Pressure . . .
**Here’s where things started to get really interesting with Unlocking Creativity online from The Writers’ Studio. We had to start applying pressure on the characters we were creating. For me the characters in this piece and next week’s piece needed some sort of resolution. Consider these like a part 1 and part 2. It is entirely possible to make a character utterly deplorable in 300 words. Trigger warning: these 2 pieces deal with coercive control.**
Wednesday 21 August 2024
Marcello’s was the fanciest restaurant in town. It was Matt’s choice. So was her dress, jewellery and the food he’d ordered for her. Alexandra scanned the room, her eyes falling upon each diner in an attempt to avoid his. Fancy dresses, expensive dinner suits and extravagant jewellery were on show at every table. This was the A-list Saturday night crowd dining on white truffles and Fiorentina steak and washing it down with overpriced reds. She would have preferred street food.
Alexandra cleared her throat. She couldn’t avoid answering any longer.
‘Sam is my friend.’ Her hushed tones hid her quivering voice.
His calm demeanour from a few minutes before was replaced with the Matt she had come to expect since Sam’s arrival – demanding and curt.
‘Do you fully comprehend what I’m saying?’
Of course she understood. Matt wanted nothing more than for Samantha Winters to be out of Alexandra’s life. She nodded, meek and obedient.
Compliant. That’s who she was with him, but it wasn’t who she was. As a lecturer, she was respected. As a director, the cast and crew deferred to her authority. How and when had she become this shell of herself with him? It was different with Sam. Alex had to find a way to be that her with Matt.
She pushed the salad around a plate that was too big for it before dropping the fork on the rim. Every head in the restaurant turned to look. Matt reached across the table and crushed her hand.
‘Let go!’ Alex demanded.
‘I forbid you to see her again,’ Matt commanded.
‘And if I do?’ she asked, having already made her decision.
‘The wedding’s off.’
She removed the thick cotton napkin from her lap, pushed her chair from the table and left him with the bill.
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