The Bully

Chapter Ten

Perspiration dripped down my face but I ignored it as I focussed the camera on my subject who was perhaps ten feet away, his gun pointed at a small child who was playing in the sand close by. The soldier was smiling, a soft almost dream like smile and the gun held in his hand was in stark contrast to the expression on his face. It was a perfect shot and told the story I needed it to. He looked across at me and winked when he saw I'd taken his photo and I smiled back at him, moving away. The straps of my bag were digging into my shoulders and I was thirsty and hungry. Perhaps it was time to head back to the run down flat I'd called home for the last ten months. I needed to try and call Dotty, who went out of her mind when I announced I was heading to Iraq for a year long contract for a famous magazine. She'd not tried to forbid me from going but I knew she was questioning my life choices.

I had loved every moment of my degree and come out with a first class honours which I was immensely proud of. As soon as I'd finished I'd looked for a job that would take me away again, fill my head with anything but Bret. Since Jackie's wedding he had written occasionally, sending a note in with Jackie's sporadic correspondence and I did write back, but I kept it short and simple, no promises of love or anything like that. Gradually though letters from Jackie became fewer and fewer and because of that I didn't hear from Bret either. It didn't stop me thinking of him and aching for him though.

When I reached my flat I kicked the door shut and went straight through to the dark room I'd set up in the spare room. The windows were covered in thick black card and tape and then a blackout curtain to keep every fragment of light out. I'd also installed a thick curtain over the doorway. It stank of developer fluid but I loved it. The odour took me back to happy times with my dad at Summers House when he had taught me how to develop my own pictures. I took down the photographs I had worked on the previous day first as they were now dry and ready to send off then turned my attention to today's round of negatives. Taking the completed photos through to the kitchen I sat at the table with a bottle of water and spread them out in front of me, looking through the images of soldiers and civilians I had managed to capture.

The phone ringing distracted me and I answered it.

"Hey Angelina."

"Hi Lucille," I said. Lucille was the editor of the magazine I was working for. "Everything ok?"

"Sure. I wondered if you have the next set of prints ready for us? I need them like yesterday."

"Yeah, I've got one set ready to go and another set just drying. I'll get them off first thing. "

"Great. I have a new project for you."

"Ok."

"I want you to visit a hospital. It's not too far from where you're based and it's where our soldiers are. We want to do a piece on the physical effects of the the war on the men who are fighting."

"Ok," I said, grabbing a pen and my notepad so that I could take down the address.

"You'll be ok won't you? Some of it ain't pretty," she suddenly said. I grinned at this.

"When is this work ever pretty?" I asked. Lucille sighed.

"Gotta be honest Angelina, I love your work but I don't know how you do it."

"Easy enough when you've no commitments," I replied.

"Yeah I guess. I fancied that type of work when I was in my twenties but Rick would have absolutely forbidden it."

I laughed.

"That's why I'm single," I replied. "Only myself to think of."

"Alright, well get the photos over to me from the last couple of days and if I could have the hospital shots with some notes by the end of the week that would be great. I'd like some quotes from the soldiers to go with them if you can? It needs to be an emotional piece to wake people up to the realities of what these men are facing."