I’d like to pick your brains -this is the beginning of a short story –
any suggestions as to how it should/could carry on?
I am in the garden listening with Kate to someone (Ella Fitzgerald?) singing ‘My Funny Valentine’ on the little radio my mother bought for me last summer from a door-to-door salesman driving an old Morris Traveller. She also bought 4 grapefruit spoons from him which we never use because we’re not really grapefruit people. Too bitter. Too fussy.
“Would you like me to take your picture?” he asked when mother brought out glasses of lemonade for us all on the big silver tray with ice cubes clinking against the sides of the tumblers as she crossed the lawn. “I’ll bring you the prints next time I call, ” he promised. “A pound a print? ”
He took pictures of us sitting on the lawn under the apple tree with Kate jumping for a ball which he kept throwing up into the air for her to catch. ” Perfect. Just one more…..” he kept saying. “Last one…. smile…smile…that’s it…..perfect.” He must have taken half-a-dozen pictures then he drove himself out of our lives.
That was about a year ago.
Since then a lot has changed I think as Ella Fitzgerald sings “You make me smile with my heart…” Since then my mother has re-married, my best friend has moved to some place abroad – Kenya or Nigeria – one of these African places, and I have stopped eating. Oh and a 4th thing – the apple tree has gone – some sort of tree disease that couldn’t be cured.
I keep hoping the salesman will pitch up in his white(?) Morris Traveller with the perfect photo of that day when we still had the apple tree and were all smiling.
I’m not banking on it though.