Snapped in Cornwall by Janie Bolitho Read Free Book Online Page B

Methodist influence. Rose had agreed to Barry’s suggestion and had added that they would be more striking in black and white matt. There was a roll of undeveloped film awaiting attention. Barry required them for a trade fair and thought they would make alternative Easter cards. Although he was in business to make money, like Rose he hated the commercial aspects of the two main religious festivals. ‘Go on,’ he had urged. ‘I know how much you despise yellow chicks and bunnies. The most you can lose is a film.’
    Leaning forward to catch a slice of tomato in danger of sliding out of her sandwich, Rose remembered she had left the proofs of the Milton photographs at the house. She might not have been allowed to retrieve them, she thought cynically; DI Pearce might consider them as evidence.
    The work completed, Rose slid the first of the church shots under the enlarger, then decided against it. The pictures would lose their stark impact if they were made bigger. Let Barry decide, she thought. Before she went downstairs again she took out her own copies of the photographs she had taken for Gabrielle. Something troubled her but she could not remember what it was. She kept copies of everything in clearly marked folders in a filing cabinet, both for her own reference and in case a client desired a further order.
    The sun was an orange globe by the time she was seated in the armchair nearest the window, a small table beside it. Shehad neglected Laura, whom she had promised to ring to tell her how the party went – although she was surprised Laura had not contacted her. Surely she must have heard the news? But Laura was out.
    Six thirty. It was not too early for a glass of wine. She poured one and returned to the sitting-room. The first shots of the Milton house were what she expected. It was the last one which puzzled her. It took several minutes before she realised what it was.
    On the far right-hand side was a minute blur. Rose picked up a magnifying glass but whatever it was became no clearer. When she had released the shutter the final time she had registered a movement. When she stepped back from the camera Dilys had gone. ‘But Dilys’, she said aloud, ‘must have fled immediately after the picture was taken.’ Because in that picture Dilys was still there. Standing, it was true, ready to jump, but there all the same. Rose doubted the enlarger would clarify the blur if the magnifying glass had not done so.
    ‘Barry,’ she said, having dialled his number, ashamed that she expected him both to be in and to respond to her wishes. ‘How about that drink I owe you?’
    ‘I was just about to ring you. I thought I’d leave it until this evening to give you a chance to … well, to rest.’ He wasn’t sure what he meant, only that he had guessed Rose would prefer to be on her own.
    ‘Rest? Oh, yes, I see.’ Was it selfish to have been working all day under the circumstances? ‘I need someone to talk to. Are you busy?’ she added hastily.
    ‘No. And I’m your man.’ I’m never too busy where you’re concerned, he thought, but he could never say the words aloud. He did not want to lose whatever he had with Rose, as little as it was.
    ‘Look, why don’t I meet you somewhere? Are you at the shop?’ Barry’s calls were automatically transferred from the shop to his flat. Throughout the summer he opened on Sundays.
    ‘No. I closed at six. I can pick you up.’
    ‘I need the walk.’ Her earlier ennui had worn off.
    They arranged to meet outside his flat.
     
    Rose was pale with dark semicircles under her eyes. ‘Where would you like to go?’
    ‘I don’t mind.’
    Barry’s flat was situated in a side street which led off the Promenade. They strolled down to the bottom and turned left, crossing the road at the pedestrian lights directly in front of the long glass frontage of the Queen’s Hotel. Rose realised she wasn’t as strong as she had believed. ‘The Navy?’ she suggested. It was a small, friendly