Optima Magazine

An entry into our 2011 Short Story Competition on the theme of Starlight

My name is Anna but it should be Ariadne. Do you know Ariadne’s story? In ancient times she was the lovely daughter of Minos, King of Crete. One day Prince Theseus arrived from Athens; his mission was to kill the Minotaur – the half-man, half-bull monster whose food was human flesh. Ariadne fell in love with Theseus; for her one glance was enough. She gave him a ball of thread so that once he had destroyed the monster, he could escape from the Labyrinth, the maze which was the monster’s lair and prison. Then, together Ariadne and Theseus departed from Crete; together they sailed in a mighty ship until they reached the island of Naxos in the Aegean Sea. There on the beach Theseus cruelly abandoned Ariadne. Though she loved him passionately, he left her weeping, frightened and alone.

Once, not so long ago, I too helped a man in need and I too was abandoned. Once, like Ariadne, I proved to be a poor judge of character, and, again like Ariadne, I was too trusting, too hopeful, too loving. This is my story. Tom and I had been together for six months when, as far as I was concerned, disaster struck: separation. There was no evil monster but a new job in London, promotion to Head Office. Tom worked in advertising; he was bright, talented and ambitious and deserved this opportunity. Commuting from the Cotswolds every day did not seem a good idea so he decided to rent a flat. In no time at all he found a very spacious, and very expensive, apartment in Chelsea.

Looking back – how easy it is to be wise after the event – I realise that we should have talked about our future together but we didn’t do this. I was worried that, once we were living miles apart, the relationship would end. However, despite my fears, for over a year the relationship flourished. We spent a lot of time together and I enjoyed the pleasant contrast between weekends in the Cotswolds, where places and people were familiar, and weekends in London, where everything was new and everyone seemed so interesting. I enjoyed the excitement of ‘life in the city’. More and more I felt drawn to London and settling there . . . but settling where exactly?

It was Tom’s idea that we should buy a place together – a house in or near London. The problem was that he had no money; the expense of the flat and living in London had drained his resources, so he said. On the other hand, I owned a house in Cheltenham: a character property which I had inherited from my grandmother. This had been in my father’s family for generations. Selling it would cause major upset but I put it on the market. For five years I had taught History at a school in Cheltenham. I knew that leaving would be a heart-wrenching but, after finding a new job in Hertfordshire, I resigned. Three buyers fought over my lovely old house and, once it was sold, I bought something half the size and not nearly as attractive in the same town as my job.

It was the end of July and the school holidays. I had been living in my new home for a week when he told me. ‘I won’t be moving in.’ Tom said. ‘I’m seeing someone else.’ What could I do? Just as Ariadne could not swim all those miles across the sea back to Crete, I could not return to Cheltenham where I had no home and no job. For me, however, life could have been worse. According to the Roman poet Catullus, Theseus left Ariadne, without a word, while she was sleeping. She could hardly believe her eyes as his ship sailed away through the waves, becoming smaller and smaller until it was just a tiny speck on the horizon. She stood in the eddying shallows, seaweed clinging to her legs; her snood was torn from her hair by the stormy winds; somehow her bodice, her skirt and her stole were loosened in the sea breezes; one by one, the thin silken garments slipped off and drifted around her ankles in the chilly waters. Ariadne was sobbing bitterly, trembling with grief and shivering with cold; she was naked, vulnerable and alone. A tragic figure, indeed.

I was not often alone. Friends made frequent visits and showered me with house-warming gifts. My parents arrived with bunches of flowers for the house, potted plants for the garden and food hampers for me. I sorted my new home: I washed and swept and polished. The previous owners had decorated the house recently. Nothing needed attention except for the front door which was badly scratched; it looked like a cat had used it for sharpening its claws. I began to love my new home and the garden especially. Beneath the apple tree I found a shady spot which was sheltered from the wind. Unless it was raining, I would take one of the kitchen chairs outside and sit and read for hours. The ready planted pots on the patio made the garden a blaze of colour. This was a low-maintenance garden and for me it was perfect.

Before the new school term started, I had ample time to explore the town. I loved the park which seemed to stretch for miles – acres of grassland and densely wooded areas. One day, when I was walking over the bridge of the canal, I met someone. Again I remember Ariadne’s story. When she was all alone on that stormy beach, Dionysus, god of vines and drama, espied her, rescued her and loved her evermore. At first I could not actually see my saviour. Suddenly there was a gust of wind and then rain came down in torrents. My umbrella flew one way, my headscarf the other, and in no time I was soaked. And then I saw a very large black umbrella.

Dominic conducted me to a nearby café and handed me a neatly folded handkerchief to wipe my face. Ex-public school obviously – his manners, voice and dress were evidence. He was so different to Tom with his trendy haircut and designer clothes, his loud laugh and his gift of the gab. Dominic’s job would not be in advertising. I imagined him to be something big in the city, perhaps a banker or a lawyer. I was wrong; he told me he was an architect and he worked locally. And so a new relationship began. Like Dionysus, he knows about fine wines and enjoys the theatre but Dominic’s supreme power lies elsewhere. Dominic can fix anything and everything; Dominic has to be a modern god of do-it-yourself.

The first time Dominic visited my house, he asked if there were any jobs to do. This was before I knew about his passion for DIY. ‘The front door needs repainting,’ I replied, ‘but I can do the job myself, thank you.’ The second time he visited my house, he gave me a present – a packet of sandpaper. ‘For the front door’, he said. I did not tell him until much later that I had, in fact, already done the job. These days Dominic sorts my house, my garden, my car, my computer, my IPhone and any gadget which I happen to break. Clearly he loves doing this but what about me?

Dionysus showed his love for Ariadne in an extraordinary way. When he swept her up in his arms, he told her she was his star and she must shine for ever. Then he gently removed the royal crown from her head and threw it into the sky where it whirled and spun through the air. Eventually it came to rest in the heavens, its jewels now changed into bright, fiery stars. In the night sky we can see this constellation, Corona Borealis, the Northern Crown – an eternal reminder of Dionysus’s love for Ariadne.

Last year Dominic gave me an extraordinary present on Christmas Eve. I heard his car arrive, his footsteps along the side of the house and eventually his knock on the back door. He led me into the garden and pointed to the patio. There I saw a bench, which he had made, of course. ‘Somewhere for you to sit and read your books in comfort,’ he said. The light was dim that night – no starlight at all and just a little moonlight glimmering through the clouds. He flicked a switch and in the apple tree high above I saw a string of lights, white lights, like little stars twinkling softly, and when I looked more closely I could see that they spelt out three words: I LOVE YOU.