THE BRIDE
Violet watched as her fiancé, his face twisted in a scowl, lashed out and hit Mabel, who had accidentally trodden her muddy paw on his gleaming white trainers. Bullet tried to step in for the little one, but instead received a hearty whack across the snout from a heavy leather lead. At that moment, Violet finally understood why her cats and dogs always bristled whenever Matthew was around.
Violet sat by the window, deep in thought. It was a winter’s evening, and the lights in the terraced houses glowed warmly through the darkness. She couldnt have cared less whether it was night or day she had more pressing worries rolling about in her mind.
By all accounts, she had everything: a flat, a decent job, and, frankly, she was doing no worse than anyone else. Yet, when it came to romance, she had the exact luck of someone whos just trodden on a plug. The proverbial clock was ticking, all her old school friends were married off and raising children, and she was still the odd one out perpetually single.
Would she, an intelligent and rather pretty woman, end up going through life as some sort of spinster cliché? Why should she be worse off than anyone else, she wondered while stroking her sympathetic, fluffy companions who nestled around her.
Violet lost her parents quite early on one after the other leaving her to be raised by her grandmother. She had made a point of deciding to go into medicine. After finishing school, she applied to medical school but was pipped at the post. She settled for the local health college instead and now worked long, draining shifts with the ambulance crew.
Her grandmother, who adored her, had moved to her own little house at the edge of town, in the hope that her precious granddaughter would finally have some luck in her personal life, but it wasnt happening.
As a child, Violet had dreamt of a cat and a dog, but her mothers fur allergy got in the way. They discovered this only after Violet brought home a stray kitten with a proud, shining face; that very evening, her mum had a bout of asthma. Gingerbread, as the kitten was called, had to be shipped off to Grandmas.
After her parents died, another cat Timmy, found shivering by the bins joined the household. Violet desperately wanted a dog too, but her nan shied away from the responsibility.
Now, instead of a significant other, Violet had five loyal, loving pals and without them, life wouldve been unbearably dreary. Bullet, a mutt, had been a flea-bitten scrap of a pup shivering by the supermarket in the snow, making desperate attempts to slip past the security guard and into the warm shop until Violet stuffed her into her tote and hurried her home.
Bullet was bright and full of beans, dashing about like a fighter jet, hence the name. Straight away, she became best mates with Timmy.
And the parade didnt stop there. Soon another figure appeared: Mabel, a dachshund. Her previous owners whod just landed a posh new flat decided she would ruin the sparkling new décor and dumped the poor soul outside during the winter, then scarpered.
Mabel, clever but bow-legged, quickly figured out shed been left behind and spent a tearful week making repeated attempts to sneak into the warm communal stairwell, until Violet heard about her from the local dog-walkers and brought her home, lovingly tending to her frostbitten ears.
Mabel turned out to be the perfect house dog sensible, serene, and orderly, like a middle-aged lady who always knows where the biscuit tin is. In cold weather, Violet tied a warm scarf around Mabel’s ears. The dachshund didnt mind in the least, though she looked utterly ridiculous, shuffling along like a disciplined little pensioner.
Then, entirely on her own terms, came Miss Nicola. One morning, as Violet dashed out for an early shift, a living snowball with a raspy yowl rolled against her legs. Hungry and near-frozen, it turned out to be a troubled cat. Violet ushered her inside, plonked her by the radiator with two cheese-and-ham sarnies, and stuck a note to the wall: Please dont chuck the cat out! Ill be back after my shift; any mess, Ill deal with it. Violet, Flat 5.
At home, Violet named her new recruit Nicola, after her own middle name much to the cats apparent satisfaction. Nicola was a stately, businesslike feline with an air of authority and a deep sense of propriety despite a life on the streets. She quickly installed herself as head honcho, ruling the house with the iron paw of a very clean matron.
Later still appeared a kitten, Michael, whom Violet rescued from a pair of crows in the park. Even as an adult cat, Michael remained gentle and quiet. He never fought or argued, accepting everyone as they were. The five former strays lived in harmony, always careful not to upset their beloved mistress.
Violet worshipped her little gang, but she knew very well that not all would-be boyfriends would be thrilled to find themselves sharing a flat with such an entourage. Nan often sighed and warned her:
Oh, Violet, love, why do you need quite so many? Two dogs and three cats! Its all well and good your having a roomy place, but most young chaps arent mad about pets, and theyll bolt at the thought of the extra palaver.
Well, then its not meant to be, Nan. No sense in forcing it.
And so it went. Violet met Alex when she first started working, and dated him for half a year before learning he couldnt stomach pets couldnt even abide them in the room. When they split up, Violet barely blinked.
Next came Matthew a charming chap, cheerful and winning, even a county swimming champ. He knew how to put on a show; hed walk Bullet and Mabel sometimes, and pretty soon, they were talking wedding plans.
But the animals seemed to know something. Bullet would bare her teeth at him, Mabel would hide behind Violet and bark, the cats gave him a wide berth, and Miss Nicola would actually hiss if he dared touch her.
One evening, making dinner, Violet popped outside to see cheery Matthew with a face like thunder strike Mabel for dirtying his trainers. Bullets attempt to defend Mabel was met with a sharp smack from the leather lead.
Violet sprinted down, snatched the leads from her suddenly sheepish fiancé, and gave him a healthy smack across his hands.
Violet! What are you playing at? That hurt!
You think pain is only for you? How dare you hit my animals? Do I get on your nerves, too? Going to hit me next?
Oh, I was only teaching her some manners keep out from under my feet.
Get out. And dont ever come back!
Well, thank goodness! Ive no desire to live in a ruddy zoo anyway, Matthew snorted. Collecting layabouts, are you?
Shaken by the collapse of her hopes, Violet brooded for weeks over her exs cruel words. After a year together, shed grown convinced Matthew was her future, but shed never truly seen what lay behind that shiny, affable mask.
A year passed, and, resigning herself to life alone, Violet fell for someone real, so much so that a day apart felt interminable.
They met by chance. Alexander, a trauma doctor, was on night duty when Violet wheeled in a crash victim. When Alexander looked up and met her eyes, Violet felt the shock straight through her. Shed never believed in love at first sight; shed always thought it belonged in West End musicals but clearly, shed been wrong.
Using his connections, Alexander tracked down her number and rang her the very next evening. They began to see each other.
Violet could tell from his manner quiet and solid that Alexander was taking things seriously, and she was both elated and terrified it might crumble like before. This time, she decided to hide the pets until after shed reeled him in.
Six months passed. Alexander introduced her to his sister, Sophie, and her husband. They visited his parents in Kent using Alexanders car, and she introduced him to her nan.
Shed been to his tidy, one-bedroom bachelor pad countless times, but hed never set foot in hers. Eventually, the string of excuses visiting relatives, a bout of flu wore thin. The time had come: either confess to her household zoo or keep the farce going.
Violet made up her mind. She bundled up her entire collection pets, baskets, scratching posts and hauled them off to her grandmothers house. Bullet and Mabel had been there before, the cats adored Nan, and Gingerbread was actually best friends with her, so itd do for a few days. Nan, however, was unimpressed.
Violet, sweetheart, you cant do this! Alexanders a good man, and youre starting off with a lie.
Nan, I love him so much. If he dumps me because of them, I couldnt bear it. But I couldnt let go of them either. You know its true.
Very well, but youd best visit every day you arent at work. But, darling, lies never end well.
So, every day after work, Violet trudged to visit her furry team. Alexanders suspicions faded, and he eventually proposed, dropping to one knee with a heart-shaped amethyst ring.
Full disclosure, Im not exactly bringing a chest of gold to this marriage! Violet laughed, her joy bubbling over.
They set a date. The big day loomed, dresses had to be found, restaurants booked, and seating plans wrangled. By the time Violet and Alexander made it to her flat that afternoon, they were knackered and still had to confirm who was coming to the wedding and what to feed everyone. They wolfed down a quick meal, had tea with éclairs, and went over guest lists.
In a hurry, Alexander grabbed the bin to toss out rubbish but found it spilling over. As he took it out, packets of dog and cat food tumbled out.
Whats all this, then?
Oh, that? Not important, Sash. Never mind, Ill explain later.
She deftly moved the conversation along.
Meanwhile, at Nans, shed let Bullet and Mabel out for a romp in the garden while she spoke to the postwoman about her pension. Distracted, the postwoman left the garden gate and door open. Nicola, Timmy, and Michael slipped into the street in a flash (Gingerbread, the wise one, remained curled up next to the radiator). The dogs and cats quickly gathered, then trotted off, Bullet leading from the front, Nicola at the rear, making sure nobody got left behind.
Passersby looked on in astonishment at the odd parade especially as they waited at the crossings. Bullet, with her photographic memory, navigated the pint-sized procession back home to their favourite human. They drew grins and chuckles, with Mabels scarf askew as she trotted behind.
Back at Violets, Alexander heard barking and scratching at the door. He opened it and stood, gobsmacked, as in swept Mabel in her scarf, then Bullet, and then all the cats, fluffed up with snow and high spirits.
Blimey, whats all this? A rescue party?
Violet dashed over, slumped onto the shoe bench, buried her face in her hands, and sobbed without a sound.
Violet these yours? All of them?
Yes. They were staying with Nan.
Sensing he was the cause of their persons tears, Bullet and Mabel began to bark furiously at Alexander, and Nicola hissed menacingly.
Thought you said you had no dowry, he quipped, dryly.
Alexander pulled on his coat, went out, got in his car, and drove away. Violet rang Nan to reassure her, not wanting to cause more fuss.
Thats that, thought Violet. No wedding serves me right, really. She cuddled her missed pets, feeling utterly wretched with guilt and self-pity. She didnt even call to explain it all seemed pointless now. Her face ached from crying.
After a few hours, the bell rang. On the doorstep stood Alexander, arms laden with premium cat and dog food bags. He smiled, dumped them gently in the hall, and left again.
Dont lock up be back in a minute.
Soon he returned, leading a dachshund in a red jacket on a lead.
This is my dog, Nicky. And this Maria is my cat; shes been with Sophie, he said, pulling out a ginger cat from under his coat. Reckon youve got room in your crew?
Years on, Violet Nicola and Alexander James often tell this story and laugh about it. Whos to say if it werent for that dowry, perhaps their lives wouldve turned out completely differently, and maybe they wouldnt have had all those wonderful years together at all.
