Cassie reached out and took the brown A5 envelope. She turned it over. The typed label addressed to ‘Cassie Mitchell, Reporter, The Anglian News’ gave nothing away.
‘Did anyone see who delivered it?’ she enquired.
Her assistant shook her head. ‘No. It was left in reception sometime this morning.’
‘OK. Thanks, Leah.’
Cassie smiled and waited as her assistant left the office, shutting the door behind her. Cassie looked thoughtfully at the brown envelope and turned it over again. The last time she had received an anonymous brown envelope it had contained several compromising photographs of the local MP with a woman Cassie had later discovered was a Swedish actress. She hoped this latest offering would cause her less trouble.
The envelope contained a single, 6” x 4” black and white photograph of a small girl wearing a coat and holding a camera. Suddenly, Cassie’s mind flipped back twenty five years. The coat had been royal blue, with a small black, fur collar. She had been staying at her Grandmother’s for a few days, for some reason lost in the mists of time. They had explored what Grandmother termed her ‘junk room’, which Cassie discovered was a back bedroom containing all sorts of treasures. There had been a mangle, which Grandmother explained was for squeezing water out of wet clothes; there had been a large, shiny kettle; and there had been The Camera. Cassie had been so excited to find a real camera, which Grandmother said she could have as it no longer worked. Cassie didn’t mind. She had been thrilled with the camera and pretended to take photographs for the rest of the afternoon. She slept with it under her pillow that night.
The next day, or it may have been another day – Cassie couldn’t remember – a woman had arrived to take her out. She was tall and slim, with her dark hair piled on her head in the fashion of the time. They had gone to the seaside, probably Cromer. After they had found an ice cream stall which was open, they had walked along the pier to the lifeboat station at the end. Cassie was wearing her new blue coat, and pretended to take photos all the while with her camera: a seagull sitting on a post, a fisherman wrapped up against the cold casting his line off the pier. As Cassie and the woman walked back, Cassie ran ahead, then turned to take a pretend photo of her. The woman smiled, took her own camera out of her bag and snapped a photo of Cassie.
Cassie had never seen that photo until today, and, as far as she could recall, she had never seen the woman since. She had speculated occasionally about who the woman might have been, but this had happened less and less until the incident had become a distant, half-imagined memory. This left her now with two questions: who was the woman, and why had she sent the photograph to Cassie?
I want to know as much as Cassie, who the woman is and why she has sent her the photograph. I loved the descriptive passage on Cromer Pier.
ReplyDeleteI loved the simple but direct way in which this story builds up and the clever way in which the photo is found in the brown envelope. The tone of the language has something of a detective story and carries you along. Peter
ReplyDeleteLiked the ways you slotted the homework into your story synopsis.. taking us from Charlotte's work, to a picture of bygone times, the excitement of The Camera, scenes on the pier.. then returning to investigative reporter mode. Also liked the use of speech and clues re how Charlotte is feeling.
ReplyDeleteThe lost in time, not sure when, where, recall bits sometimes seemed to lose some of your flow.
Your piece generates as many questions as it answers, which is good, of course. As with Peter’s piece the photo is now becoming central to your plot. Maybe this photo will need to go on the cover! You write confidently and clearly, with an evocative sense of place - I would watch a slight tendency to over-formal language - for example ‘asked’ is usually better (less intrusive) than ‘enquired’.
ReplyDeleteI like the clear-cut way the narrative develops. I have an unconfused picture in my mind of what is happening. I like the uncomplicated way you have woven the phot into your mains story. PETER
ReplyDeleteThis reminded me of stories by Rosamund Pilcher, who always tells a good one! Evocative, I thought, of a time gone by.
ReplyDelete