Fireworks

Today’s featured photograph was taken in November, 2018, from Birkenhead, looking across to Liverpool waterfront, during the River of Light fireworks celebrations. The shot was taken using my former Pentax K3-ii, which I used in part exchange for my K-1. My lens was a 16-85 mm f/3.5-5-6 at 21 mm and f/11. The camera settings were ISO 100 and the shutter was 5 seconds.

The link to today’s writing progress is that fireworks are beginning to be set off in the plot. I see my plan here as risky. I’ve taken a safety copy of the file, as at this morning, and saved it under a new name so that I have a way back if I have to abandon my next few day’s writing.

The afternoon, after Gareth’s meeting with his ex wife, Marjorie, he tells his new love, Sandra, everything that took place. That appears to defuse the possibility of what Sandra’s assistant saw causing any trouble. Sandra, however, is troubled by that hug. Sandra’s daughter visits her Mum while Gareth is there, and she is told how things are progressing between them.

The following day, Monday, Sandra reassures her assistant that the hug she saw was nothing to worry about. The assistant is less convinced.

Tuesday is when Marjorie (ex wife) brings her infant pupils to the Library where Sandra (new love) is Senior Librarian. There follows a catty exchange when the fuses are primed. That night, Marjorie plots revenge with her partner, Julian. I provide an excerpt from the Library scene below.

Just before ten, the Library Staff heard, through the windows, the high-pitched sound of children laughing, squealing, shouting and gossiping as they neared the Library doors. Fran had unlocked the doors of the Community Room ready. Marjorie Hillingdon, the teacher in charge, got the pupils lined up so that they didn’t block the double doors, then let them pass through in line, counting them as they entered. A young Teaching Assistant led the youngsters into the Community Room. Marjorie watched the children file in then walked across to Sandra.

“Congratulations,” she said, “I believe that you have a new boyfriend.” “Yes,” Sandra said carefully, waiting for the trap to close, “I believe that you know him.” “You’d better believe it, Sandra,” Marjorie said, “he’s easily distracted though.” “You’d know more about that than I would,” came the calm reply. “Be careful of picking up someone else’s leavings,” Marjorie warned cattily. “Marjorie,” Sandra said, “in the words of a recent popular song, ‘I’m his future , you’re his past.’ Get over it. You’ve got a partner, leave my man alone.” “So, he’s your man is he?” Marjorie batted back, “I understood from him that this arrangement was somewhat provisional.” “True,” was Sandra’s answer, “but we both know where it’s headed, It’s just a case of when and how.” “Good luck with that,” Marjorie said, turning to walk to join the children. As she walked away, Sandra said, under her breath, “Bitch!” Fran had watched the exchange from across the room, terrified of a catfight breaking out, but Sandra remained composed and carried on with her work. But as Marjorie was walking towards the room, she was also muttering under her breath, “You haven’t heard the last of this, bitch!”

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