Julie and Vincent's Deal

2011

They strolled around, leaning towards the photos with their shoulders. Tilting their heads at the pictures of heads. As they maneuvered through the groups of students and families, they stayed touching; fingers intertwined. The room was dark and Julie liked the sensation of walking through the sprays of spotlights that illuminated the exhibits.

They moved closer to a poster of a woman wearing a hat, her fist in the air. He held the small of her back and whispered in her ear. Julie felt the hairs on her neck stand on end.

‘These are cool… but yours are better.’

2023

The pub roared. It was a Spring Sunday and Julie wondered if the light streaming in through the window was amplifying the sound. Chatter, clinking of plates, children’s delight-filled squeals. Julie felt sick. Looking around the table, she watched her friends watch Vincent. Their mouths open, beads of sweat collecting on their hairlines, hanging on every word he says. Vincent was doing one of his bits. 

2011

Perched on a bench in the corner of the room, he gently picked a piece of fluff off her coat. 

‘They were brothers!’ He delivered the punchline in a hush tone, careful not to aggravate the museum staff.

Julie cackled and slammed her palm over her mouth to mute it. He loved it when she shrieked and relished the buzz it left in his head. 

She nuzzled into him, ‘Make me a deal.’

‘Okay’

‘Let's never retell the same story twice.’

‘Never? For the rest of time?’

‘We have to change little details, add characters. I don’t want this to get old. Keep it new. Forever.’

‘I feel like I’m making a deal with the devil.’, he teased.

‘Promise me.’

‘I promise.’

2023

It was in that moment, she felt the love snub out and die. She watched Vincent’s hands gripped around his pint glass, sloshing it side to side as he performed. She leant on her palm with her chin, noticing for a brief moment, how the pupils in his eyes dilated when the room was on him. There it went, like a paper turning to ash, her feelings for him waned and withered and disappeared into nothingness. Her head was thick with daytime drinking. 

She watched a tree outside being thrown about by the wind and fancied being thrown about herself. Laughter erupted and she was pulled back into the room. 

Vincent was gleaming, ‘S’cuse me while I go relieve myself’, he said standing up and pushing his chair back with his legs. She rolled her eyes. 

He squeezed past her, ‘Notice I added a character, babe?’

She gritted her teeth, ‘Yes’.

He pinched her shoulders, ‘Never repeat a story.’ and he finally moved away.

The table had returned to chatting in small groups and pairs. Opposite, her friend Ava rocked a small child on her knee, her arms wrapped around its tummy. Julie watched a line of green sludge run down from its nostril into its mouth. 

‘Getting broody, Julie?’ Ava asked, proud of the lump gurgling on her lap. 

Julie burst into hysterical laughter. Her head whipped back, mouth wide, like a dam giving way to floods. 

Unsure how to receive her reaction, Ava tried again, ‘Twelve years is it? Haven’t you talked about starting a family?’. 

Julie felt a pull in her chest, a gray spot drilling into her ribs, growing bigger and bigger. 

‘You know what, Ava?’

‘What hun?’

‘I used to paint. I was really good.’

‘What?’

‘I got into art school, nearly moved to France! Imagine.’ Julie's eyes drifted and landed on a young woman at the bar. She was waiting for someone. Julie wondered if the young woman was waiting for a date and what decisions she’d make to adapt to their way of life. If one day, after years of rolling along, that young woman might decide to give up her relationship in order to carry out her dreams.