Wedding Photograph

“Now then Mrs Jackson,” he said.

His wife caught a strand of hair and pushed it back inside her headscarf. He caught his breath in a rush. He thought of putting his mouth against the flesh of her neck. He thanked his lucky stars.

It had all been Harry’s mother’s idea.

“I’ve bought a shop Joe, a little corner shop up in Hawes,” she’d said.

He’d nodded. It was the night after Harry had died, He’d gone to pay his respects and somehow he thought they’d be talking about the past, not the future. He must have frowned a little because she added as if in explanation.

“It’ll seem strange I know to talk about this on a day like today. But we’ve waited, me and Glad; it’s only been half a life. You know that.” She stopped for a moment and looked at the photo of Gladys and Joe on the mantelpiece.





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