The Bottle

“It’s Raining” she called out quietly as she peeled away from the window. The glass had steamed up where her warm breath met with the cold pane. “You’ll just have to take a coat love” a reply came from the bedroom. Melanie had been hoping that wasn’t going to be the response she got. It had been 6 months, 3 weeks and 2 days since her last date and had been hoping for things to remain that way however it was her flatmate Jo’s insistence that she get back out there which changed her mind. Melanie was shy. She had always been shy since she was little, she remembered hiding behind her mother’s skirts whenever they were at the till in the shops. It wasn’t that she was afraid of the cashier, just afraid of the human interaction. Conversation didn’t flow naturally from her, that, and she was always self-conscious about her looks. Melanie would joke saying that she looked like a squirrel and Jo, her somewhat liberated friend would reply “even squirrels are obsessed with nut’s” with a wry smile stretching across her face and a cheeky glint in her eye, “and it’s about time you get yourself back out there and meet a nice fella”. “Now look” Jo said, “I’ve laid out a dress for you that I think will be perfect for you tonight and don’t worry I’ve gone conservative with my choice, I know you’re going to his place for dinner and you don’t want to give off the wrong impression”. Melanie shuffled across their small living room to peer into her bedroom where Jo had been busy arranging her attire for the evening. On her bed laid a blue summer dress and matching rain coat. “I thought you could wear these” Jo said while brandishing a pair of gold earrings in her hand, with two shiny white pearls dangling from the ends. “Ok, I’ll be out in five” Melanie said as Jo brushed past her and left, quietly closing the door leaving Melanie with her dress and her thoughts.

Melanie emerged sheepishly from behind her door, uncomfortably dressed in a the dress with the raincoat hanging over her arm. She was ready to embrace the warm summer rain, though not her date that had been set up by Jo just hours earlier. “Don’t worry, he’s a nice guy and his profile is quite modest, I bet you’ll have a lovely evening” Jo comforted her. It didn’t work. Melanie couldn’t stop thinking about how much she would prefer to just stay in, curled up in her chair with a blanket and a good book to read while sipping her tea. The modern world just wasn’t for her. But she couldn’t help but realize that Jo was starting to sound more like her mother when it came to her incessant questioning regarding her dating life and whether or not she felt the need to settle down. Melanie reached for her handbag and proceeded to exit their apartment for the taxi that waited down below in the pouring rain. “Don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do” chuckled Jo who called out after her. That would mean that she could do absolutely anything she pleased with scant regard for the consequences. She really must look for a new housemate she thought as she made her way out into the warm, wet summer evening.

It was 7:30pm when the taxi came to a halt outside a respectable detached house on the outskirts of town. The summer months were always kind in this part of the world. It wasn’t too warm nor too cold. It wasn’t excessively wet or humid from the evening showers. The night was actually pleasant, the sky a fruity orange where the sun was growing dreary of the day. As the taxi drove off and left her on the pavement she began to look down, counting her feet. She was nervous. What if she was underwhelming? What if he was underwhelming? For a moment, Melanie envied her books, sitting isolated on her bedside table, all alone with no pressure to mingle in the frivolities of contemporary dating, or what passed for dating. She carefully approached the door, step by step until her finger hovered over the doorbell. This was it. No turning back. The ring of the bell echoed inside the house and she heard hurried footsteps concealed behind the heavy, dark oak door in front of her. The door opened and a man of late twenties or early thirties stood in its place.

“Hi, you must be Melanie”, the man asked. The words came from behind a perfect set of pearly white teeth that beamed back at her. Melanie’s eyes drifted over his face noticing his captivating blue eyes sitting at the top of a chiseled nose that matched his jawline and cheekbones. “I am”, Melanie replied shyly, a slight shuffling of her feet giving away her timid nature. “It’s so nice to meet you, thank you for inviting me for dinner that was really kind of you”. “It’s my pleasure” the man responded, ushering her inside and offering his arm out to take her coat. “I hope you’ll forgive me; it’s been sometime since I’ve been on a date. I thought by inviting you to my place it might help keep me calm in some way”. Melanie took a moment to compose her words, perhaps it was her nerves that delayed her response or maybe it was simply that it had been so long since she last spoke to a man that the right words to say would not manifest themselves to her. “I understand how you feel, it’s been a while since I’ve been on a date” she finally said, “if I’m being perfectly honest with you, I’m looking forward to a night away from my housemate also” she cheekily added. The man seemed amused, his eyes lit up and a smile spread itself across his face. “I can empathize with you there, moving to a place on my own was the best choice I ever made” he agreed. “My old housemate used to drive me mad, he was always cooking the worst meals imaginable. One day I caught him making a fish soup of some kind with three-week-old halibut, the smell was awful”. The man chuckled to himself and Melanie smiled, suppressing a giggle. “He used to say to me: Look Hans, you have to be fearless when you cook, the best chefs were always brave”. Both Melanie and Hans began to giggle and Melanie couldn’t help but think that she had been foolish in worrying about attending her date.

Hans brought Melanie to the living room where he had set out some flowers and nibbles on the coffee table. He gestured to a spot on the sofa for Melanie to sit and they began a shy but heartfelt conversation. He asked her how her day had been, if she had encountered much traffic on her way over and as he was cooking dinner if there was anything that she was allergic to. All was going well and for the first time in a long time Melanie felt not just calm but some sort of solace in the knowledge that perhaps the world wasn’t such a scary place and that even dating was a good way to meet people. She planned to thank Jo with flowers when she would get home later. Jo could be a pain from time to time but her tenacity came from a good place and Melanie knew it. Melanie’s eyes glanced around the room, it was bright with pictures on the walls and a collection of vinyl stacked neatly on the shelf. She looked toward the adjoining dining room where a table had been neatly set with a white table cloth and candles. Centered in the middle of the table was a bottle, deep purple in color with a red wax seal on its top. Melanie didn’t often drink wine unless it was a special occasion or unless Jo insisted upon those tedious girl’s nights that she had come to know so well. The bottle itself seemed curious. There was no label on it. It was either incredibly expensive or Hans didn’t want her knowing how cheap he really was she mulled.

“Where did you find such a nice bottle of wine” Melanie asked politely. “Ah you spotted that did you” Hans replied. “I’m going to let you into a little secret of mine. I make my own”. Melanie became instantly impressed. It’ so rare to find someone with a passion for creation these days she thought. Most people today find their excitement in destruction, either of themselves or in an external locus where they can receive instant gratification. To take the time to look after the grape vines, to harvest them, extract their juices and ferment them all before undergoing the bottling process was truly impressive. “I figured the wine would go perfectly with what I have planned for dinner” Hans stated. “The wine itself isn’t quite so sweet or fruity as such, its actually quite a subtle one, not to dissimilar from a Merlot. I’d offer you a glass now but I’ve found that its best served just moments before the meal, to preserve its flavors and aromas. To aerate it to soon would impair its integrity” Hans explained. Strange, she thought, most wines involved an aerating period to improve the flavor, nonetheless Melanie was excited, she had finally found someone interesting and passionate in ways that she thought people in society had lost.

They spoke and enjoyed each other’s company. Hans showed her some of his vinyl, explaining his music taste and how he started his collection. Melanie told him of her childhood and how she came to live in their town. As she checked the clock mounted on the wall in Hans’ living room, she noticed the time was close to 9pm, it had felt like only minutes had passed since she arrived but then again nerves have a way of distorting time even for the most observant of people. Melanie began to feel hungry and a rumble of her stomach gave it away to Hans. “Ah, my apologies” he said. “You must be hungry, don’t worry dinner’s all ready. I’ve been slow cooking it since 3, let me just pop down to the basement and grab some last-minute herbs and spices”. Hans swiftly got up from his sofa and disappeared behind a door out in the corridor that led from the front door to the living room. Once he was out of site Melanie stood up and began a small innocent dance, for the first time in a long time she had a reason to celebrate. She had found someone perfect in every way.

“I’ll just be a moment” Hans called up from the basement, “I can’t find the damned Oregano” he chuckled. Melanie decided that she would try to be helpful and approached the dining table. With a corkscrew left adjacent to the bottle she proceeded to open the wine. After extracting the cork, the first thing she noticed was a metallic, almost rotting smell. Maybe the wine was off she thought, or maybe she had opened it incorrectly and ruined the integrity of the wine like Hans had warned her. She poured some wine into the first glass hoping to, in some way, remedy the situation. What came out the bottle was thick and red. Scarlet red. The smell was awful. She hurriedly made for the basement, ready to confess what she had done to Hans. As she made her way down, she caught a strong scent, the same that had protruded from the bottle. As she reached the last step and the basement came into view she could have screamed. On a hospital gurney lay the body of a man, a series of IV bags connected to his arms and Hans stood beside him with his sleeves rolled up.