The Couple in the Photograph

by Valerie Keogh

  Roy tugged that day’s elaborately floral waistcoat down, murmured, ‘Okey-dokey,’ and left her to drink the coffee in peace.

  She watched as he walked across to the big semicircular desk that was his domain. Roy’s Kingdom, Nathan called it, only half-joking.

  Roy hadn’t queried where she was going but she knew he’d be wondering. She sighed, picked up the coffee and took a mouthful. It was the best thing to do, wasn’t it? Face up to the danger, brazen it out, chase it away. She rested her forehead in her hand for a moment. It was times like this that she really regretted the damn glass walls.

  No hiding away from what she’d done.

  The second hand ticked around the face of the clock that sat on the corner of her desk. It was 11.15, she’d leave at exactly 11.30. But when both hands pointed directly at twelve, she’d still not finished her coffee.

  She sipped the cold drink wishing it were something stronger. Something to give her the courage to go to the building next door and face a man she’d been naked with only days before. Face him and accuse him of trying to damage her marriage, when the truth was the blame was all hers.

  What had she been thinking?

  Draining the disposable mug, she crunched it in her hand and fired it into the bin. If she was going to do this, there was no point in putting it off any longer.

  She took her jacket from the coat stand. It wasn’t necessary, the building was only next door and it was a particularly warm September. But the smart military cut of the jacket made her feel more in control. She smoothed a hand over it, buttoning the middle button, then unbuttoning it again, a nervous gesture that irritated her.

  Roy looked up from his computer screen as she walked across the reception. Keri raised a hand in acknowledgement but didn’t stop.

  Outside the office, she joined in the flow of people on the busy footpath and walked the short distance to the entrance of the large multi-occupancy building. She’d never had a reason to go inside before. According to a directory mounted to one side of the front door, apart from Dixon Solicitors, the businesses were arty types: marketing, advertising, graphic designers, a publishing company.

  There was a small reception area. A woman sat behind the desk, blonde hair tied in a high ponytail that swished as she turned to look at Keri. She wore a black T-shirt with an asymmetrical neckline that bared one elegant tanned shoulder. Instantly, Keri regretted her jacket, feeling mumsy. Old.

  ‘Can I help?’

  Keri bit back the words she always wanted to say when she heard this particular phrase. You. Can I help you. Not ‘can I help’, you lazy cow. ‘Is it possible to speak to Barry Morgan.’

  The ponytail swished. ‘Which company does he work for?’

  ‘Dixon Solicitors.’

  ‘And your name is?’

  ‘Keri Metcalfe. Mrs.’ Keri didn’t know why she added the Mrs. It was a bit late now to remember she was married.

  Miss Bare Shoulder turned away and tapped long dark nails on the keyboard. Without looking up, she asked, ‘What does this Barry Morgan do at Dixon Solicitors?’

  ‘He’s a solicitor.’

  The ponytail swished energetically as she turned back to Keri. ‘No, there isn’t anyone by that name working there.’

  Keri looked at her blankly, then laughed unconvincingly. ‘I’m sorry, I must have misunderstood. Maybe he works for a different company?’ She saw a sudden flash of sympathy in the younger woman’s face.

  ‘I shouldn’t really,’ she said, with a glance around. ‘But I suppose I could have a look on the list of names we keep for emergency services. You know, in case we have a fire or something.’

  ‘Thank you, I’d appreciate that.’

  ‘It’s going to take me a couple of minutes, the list is organised by company rather than alphabetically.’ She waved a hand towards a seating area near the wall behind. ‘Why don’t you sit and I’ll give you a shout when I’m done.’

  The seats were those too-low chairs that were impossible to sit on gracefully or to get out of without shuffling awkwardly. Restless, Keri stayed on her feet, wondering how she could have made such a mistake. She remembered the day she and Barry had met, right outside. He’d said he worked there, that he was a solicitor. Her worried expression cleared. She was being silly. She’d assumed he worked for Dixon Solicitors since they were the only law firm mentioned on the directory, but he hadn’t mentioned them by name. Maybe he was a legal consultant for one of the other companies.

  She’d almost convinced herself she was right when she saw the receptionist wave to catch her attention.

  ‘I’m really sorry,’ Miss Bare Shoulder said before Keri could open her mouth. ‘I double-checked. There’s nobody by that name employed by any of the companies working here.’ A long fingernail pointed to the computer. ‘I checked last month, in case he might have left or something but–’ She shook her head sending her ponytail swishing again. ‘–no luck, I’m afraid.’

  Keri scraped some dignity together and managed a wobbly smile. ‘Oh dear, I must have misunderstood, or taken the details down incorrectly, not to worry, no doubt he’ll be in touch and we’ll get it sorted.’ She was babbling and she could tell by the receptionist’s increasingly sympathetic expression that she wasn’t fooled.

  ‘Thanks for your help.’ Keri turned with her back rigid and her chin in the air. The reception seemed colossal, every step across it a forced action she had to concentrate on. She kept her eyes focused on the exit and left the building.

  12

  Outside, Keri took a deep breath and looked around. It had been about here where she’d met Barry. She’d bumped into him. It had been an accident. Hadn’t it? She squeezed her eyes shut as she tried to remember every second but it was impossible. She had been walking on autopilot, her head probably full of the day’s business. She remembered feeling a little low because Nathan was away and she wasn’t sure if Abbie and Daniel were coming home that night. An empty house didn’t hold the allure it once had, when there was always someone wanting to speak to her – one of her children, one of the staff, or Nathan. Days when she’d have killed for a little peace and quiet.

  She opened her eyes, ignoring the passers-by who divided like a shoal of fish to get around her immobile figure. Maybe that had been it. She’d looked sad and vulnerable and had stupidly been taken in by a friendly face and an appreciative smile.

  Barry Morgan. He didn’t work where he said he did, maybe that wasn’t even his name. She couldn’t believe anything he’d told her. Desperate for a bit of excitement, she’d made him out to be what she needed and ignored the warning signs. Now they were blowing bugles and flashing lights. He was the one who had avowed love, who’d spoken about her leaving Nathan. It was Barry who had clung to her hand possessively with tears in his eyes when she’d had to leave. She’d told herself it was sweet, now she realised it had been seriously odd.

  She turned and started the short walk to her office, unbuttoning her jacket and slipping it off as she covered the distance with shaky steps.

  There were people in reception so she was able to slip by without Roy seeing her. Always pale, she tended to turn almost grey when she was unwell, or shocked as she was in this case.

  The glass walls of her office wouldn’t offer her any privacy. She continued along the corridor to the staff toilets, relieved to find them empty. The mirror over the wash-hand basin told her she’d been right, her face had taken on an unhealthy sheen. She turned on the cold tap and held her wrists under the flow of water. Several minutes later, cooled down, she was looking a little better. Good enough not to draw comment from Roy or Nathan.

  Back in her office, she sat, picked up her phone and dialled a number from memory. She had to speak to Barry, if he didn’t answer this time, she’d leave a message.

  ‘The number you have dialled has not been recognised, please check and try again.’

  Grunting with frustration, she dialled again.

  ‘The number you have dialled has not been
recognised, please check and try again.’

  Keri looked at her phone in disbelief before trying the number once more, pressing each digit carefully, knowing it was a waste of time. She hadn’t input his number, afraid Nathan might somehow see it, but she’d a good head for figures, she wouldn’t have got it wrong. Barry had obviously changed his number so she couldn’t contact him to hold him to account for that blasted wreath.

  Perhaps too, he’d have guessed she might have gone to confront him for it so would have discovered his deception. This way, he didn’t have to explain. This way, she’d never find out the truth.

  She switched on her computer. If anyone looked through the glass walls, they’d assume her frown was from whatever report she was reading or writing.

  Perhaps the wreath had been an accident and she was foolishly reading too much into it. Guilt, she was discovering to her cost, had a very loud voice.

  The upward swing of optimism didn’t last long and when she tumbled she fell further into the trough of guilt and fear. But what if it wasn’t an accident? If Barry had sent the wreath and the RIP note as a sick commentary on their relationship… or worse, as a critique of her marriage… would that be enough for him or would he go further to make her regret ending their affair?

  She remembered Barry’s voice on the phone. How ferociously angry he’d been. Guilt and fear took turns in wielding the lash.

  What if he went further?

  13

  Keri tried unsuccessfully to push the wreath and her guilt over the affair to the back of her mind. But thoughts of both continued to torment her, making her irritable, disturbing her sleep, ruining her appetite.

  If Nathan noticed, he made no comment, but she noticed he held her hand as they walked to work in the morning which he hadn’t done in a while. She felt the warmth of his hand and relished his unspoken concern even while she acknowledged she didn’t deserve it.

  They were unusually busy with new contracts which meant she could bury herself in work and by Wednesday afternoon she felt she’d done a full week. A knock on the door dragged bleary eyes from the screen. She looked over to see Roy peer through the glass and waved him in.

  ‘Sorry to bother you but there’s a young woman here who is looking for work experience.’ He held his hands out. ‘I’d have sent her away but she’s gone to so much trouble, I didn’t have the heart so I thought–’

  ‘That I’d get rid of her for you? You are such a pushover, Roy. Right, go on, show her in, it’ll give my eyes a break from staring at numbers.’

  Keri saved what she was working on, then looked back in time to see a neatly dressed young woman walk across the reception towards her door. Immediately she was reminded of Abbie who had the same blonde-streaked hair and heavily kohled eyes. But whereas her daughter carried herself with supreme self-confidence, this young woman had the slumped shoulders and rather defeated expression which said she’d been disappointed too many times. Keri, who had intended to say no, gently but emphatically, found herself thinking why not.

  ‘Thank you for seeing me.’ The woman handed a folder across the desk. ‘I’ve put together my reference and details of jobs I’ve done so you can see I’m willing.’

  ‘Sit, please.’ Keri opened the folder and read through the details of summer and weekend jobs, some voluntary, a few not. Tracy Wirick was eighteen. Keri flicked a look over the young woman sitting nervously on the edge of the chair. She looked older. ‘You finished school this year?’

  ‘Yes. I got A levels in English and History.’

  There was a reference from the school with the usual overused words. Diligent, conscientious, pleasant, reliable. In Keri’s experience, they meant little. She shut the folder. ‘You want to work in an office environment?’

  ‘Sort of.’ Tracy pointed behind her. ‘I’d like to work in reception. I’m good with people. Eventually, I’d like to work in a hotel.’

  ‘Have you applied for jobs?’

  ‘About twenty.’ She smoothed a hand over her jacket. ‘I bought this suit especially,’ she said naively. ‘I thought if I looked professional I’d have a better chance, but there are so many people looking for the same type of jobs, and so many with experience.’ Her sigh said she was getting used to rejection. ‘That’s when I thought if I had work experience with a good company, I’d be able to use that in my favour.’

  And no doubt a reference from Keri and Roy to add to her meagre folder. It was a clever strategy and it might work. ‘How long were you thinking?’

  Tracy’s eyes brightened. ‘I was hoping for a month but honestly whatever you allow would be great. I’m a quick learner. I won’t get in the way.’

  Keri tapped her finger on the desk. Maybe it would show Roy the advantages of having a subordinate in reception. ‘Okay. A month. And if you prove yourself useful, we might offer a small payment.’ She raised a hand. ‘If,’ she stressed. ‘And it will be Roy who makes that decision, so it’s him you’ll need to impress.’ She tapped the folder. ‘I’ll have to check your reference, of course, but assuming it’s okay, when would you like to start?’

  ‘Tomorrow?’

  Keri laughed. ‘Why not. Okay, you go and tell Roy the good news and he’ll tell you the hours etc.’

  Roy would be taken aback, but he was a pushover, he’d go out of his way to make Tracy feel right at home. He would also, Keri knew, be more than happy to impart all his knowledge.

  She wasn’t surprised when he appeared at her door minutes later.

  ‘A month!’

  ‘You’ll love it, someone hanging on your every word. I bet at the end you’ll be begging me to keep her on as your assistant.’

  He shook his head. ‘She seems a nice enough lassie but however nice she may be that won’t be happening.’

  ‘We’ll see.’ Keri waved him away and went back to finishing the last of the contract she’d been reading.

  At four thirty, she was done. She stretched her hands to the ceiling, feeling muscles groan. Too many hours curved over the computer. Making a snap decision, she picked up her desk phone and rang Nathan’s extension. ‘If you’re not busy how do you fancy slipping away. We could stop for a drink on the way home.’ She heard the faint sound of his fingers drumming on the desk before he answered.

  ‘That sounds like a good plan. Give me five minutes.’

  There was one advantage to glass walls. When she saw him get to his feet, she grabbed her jacket and bag and left her office at the same time.

  Roy smiled when he saw them. ‘You two escaping?’

  ‘Before anything else happens,’ Keri said. ‘Oh, and by the way, I checked that young woman’s reference, she sounds a saint.’

  ‘Just what I need.’ He raised an eyebrow and winked when Keri laughed.

  Nathan wanted to stop in the nearest pub, but since the Hare and Hounds was one Keri had recently visited with Barry, she persuaded him to continue to one nearer the train station. ‘It’ll be more relaxing,’ she said vaguely.

  ‘Sure, I don’t mind. The Parson’s Nose is nice.’

  She’d no recollection of having been there before but jumped at the change of venue. ‘Oh yes, let’s go there.’

  It was only a short distance from the pub to Walthamstow Central station so it was convenient, but it also made it busy and there wasn’t a seat to be had. They were forced to have a drink standing at the bar which wasn’t what Keri had wanted.

  Which was what?

  What had she bloody well wanted? She took a large mouthful of the wine the bartender had placed before her.

  ‘Hey, steady on.’ Nathan picked up his beer. ‘I thought we should make a toast.’ He tipped his glass against hers. ‘To our continued success.’

  The business’s continued success. Because that was what was important. If only he’d toasted her or their relationship or hadn’t bothered with his stupid toast and simply said this was nice. To be together.

  Two women with long blonde hair and off-the-shoulder thigh-length dresses passe
d in a haze of overpoweringly sweet perfume. Keri watched Nathan’s eyes automatically sweep over them and follow as they took up a position at the end of the bar.

  What was it Barry had said? That women like Keri, trying desperately to hang onto the idea that they were beautiful and desirable, were two a penny.

  This had been a bad idea. She looked at Nathan’s beer. He’d barely touched it. She picked up her glass, drained it in two gulps and waved it at the bartender who lifted a hand in acknowledgment.

  Nathan picked up his drink and eyed her warily. ‘What’s the matter with you tonight?’

  ‘Nothing.’ She wanted to try a smile but she knew it would wobble, knew the attempt would end in tears. ‘It’s been a busy day, that’s all. Another glass of wine will hit the spot.’

  ‘You’ve been a bit odd recently. Why don’t you tell me what’s troubling you.’

  She waited until her wine arrived in a fresh glass. ‘Do you still love me?’

  He stared, then laughed as if it were a trick question, the laugh fading when she stayed quiet. ‘Of course I still love you.’

  ‘We’ve been together so many years.’ She turned to look down the bar to where the two glamorous women sat. ‘We were so young when we met. Do you ever think that we missed out?’

  ‘Missed out?’ Nathan moved closer and put a hand on the small of her back. ‘Is that because I looked at those women? I’m sorry, it didn’t mean anything.’

  She knew she was being stupid. He’d only looked… she’d cheated on him. It was her guilt that was making her be so unreasonable. ‘Not only because you look at other women when you are out with me, but maybe because you think it’s acceptable. That it wouldn’t bother me.’

  Nathan looked as if she’d hit him. ‘I’m really sorry. I didn’t think.’

  ‘A bit like your toast.’