Picture Imperfect

by Nicola Yeager

‘What the hell’s my dress got to do with anything?’

  ‘Those shoes are new, aren’t they?’

  ‘My shoes are none of your business.’

  What a silly thing to say!

  ‘Look. I know you were probably upset…’

  ‘Probably? It burned a bloody hole in me, Mark! I couldn’t believe you would do such a thing. That you could hurt me so much. That you were so selfish! I hated you. I hoped your plane would crash.’

  ‘You look great, Chloe. Really beautiful. If it was the two girls that was the thing that was upsetting you, there was never anything going on. That was never the plan. They were just friends of Danny’s. I didn’t fancy either of them.’

  He looks pleased with this statement. Smug, even.

  ‘That was never the plan? You didn’t fancy either of them? And what would have happened if you had fancied either of them? Can you imagine what was going through my mind when you were away? All the pain you inflicted? I felt totally betrayed by you.’

  ‘We just got pissed every night. Swum in the sea in the day. The girls went off on their own most of the time. We just had a couple of meals together, that’s all. I got quite a tan, if you want to know. Listen – wasn’t it my right to have a holiday?’

  ‘Sure. Sure it was your right, if you were a single guy. But you weren’t. You were in a relationship with me! We lived together, for god’s sake. If that’s what’s going on in your life, if you’ve got commitments, you don’t go off on holiday as if you’re nineteen and single. It was a mean thing to do, Mark. A mean, mean thing.’

  He looks bashful. It used to be cute, but it damn well isn’t now. It’s slimy. He keeps looking me and up down all the time, which I’m now starting to find extremely annoying. It’s as if he thinks I’m dressed up like this for him. He stretches a hand out to touch my arm, but I pull away to avoid it.

  ‘Well, that’s partly why I decided to find you. To come here. Honestly, you look really gorgeous. I just thought, maybe we could make another go of it now you’re earning more money. It seems such a waste to have put such an investment into a relationship and to not get any dividends from it.’

  ‘What?! What did you say? What d’you think this is? Am I some bloody offshore company you’ve invested money in or something? I can’t believe I’m hearing this.’

  I’m raising my voice. People are looking.

  ‘Well, in a way, yes. Yes you are.’ He looks at his shoes. ‘OK. I’ll be honest with you. Just to show good faith. There was a girl while we were away. It wasn’t either of Danny’s friends. Just a girl I met on the beach one day. Her name was Felicity. She was from Durham. It was just the one night. She wasn’t that clever, really. She wasn’t as good-looking as you. Not anywhere near. It wouldn’t have continued when we got back here. It was just a physical thing. You were so far away.’ He starts to get more assured, a nasty edge in his voice. ‘In a way, it was your fault. You didn’t keep up with me. Financially, I mean. If we’d been able to have holidays like that together, I’d never have been in that situation. It never would have happened. I would never have gone. But I’ll forgive you for that. Let’s just start again, like we’re meeting now, for the first time. Let’s put all that behind us. We can make it work this time.’

  He tries to touch me again. I move away again.

  ‘So let me get this straight. You bonked someone called Felicity while you were on your holiday and this was fundamentally my fault because my earning power wasn’t as good as yours was at the time.’

  ‘Basically, yes.’

  ‘But you’ll forgive me.’

  ‘Yes.’

  I was never a tomboy when I was in school. I liked girly things. I had many friends who had brothers that they used to play rough and tumble games with and who could hold their own in a fight. I was never one of those. But I guess I always had it in me, despite the lack of practice. And right now, I can feel anger coursing through every part of my body. The sort of anger that makes you clench your fists together. The sort of anger that needs immediate release.

  Mark never saw the punch coming, so he didn’t put his hands up to protect his face. He dropped to the floor as if he was a string puppet that had just had all its strings cut simultaneously. He wasn’t unconscious, but he was pretty close. His hands covered his nose as he moaned and writhed on the floor. There was silence for a few seconds, and then everyone went back to chatting and eating, as if nothing had happened. That’s cool arty folk for you.

  Just at that moment, Gavin and his friend walk in. Gavin takes a look at Mark’s prostrate figure and looks at me. ‘I didn’t mean it literally about the dominatrix thing, dear.’

  The rest of the evening went pretty well. Several people expressed an interest in buying, which delighted Rhoda, though she confided in me that she wasn’t really that surprised, as my work was really very, very good.

  After it had all finished and everything was being tidied up, Rhoda sauntered over to me, glass of Champagne in hand.

  ‘Can I just have a little word, sweetie?’

  I feared this was coming. Some security guys who I didn’t even realise were there took Mark to the A&E department of St Mary’s Hospital. I guessed that Rhoda was none too pleased with the sight of her latest art star whacking someone in the face in full view of all those gentle gallery folk. Maybe this was it. Maybe I was just too much trouble. Maybe I’ve blown it.

  ‘About that little incident earlier on…’

  ‘I’m sorry, Rhoda. It wasn’t planned or anything. I just lost it. I couldn’t, I didn’t…’

  ‘Yes, yes, yes. All I was going to say was: you have to look after your hands. They are your tools and you don’t do things that will damage your tools. You could easily have broken a bone in your hand doing that and then where would we have been?’

  ‘So you’re not going to…’

  ‘I take it that was him?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘The he deserved it, the silly bugger. They always turn up, people like that, always when you’re making it. Believe me, he’d have read up on you. Researched you. Come on. That Persian place I told you about is just around the corner. I feel like a ginormous mezze. I’m absolutely starving.’

  ‘Me, too. And thirsty.’

  She pecks me on the cheek, pats me on the shoulder and we walk out of the gallery into the cool night air.

  If you enjoyed Picture Imperfect, you might also enjoy Yes Chef, No Chef also published by Endeavour Press.

  Yes Chef No Chef

  Katie looked at her new black cocktail dress hanging on the wardrobe door and shivered with excitement - she couldn’t wait for the party tonight at The Savoy. It seemed forever since she’d spent any quality time with Tim and hugging herself with anticipation she did a little pirouette to reach the stool in front of her dressing table. Dreamily she thought of how the champagne would flow and how they’d dance the night away wrapped in each other’s arms - surely this would help to get them back on track, she mused, glancing at the bedside clock and praying he wasn’t going to be too late.

  Her mobile rang and when she saw his name on the screen she snatched it up. “Where are you?”

  With a note of wariness in his voice, he said, “I’m still at the restaurant.”

  “But you rang at five o’clock to say you were on your way, and the taxi will be here soon.” Katie exclaimed.

  Tim sighed with exasperation as though he was talking to a child, “I know, darling, and I’m so sorry but Jim phoned in sick at the last minute and I’m going to have to stay and cover service for him, and…”

  “What!” she yelled into the mobile, imagining him holding it away from his ear and pursing his lips with irritation. She could hear the clatter of pans from the kitchen and an electric whisk whirling, and then a girl’s voice calling for him which made her want to scream in frustration. “Shit, you can’t do this, Tim. Not tonight of all nights?”

  “Look, Kate, I can’t just leave the restaurant without a chef on duty
. It’s my responsibility, you know that. You’ll be fine with all your work mates and friends,” he cajoled, “I know you’ll have a great time.”

  But the hurt and disappointment was raging though her and losing her usual control she snapped, “But it’s my big night and you promised me nothing would stop you from being there. I mean, it’s The Savoy and the tickets cost a fortune, and I have my new black cocktail dress…” she tailed off seething inside.

  “Bloody hell, Kate, I’ve more things on my mind than new dresses,” he shouted, “I’ll give you the money for the damn tickets!”

  Tears of dismay were pricking at the back of her eyes. She couldn’t believe he wasn’t coming and letting her down again.

  “Look, I’ll make it up to you later,” he crooned. “And keep your new dress on so I can see it when I get home.”

  Her mouth was dry with anxiety and she only managed to click her tongue in amazement at his patronising tone.

  The noise from the kitchen faded and he said softly, “Oh, come-on, you’ll still enjoy yourself. Just make an excuse about work pressures for me and then give them my apologies.”

  You can grovel as much as you want, she thought lifting her chin in defiance, but you’re not getting the upper hand. She managed to clear her throat and speak in a calm but detached voice. “I’m sick to death of making excuses for you, Tim,” she said clicking her mobile off.

  Her hand trembled while she poured herself a glass of wine. How could he, she raged, he’d actually gone back on his word again. The night had been planned for months and it was supposed to be her chance to impress the new management bosses from the company - everyone was making a special effort to attend the party to launch the new advertising campaign. Well, everyone except Tim of course. She’d imagined herself in the classy cocktail dress walking serenely with her arm through his, chatting confidently and making polite conversation whilst sipping champagne.

  But now she’d have to walk around on her own, she seethed and glared at his happy smiling face in the framed photograph on her dressing table. ‘You knew how important this night was to me,’ she hissed and slammed the photograph face down. She took another mouthful of wine for Dutch courage and felt a surge of determination sweep through her - she wasn’t going to let him ruin her night, by God, she wasn’t, she’d go to the party on her own and shine like she’d never shone before.

  Looking into the mirror she swept blusher majestically across her cheeks and admired the hairdresser’s handy-work with her usual brown mousey hair. The cut was excellent making the long bob swing effortlessly when she moved her head from side-to-side and the vibrant dark brown colour emphasised her hazel eyes. With a final nod of satisfaction she decided her make-up was as good as she was going to get it and swivelled around on the stool to look at the dress, remembering the day she’d bought it with her friend, Lisa.

  They’d been in Selfridges at the end of an exhausting four hour shopping trip and just when she was about to give up she’d spotted it. Plain black crepe in a sleeveless classic style, the dress fitted her figure perfectly from the moment she slipped it over her head and wriggled it down over her slim hips.

  “Even the two inch length above my knee is perfect for me,” she’d said to Lisa who’d nodded in agreement.

  “It’s just right, hon,” Lisa had said, “Because although you want to show off those lovely slim, tanned legs you don’t want to look like a slapper in a mini dress. Yep, it’s simple, yet chic, and just the thing to impress the bosses.”

  Katie had hugged her in thanks and then later when her other close friend, Sarah, joined them she had loaned her a fine string of pearls and pearl stud ear rings which complemented the outfit perfectly.

  Picking her mobile up she pressed Lisa’s number.

  “Hey, there,” Lisa said. “How’s the dress look?”

  Katie moaned and told her what had happened, and then held the mobile at a distance ready for the blast of derisory comments.

  “The bastard!” Lisa fumed. “What the hell is going on with this guy?”

  In the past she would have defended Tim to the end of her days but now she simply couldn’t find the strength anymore. “I don’t know,” she said. “Within the last two months alone he’s missed his parent’s silver wedding, my cousins’ engagement, and Sarah’s thirtieth birthday party, and that’s without arrangements to meet after work to see a film or go to the quiz nights at the pub.”

  She could hear the pathetic whine in her voice and struggled to keep the lump in the back of her throat down. She pleaded, “What am I going to do, Lisa?”

  Lisa’s voice changed instantly as she went into full support mode. “OK. At the moment you’ll do nothing. You’re going to get to that party and knock the socks off them. And then on Saturday we’ll meet with Sarah for lunch and talk it through together and try to sort this crap out.”

  Katie swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “You, know, I could kill him for doing this to me at such short notice, Lisa, and what makes it worse is that if I’d known he wasn’t coming earlier, either you or Sarah could have come instead of wasting £150 for the ticket.”

  Lisa giggled. “Oh, sweetheart, I would have done but I have a hot date with this gorgeous guy who’s just to-die-for…”

  Katie smiled. “And Sarah is out with Mark, too,” she said. “So, I’ll just have to go to the ball like Cinderella and make the best of it.”

  “Tsk,” Lisa tutted. “But you don’t need him. I’ll admit he would have been an asset to have by your side because he is so passionate about food and it does make him charming to talk to but you’ll be fine on your own, won’t you?”

  Katie took another deep breath and reassured with Lisa’s support she agreed she’d be OK with as much conviction as she could muster.

  “Of course, you will,” Lisa replied firmly, “I mean, you’ve slogged for eight years since you joined the company as a junior and now look at you, a fantastic team leader ready to step up to the project manager’s position. You can do this job standing on your head and as for selling yourself, well…”

  Katie grinned at her friend’s confidence in her. Lisa Harding worked in PR and everyone they knew reckoned she was the best at what she did. Lack of confidence wasn’t even on Lisa’s radar and if anyone knew how to pitch themselves it was her. Katie wished her luck with the new guy and then listened to another round of instructions: shoulders back, smile on your face, and knock ‘em dead.

  Draining her glass of wine she thought fondly of Lisa who had the knack of turning a bad situation around so that you always came away feeling better, and then realising the taxi was due she slipped the dress on. She smoothed her hands over her hips and for a moment saw herself how she hoped Tim would have seen her, generous breasts with a tiny waist and slim shapely legs. But sadly that wasn’t going to happen tonight. A sudden idea of charging into the restaurant’s kitchen and showing him exactly what he was missing and then throwing his tuxedo at him or into a pan of boiling soup flashed into her mind, but this would only make her look foolish. Grinning with the thought of how much it would embarrass him though she grabbed her clutch bag, pushed her feet into black patent heels and ran out of the apartment.

  Daylight was fading and the bright street lights heralded the start of London’s busy night-life as the taxi manoeuvred its way along the Strand. Throngs of people spilled out of restaurants and hotels onto the pavements as the juggling mixture of buses, cars, and bicycles fought their way into positions. The window of the taxi was pulled half-way down and the noise of people laughing and shouting filled Katie’s quiet space while she shuffled trying to pull her dress further down because her legs were sticking to the plastic cover on the seat. She thought of how much Tim would have enjoyed the buzz and laid her hand on the empty space on the seat – she missed him being next to her.

  What was she going to do about their relationship? She groaned silently, it was petering-out fast and she didn’t know how to get it back on track. They’d bee
n so happy living together in the apartment for nearly fourteen months now, or at least she had. But, maybe he wasn’t and wanted something more or someone else? Shaking the bad vibes from her mind she promised herself she wouldn’t think of it again until she got home.

  The party was held in The Lancaster Room at the Savoy and Katie marvelled at the interior. The website had described it’s décor as ‘sparkling with timeless elegance and glamour’ and when she walked into the room she decided they had it in a nutshell. Although it was a large room with high ceilings, it was warm and she gazed upwards at the glittering lights from four huge chandeliers while listening to the quiet soft notes of Gershwin’s music. It was the ideal choice for the party because it had a clear floor space for dancing and even a small stage where the chief executive would make his speech to open the new advertising campaign. She walked through the room from the tall white Art Deco doors and spotted her two junior technologists, Harry and Alice who were looking at the seating plan pinned to a clip board and she called out a greeting.

  Alice smiled sheepishly at her with excited bright eyes. “Is my dress OK?” she asked Katie nervously.

  Katie knew this was Alice’s first big function with the company and was determined to enjoy herself but at the same time didn’t want to let the department down in any way.

  “It’s perfect, Alice,” she said hugging her warmly.

  Harry stepped forward and kissed Katie’s cheek. “And will I do?” he asked her, grinning broadly in his black tuxedo and freshly gel-spiked hair. He was only twenty one and fresh out of University but she loved his open, sincere personality and eagerness to learn.

  “It’ll do very nicely,” she said beaming back at him.

  Waitresses and waiters in the obligatory black skirts and trousers with clean white shirts wandered amongst groups of people with trays of champagne flutes and Katie inhaled the heady mixture of strong female perfumes.

  “I think we are sitting at table six,” Harry said as they helped themselves to a glass of champagne and manoeuvred their way in between round tables covered with white tablecloths and gilded chairs with cream upholstery. Table six was towards the back of the room and they found their names on place cards propped up in front of white linen napkins, and silver and blue decorations. A silver candelabrum stood in the centre of the table with three white candles and Harry lit them while Alice delightedly fingered her card which had a blue background and her name in silver print.