warm, brown eyes of his.
"Thank God, Ainya, I was worried about - you haven't picked up the last few times - I was about to com-"
"I told you earlier, James, I'm fine..."
"I know, I know, but today being what it is-"
A change of subject was called for. "Did you send the card?"
"Yes...wait...you said...you said no post had come."
"You shouldn't be sending me valentines, James. It's not right..."
"Ainya, stop changing the subject, please. I'm worried about you! Come down the-"
"I'm not coming to the pub with you, James. I told you so earlier. I'm waiting in...it was our special day...I'm waiting for..."
"Niall?"
Ainya remained silent. Even the mention of her boyfriend's name made it hurt to breathe.
"Niall wont come, Ainya...Niall's moved on...he's--"
"Goodbye, James..."
"Ainya, don't...don't hang up again. Come down The Dog and Duck, Ainya...we can chat - I-I'm here for you...."
"Don't ring again, James, I won't answer."
"Ainya, please...I worry about you!"
Click! Silence. Ainya had hung up, leaving her concerned friend on the other end of the line just to stand there, staring blankly at the phone in his hand.
James worried about Ainya, worried a lot. Ever since...well...since Niall had moved on, he had watched with growing concern as Ainya had withdrawn from the world at large, as she'd introverted within herself, as she had removed herself from her well-meaning friends and family, becoming more dis...disillusioned with each day that passed.
It hurt him to see her retreat within herself, pushing him and others away, as she tirelessly tried to protect her sanity from the reality of the everyday. He had watched...helplessly...as Ainya had recoiled within herself, retreating into illusions and daydreams that aided her fight against the harsh reality in which she went to extremes to avoid. He had observed her become a pale pastiche...a mere ghost of the girl that she had once been.
James had tried...had given his all and everything to help the girl - his best friend - the girl that he had grown to love over the years passed since their friendship begun in childhood. While other good friends of theirs had given on up on her, James had stood firm, refusing to let Ainya slip from his life.
A true friend didn't walk away - would never give up - would stand firm, and not run scared at the first signs of mental instability. And, as a friend, it was his job to be there for her, no matter how much she pushed him away.
James knew that his other mates though he was being a fool to himself, but James didn't care, because James knew that love was all that mattered, and James knew the true meaning of being a friend.
Heaving a sigh and reaching for his jacket strewn over the arm of the sofa, James thought of Ainya waiting alone in her cold, silent and empty flat.
Niall wouldn't be coming for Ainya tonight, no matter how much she believed that he would. However, James thought, with never-ending determination, as he tucked his mobile phone into the inner pocket of his well-worn jacket and made his way to the front door. I'll be there for her tomorrow...first thing in the morning. Help her pick up the pieces - I'll always be there for her....
And, as he let his feet lead him down to The Dog and Duck, James patted his pocket to make sure his mobile was still safely ensconced there and made a promise to himself that he would call her again before the night was over.
---
---
Ainya rolled the scarlet over her thin and taunt lips. Squinting at her countenance through her grimy and smudged hand mirror, she flicked her tongue over them nervously, wondering if it was her imagination, or did her lips used to be plumper and fuller once upon a time, a few thousand years ago.
The crimson red slash glare of colour stood out in stark contrast to the pale pallor of the planes of her cheekbones, and the black kohl that rimmed her eyes did nothing to brighten the dullness that dwelt within the them. Even the concealer dotted under her eyes, did nothing to secrete the dark circles that lingered beneath them.
Ainya had painted herself a mask, another face to hide behind. The person reflected back at her bore the face of someone unfamiliar. But, it didn't matter...because nothing mattered anymore, but Niall. And Niall had always liked her made-up and beautiful, wearing the facade of a stranger.
It will do, it has to do....
Snapping her compact mirror shut, Ainya scraped her chair noisily over the kitchen tiles and stood up. A cursory glance over at the clock on the wall told her it was now a quarter past six...that it was time to finish her preparations. She smoothed out the crumples from her dress, the pretty, white one that Niall had always liked, and moved over to the sink.
Ducking down, she opened the cupboard door beneath, fumbled and rummaged, shifted and moved things until she found what she was looking for. Then pulling out a tattered-edged box, Ainya sat back, crossed her legs, and began her search in earnest.
CD after CD, disc after disc, Ainya looked through her little box of musical memories. The Joshua Tree. Ainya glanced at its plastic cover with a fond smile. Niall had always hated that album and had often made fun of her, saying that her musical taste was closer to that of a baboon rather than to the likes of a fine music connoisseur.
Another CD fell into her hands. Radiohead. A band they had both liked. Ainya closed her eyes and pictured the first time they had been to see them play: She could see it all, the dimming lights, the first strains of the thrumming guitar, Thom Yorke walking out onto the stage.
"Oh!" she laughed out loud, she had forgotten this obscure little group. One of Niall's favourites, Ainya had never been able to abide the whiney voice of the singer from Suede. Tossing the CD back in the box, she rummaged once again for more memories.
Pulp, Placebo, The Levellers...R.E.M, The Cult, Stone Roses...Blur. Memory after memory, one compact disc after another, Ainya fell into thrall of remembrance. Dust smudging her face, speckles of dirt covering her dress, memories and time just flew by. Ainya was not just hunting around for a certain CD; neither was she searching for lost recollections. No, Ainya was looking for so much more than that, Ainya was trying to find some inner peace within herself.
...
...
The CD skipped, constantly repeating the same refrain, again and again; a soft breeze blew, the candle flickered and spluttered out, leaving only the soft shine of moonlight outside to light the dimness of the tiny room. Somewhere outside a cat yowled, shattering through the night. A motorbike passed, screeching it tyres in its wake. High-pitched laughter screamed out, loud and happy, as eager voices could be heard from even a street away, and then...silence.
Ainya was not quite sure which of these things had woken her up, but as she had awakened, rubbing at her eyes and massaging her aching temples, it was the surrounding silence that besieged her. That, and the vague feeling she was being watched.
Moving her hands behind her neck, she stretched, and began to try to massage the weariness out of her bones as her eyes flickered around the room Was someone there - had Niall come? What was that shadow by the door?
"N-Niall?"
Nothing. The only sound that could be heard was the short gasps of her cold, harsh breath.
"N-Niall, is that you? Are you there?"
Was that a footstep she heard?
"Niall..."
Her words trailed off into the silence. Cold and empty, it threatened to consume every last ounce her sanity and mocked at her burgeoning hope. Ainya's hands flew to her face, hiding the first teardrops beginning their first thin trails down her cheek.
"Ainya."
Ainya froze, not daring to hope. This must be some trick, or some new twisted form of her insanity.
"Ainya, I'm here...I came."
"Niall," she whispered, slowly lowering her splayed palms in time to see the shadow from just beyond the door step forward and morph into the recognisable form of her boyfriend. "Y-You came? You're really here?"
"Yes, I'm here, Ainya...I think it's about time you and me had a little chat...."
Getting to her feet, and staggering a little from the slight cramp in her lower limbs, which had come from falling asleep in such a strange position, Ainya stumbled jerkily forward with a smile of delighted disbelief.
"They said you wouldn't come, but you're here. They were wrong, James was wrong, you...you came. You remembered!"
"Of course, I..." Niall moved towards the table she had set for two earlier, his pale hand reaching out to the nearest chair. "Well, of course, I remember, Ainya - how could I forget our special night?"
His words were warm, but his smile betrayed a strange tightness, and instead of taking the chair out and sitting on it, as Ainya had expected him to, he merely motioned for Ainya to sit.
"Sit down, Ainya, we need to talk..."
Ignoring the proffered chair, Ainya's eyes seemed to only see (and hear) Niall. "It's our anniversary, three years, I knew you wouldn't forget...I knew you would come."
Stood across from her, Niall's pallid brow creased into a small frown. He motioned to the chair again. "Ainya, are you listening to me? Please sit, we need to talk..."
Ainya blinked, and some of the haze seemed to filter away from her eyes. Niall was acting strange...acting different. Why this insistence on talking - what was the meaning behind that small frown on his face? He still loved her, didn't he? He'd come when she had needed him, he was here - with her - surely that had to mean something? He couldn't be...?
Ainya stopped her thoughts right there, refusing to think over the ramifications that that road could lead down. She didn't want to venture back in to that unholy place, she was sick and tired of the ravages of doubt - Niall was here and that was all that mattered, that was all she would let matter. Her legs threatened to buckle from underneath her. Feeling suddenly a little sick and very afraid, Ainya groped blindly for a safety net and sank into the pulled out chair.
"N-Niall, you still love me don't you?"
"You need to move on, Ainya..."
"No...no...you d-don't mean that!" Reaching forward and grasping for his hand, Ainya was startled when he jerked his pale fingertips quickly back out of her reach. Her eyes widened and filled with surprised hurt. "I-If you do mean it, th-then why are you here? Why would you come back to me if you love me anymore?"
"I did...and I still do love you, Ainya, but the time has come for you to move on. You have to remember to live, to love anew, to stop living in the past. I can't be there for you, Ainya, not anymore. You have to stop living in the past. Remember, it's always the simple tastes of yesterday, which taint the tomorrows that come..."
"Do you remember our last anniversary, when you cooked for me because you couldn't afford to buy me a meal? You burnt the roast, and the potatoes were so hard they could chip your teeth!"
"Stop living in your memories, Ainya..."
Barking out a harsh laugh that sounded more like a sob of despair, Ainya continued with her reminiscences, trying her hardest to block his words from entering her head. She couldn't hear them - she wouldn't hear them - she would lock then away in a box, unheard, while endeavouring to regather the last shreds of her sanity.
"It was Valentines Day, it was perfect - you couldn't afford a proper present, so you wrote me a mushy poem instead. I wore this same dress, remember? It's the one you liked the best. You always told me that I looked beautiful in it..."
"Yes, I remember, Ainya, but it was far from prefect...we fought."
No! She didn't want to hear this...she wasn't ready, would never be ready. Ainya struggled to recall more gentler memories. "Do you remember the first time you kissed me...the first time we made love? Can you remember how you used to hold me, Niall...the way it felt when we pressed our bodies together?"
"I walked out, went down to the pub, left you crying in the kitchen...."
Niall was refusing to listen, was using her own devious devices against her. But, oh, she didn't want to remember this.
"No, Niall, please...don't!" Ainya lifted her imploring eyes up to his transparent ones and became instantly absorbed. Niall continued heedless, though.
"You yelled at me, called me names. Accused me of being a cheap-skate, of spending all my money on beer. You were upset because I didn't get you an anniversary present, you thought my heated replies were just excuses. I'd finally had enough...I left you."
"No, Niall, stop! I don't want to hear anymore!" Pressing the heels of her palms to he ears, Ainya tried her best to block the onslaught of his words out.
"I left, went down to the pub. Sat with Karl, Adrian and James, downed a few pints..."
"Oh, nooooooo...no," it came out as a low, guttural moan, "don't, don't say no more!"
"We had a bit of a laugh, moaned a bit. The rest of the gang showed up. Their dates appeared, the laughter got more raucous, my head started to pound a bit...I felt a bit drunk."
"I won't listen, I wont!"
"They were going clubbing, invited me along. But, the guilt was finally kicking in, so I refused. I wanted to get back home to you, to somehow make it all up. I said my goodbyes, smiled good-naturedly at all their jokes about being under the thumb. It was all done in the spirit of fun...you remember, don't you, Ainya, you remember what our crowd was like?"
Hand still clamped tightly over her ears, with her eyes squeezed shut, Ainya only shook her head slowly, refusing to let his words sink in.
"Well, as I said," Niall didn't let her lack of answer distract him and ploughed on with a look of determination in his sad eyes. "I waved my goodbyes, gave Karl the finger - that wanker always took it one step too far! Ran into the 24 hour shop down the road, picked up the cheapest bouquet of wilting flowers and a cheap bottle of wine. Made my way to the crossing, thinking over what I was going to say to you...crossed the road..."
Ainya let her hands drop, and looked up at Niall desperately. "No, Niall, no more...don't do this to me!"
"I was crossing the road, feeling just a bit wobbly from the three lagers that I'd downed," Niall was relentless, he could afford her no pity, "someone shouted my name, Karl, I think it was. I looked over to see them all tumbling out of the pub, all set for a night of clubbing -.I gave them a cheesy grin and a wave - my head felt a bit light - their laughter raised my spirits - I didn't hear the rev of the motorbike as it approached..."
"No!"
"The motorbike hit me head on...."
Ainya hunched forward and buried her head in her arms. The first hot tear drops began to fall as his words began to sink in.
"...I was flung across the road, my head hit the ground. I'd been hit by a motorbike doing 98 mph...the kid riding was high on drugs..."
The hot tears turned into harsh sobs. Her shoulders shook, her stomach coiled up tightly, she felt sick close to retching.
"...I died instantly."
The floodgates opened, and Ainya let every felling of grief, anger, guilt, and hate that she'd been repressing sweep over her: choking over her sobs, gasping out wordless moans, Ainya let her cries ring out as unabashed as a child would. The grief that had consumed for a year had finally found an outlet, and now that she had started on this path, she knew she wouldn't be able to stop these cries of suppressed anguish until the very last hitched tear had been wrung out of her.
"Live, Ainya, forget the past...it's time for you to move on."
Her sobs intensified, her tight throat ached with the loss, and she choked out inconsolable wails.
as she finally began to accept the fact that he really was gone...had left her forever.
"Learn to love again, Ainya - do it for me. Don't let all your tomorrows slip away...."
Ainya continued grieve to the sound of his soft voice and placating words, continued to sob until her eyes became dry and sore. Crying until there were no tears to left to spill, and her heaving shoulders stilled, Anita's thoughts turned to dark void that seemed to welcome her. Dark and comforting in its silence, Ainya could not resist its welcoming pull. She fell in gladly, feeling safe in the darkness that consumed her, making everything, including Niall's soft tones, fade and become obscure amid the black.
...
...
Ainya wasn't sure what had awakened her - had she even fell asleep? - but, as she slowly came round to consciousness, she came to the conclusion that it must be that buzzing sound that seemed to be coming from the direction of her breadbin.
I've been dreaming?
Ainya couldn't quite remember what she'd been dreaming about and, to tell the truth, wasn't even sure if she'd actually fallen asleep in the first place. Her brain felt fogged - so confused - and she couldn't shake the feeling that she was failing to remember something very important. Ainya struggled to remember, while rubbing at her sore and heavy eyes.
She'd been sorting through the CD box, been reminiscing...had fallen asleep, and then Niall had come. Niall...? Niall?!! Ainya jumped out of her chair and was poised at the wall socket, hand hovering over the light switch, within seconds.
She switched the light on after a moments pause, and her tiny kitchen was instantly flooded with its harsh artificial light as her wide-eyes flickered round nervously.
"Niall," she called, "Niall, are you there?"
Of course he's not here, he died...he's gone... answered the more rational side of her brain. You've just been dreaming, Ainya, that's all.
"Yes, that's it, I was dreaming." Ainya spoke out loud, letting the rational side of her brain take over Niall hadn't come back to her, the dead never came back...there was no such thing as ghosts - Niall, himself, said so - it had just been a dream, a vivid one, true, but a dream none the less.
Then why did I wake up sitting at the table, when I'd fallen asleep on the floor?
Because...because. Ainya's heartbeat thrummed and her pulse raced erratically as she struggled to come up with an answer to her internal questioning. Because... Niall's voice suddenly popped into her mind, as an old, lost memory returned to her.
"Bloody hell, Ainya, why didn't you tell me that you sleepwalked? You nearly flooded the flat before I found you trying to shove my Placebo CD into the toaster." He threw his head back and laughed. "Why didn't you tell me that I was moving in with a sleepwalking lunatic..."
There was her rational answer, she'd been sleepwalking. As the memory began to fade, Ainya began to ruminate over the ramifications of her answer. Ainya had always sleepwalked when she was stressed, and - heaven knows! - the last few days had been more than stressful.
What with the eminent arrival of the anniversary of his death - and what with her repressed emotions, too - it really wasn't surprising, all things considered, that she ended up doing a spot of sleepwalking on tonight of all nights.
I've been under duress, so depressed. No wonder I sleepwalked tonight. The dream...well, it was only to be expected. I've been suppressing things for so long, everything was bound to all spill out at some point. Something had to break....
Ainya paused mid-thought. Something had changed - the tight iron band that had been wrapped around her heart and lungs had loosened - she didn't feel that disabling inability to breath anymore. She felt lighter, as if though some dreadful weight had been lifted her, she felt sane again. The fear she felt inside had receded and the hurt had diminished, no longer threatening to engulf her with grief every time her thoughts turned to Niall.
Not that she didn't still feel a dull ache, or that a little piece of herself was still missing. It was just - Move on, Ainya, go and find your tomorrows - that it simply didn't hurt so much anymore. The dream must have acted as some odd sort of therapy - she had reached the edge, jumped over it, and instead of drowning she had learnt to swim.
Or you may have just finally lost your mind....
Ainya paused for a moment, considering what this voice of hers had to say. "No," she whispered aloud as the realisation sunk into her bones, "not mad, not anymore. If anything, I think, I've just pulled myself back from the brink..."
Because, no one could her previous behaviour sane, could they? Shoving all their shared CDs in a box under the kitchen sink, hiding all the photos of them together behind the cistern in the bathroom. Giving up university, hiding away inside, pushing well-meaning friends away, her endless sleepness nights, none of this was sane behaviour surely?
Ainya became lost in her musings. For it was all very well thinking of moving on and reforming something that bore a vague resemblance to a life, but was she ready for it? Or, more importantly, would she be able to cope, and how soon would it be until she had her first relapse?
Could she handle the enormity of facing up to life, while letting go of the memories that haunted her?
Niall had been her life, her lover, her everything, and there was still a part of her that didn't want to let go, that didn't want to lose any of those most important memories. They were her past - their past together - the only thing she had left to remember him by.
Despite this, though, deep down in side, a small part of Ainya knew that letting go didn't mean forgetting, that it just meant moving on. And that now it was down to herself to decide if she had the inner strength to see it through, to carry on.
But, had she pushed away all her friends - was it too late - who out there would be willing to help her through the dark times...James?
She could have laughed out loud. Of course, why hadn't she-?! The buzzing sound that had awakened her earlier suddenly resumed, shattering her train of thought. Ainya started. Then, with a strange look of resolution, strode quickly over to the breadbin and pulled out her phone.
"James...?" Ainya flipped open her mobile, answering on it's fourth ring.
"Ainya, thank God! I've been so worried, I must have rang about a thousand times - are you alright?"
"Calm down, James, I'm fine." It slowly dawned on Ainya that this time she truly meant it when she spoke those words, which, in turn, made her more resolved to forming a decision.
"Ainya...Ainya, are you still there?"
"I'm coming down the pub, James. I'll meet you there in ten minutes."
Her decision made, Ainya strode out the kitchen, into the hall, grabbing her coat and her keys as she made her way purposefully to her front door.
"Wait, a minute...you're coming? Ainya, are you sure your alright? Do you want me to come down and meet you at the flat?"
She was out the door, riding high on hope and momentum. "No, James, I'll comes to you - did anyone ever tell you that you're such a clucking mother hen?" Ainya teased, as the door swung to and locked behind her.
"I'll meet you half-way then, okay? Oh, and, Ainya, I hope you said clucking and it wasn't a mishearing you...."
Actually snorting out a laugh into the phone, Ainya stepped out into the street with a small smile on her face. "Okay, James, I'll meet you half way..."
"Are you sure you're al-?"
Ainya heard the concern and doubt in his words. Her steps faltered. Was she alright? Was she sure that she was doing the right thing?
"Ainya?"
"Ye-yes, I'm fine, James, just fine. I'm on my way now."
Then, clicking off her phone, Ainya moved forward again with a new certainty in her steps. She may not be a hundred percent sure of how the future would turn out, and she knew there would be time when she would falter. But, she was certain of one thing: whatever happened, no matter what path chose destiny lead her down - she was taking that first step - she finally felt alive again.
She was leaving behind her tastes of yesterday, and stepping into her brand new tomorrow.
FIN
Click for Epilogue
Epilogue
The spectre of her past, watched as she walked with a new spring in her step down the street. He smiled, strong enough in his love for her to be happy to watch her walk away from him and the memories that they had once shared.
'Goodbye, Ainya,' he whispered, 'live well! Be happy, go and find your tomorrows to come....'
Then, with one last glance, he shimmered and faded, becoming dust particles that danced under the moonshine.
Thank you all for reading, once again, I hope you all enjoyed it
*huggles*
Emmie
