Dialogue-only Short Story Competition - Winner

‘Good Morning. Could you move your rucksack from the bench so I can sit down? My knees aren’t what they used to be.’
‘Sorry.’
‘The bus is so infrequent now that I think we might have a long wait and I can’t stand for long. Going into town for the day?’
‘Something like that.’
‘Have you lived in this village long?’
‘My whole boring life.’
‘Ah, I’m sure it’s not boring. You’ve barely started your life. Mine is almost over. Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m very content here in the village. I just wish the shop hadn’t closed. It was useful for milk and bread. After my wife died, I used to walk there for a paper and a quiet chat with the shopkeeper. Now I have to catch the bus into town and it takes me all day. I only go into town once a week because of the hassle. So most days I’m home with only the daffodils to talk to.’
‘I think that sounds nice.’
‘Yes, I suppose you might. The young are always busy with family, school and activities. Speaking of school... shouldn’t you be there now?’
‘I hate school.’
‘Do you? I never really had the chance to love it or hate it. My Dad died when I was young. Mum was desperate so I left school and started at the factory. You could do that in those days. We needed the money. After tea in the evenings, I would look over my sister’s shoulder while she did her homework to see what I was missing.’
‘You weren’t missing much.’
‘That’s not how I saw it at the time. Every morning I wished I was walking through the school gates, not the factory ones. My Mum knew that too and always gave me books for Christmas and my birthday. Maybe it was her way of saying sorry. But someone needed to earn money and that ended up being me.’
‘Did you stay at the factory?’
‘Yes, I was there my entire working life. I was good at my job and I learned to be satisfied with my lot. I wasn’t envious of my school friends who moved beyond the village and became businessmen or doctors. My sister went on to be a teacher and had a very nice career out of it. I only managed to make it up to deputy foreman at the factory. Peggy was proud but I knew that I could have done better if I’d had more schooling.’
‘Was Peggy your wife?’
‘Yes. We were married for fifty years.’
‘You must miss her.’
‘I miss her every day but I get by. I have my garden and the crossword. My daughter Elizabeth checks up on me.’
‘Does Elizabeth live here too?’
‘Oh, no. Elizabeth lives in London. She got out of the village as quickly as she could.’
‘I understand the feeling.’
‘I don’t. I like living here and never wanted to leave. That was a bone of contention between Elizabeth and me when she was your age. We used to have a lot of arguments.’
‘I argue with my parents too.’
‘All teenagers and parents argue.’
‘My parents are horrible. They don’t understand me at all.’
‘I didn’t understand Elizabeth at the time, that’s for sure. She and I used to have enormous rows. As soon as I came in a room, we’d start bickering. Peggy called it the Year of the Slamming Doors. I can laugh about it now, but at the time it was agony.’
‘My parents don’t seem to be in agony. They just yell.’
‘Thinking back on it, I yelled because I was so frustrated. Peggy was better than me at listening to Elizabeth but I couldn’t listen to her ridiculous plans without getting mad.’
‘Why?’
‘I saw so much potential in Elizabeth. I wanted her to have the life that I never had. Peggy and I wanted her to do well at school so she could go to university.’
‘What did she want to do?’
‘She was to be an artist. She couldn’t be bothered to make an effort in English and Mathematics, even though she was a smart girl. All she cared about was painting and drawing. She wanted to go to art school in London. I didn’t know anything about that. I told her I thought it was the worst thing she could possibly do. She would waste years of her young life and never get a good job.’
‘What did she say to that?’
‘She said I was out of touch. She said I didn’t have an artistic bone in my body and didn’t understand. She said I’d never understand and that there was no point talking to me about it.’
‘What happened?’
‘I stopped talking to her. She stopped talking to me. She was right; I didn’t understand, I admit that now. Her choices and plans were so alien to me that it was like we were speaking a different language. Poor Peggy was caught in the middle of our silent stand off. She warned me that I needed to try to see Elizabeth’s perspective but I didn’t listen. And then the worst thing possible happened.’
‘What?’
‘Elizabeth ran away. She packed a bag, just like the one you have here, and left. She went out one day and didn’t come back. My dear, you look very pale. Are you okay? We’ve been sitting a long time at this bus stop and I’ve been prattling on. I do tend to talk a lot. I’ll be quiet.’
‘No, please go on. What happened next?’
‘Well, Peggy and I were out of our minds with worry. We called everyone we knew. I went to London but it was no good. I didn’t even know where to start looking. Peggy was upset and blamed me. She went to stay at her sister’s house for a month.’
‘A month?’
‘It was the darkest, saddest month of my life. It was my own fault. Peggy had warned me that all the arguing would drive Elizabeth away and it did. Then Peggy left. I hit rock bottom. There were moments when I contemplated suicide.’
‘You did?’
‘Yes, that’s how bad I felt. A parent only wants what is best for their child but sometimes it’s not easy to know what’s best. Elizabeth’s dreams didn’t match mine. I was so determined to make her agree to my point of view, that I didn’t consider hers. I made her run away. My stubbornness caused her to run away.’
‘She must have been stubborn too. Maybe her stubbornness was part of the problem.’
‘You may be right. It’s so long ago now.’
‘What happened?’
‘One evening, I picked up the telephone and heard Elizabeth’s voice. You have no idea how relieved I was. I called Peggy and told her the good news. Elizabeth was in London and okay.’
‘Did she come home?’
‘No. She enrolled in art school and stayed in London. Peggy and I went down on the train to see her. We found her in a bedsit. Over a cup of tea we agreed to a truce. What could I do? I disagreed with the whole London and art school plan but I loved Elizabeth. I almost lost my daughter and wife over my stubbornness and didn’t want to make that mistake again.’
‘Did she ever come home?’
‘Only to visit. By the end of art school, she was a young woman with grand plans. There wasn’t anything in the village for her. She embarked on her adult life. You’re not far off that age yourself and one day will make your own choices about your life. Don’t be so hard on your parents. It’s difficult for them to let go. It’s hard to let your children follow their own way in the world, especially if that way is different to your own.’
‘Did Elizabeth find her own way?’
‘My word she did! Her first job after art school was as a set designer in a theatre. She’s never looked back. She’s worked in theatres up and down the country. She creates amazing sets for plays and musicals and won awards for them. One of her sets is in a museum.’
‘She’s done all right then?’
‘More than alright. Peggy was so proud of her. And I am too. Elizabeth knew as a teenager what she wanted to do and did it. All those arguments at the time were wasted breath. A lot of heartache could have been averted if I had listened to her more.’
‘Maybe she needed to listen to you. She didn’t understand why you were so against her plans.’
‘It’s all water under the bridge now.’
‘Here comes the bus.’
‘Finally. I was just starting to get stiff and cold. If I don’t see you when we get to town, I hope you have a good day.’
‘I’ve changed my mind. I’m not going into town.’
‘I hope I haven’t put you off with my chatter. I do tend to go on a bit.’
‘No, actually, you’ve been helpful. I’ve decided to go home.’
‘Cheerio. I might meet you at the bus stop another time then.’