The Bully

Chapter Twenty Five

"Thought you might be interested in a visit to Arlington while we're in Washington," Mark said, quietly. I turned to look at him standing next to me and nodded.

"That sounds good," I said. "Maybe you'd let me take some shots of you there?"

"Maybe," he agreed, his lips quirking in a small smile. "Least this time you won't be lying when you tell Bret we've arranged to go together." Glancing up at him I saw the smile had gone but I couldn't read his expression. He walked away and I sighed. I did feel a lot of guilt for lying to Bret or at last omitting the truth but I was worried about saying anything about my nocturnal wanderings. Night time shoots were kind of my thing though and I enjoyed them, however weird they might seem to other people.

"What did Mark want?" Bret asked as he sat down opposite me with a plate of food. We'd come down for breakfast early as we would need to pack up ready for the journey to Washington that afternoon.

"He wants me to go to Arlington Cemetery with him when we get to Washington."

"Night time again?" Bret enquired and I nodded. He shook his head. "Pair of you are plain weird."

"Gee thanks Bret," I said and he smirked.

"I don't know many folk would enjoy wandering round cemeteries in the dark."

"The dead can't hurt you," I said with a shrug.

"Always do in horror films," he countered.

"That's why I don't like horror," I replied, with a shudder. I'd only just got over the last one he made me watch with him at the cinema.

"What were those pictures on the table this morning?" he asked suddenly. "They were pretty grainy. Couldn't even tell who they were. You trying something different?"

I grimaced as I thought of the figure I'd tried to enlarge. It hadn't worked too well because of the saturation of dark colours and the fact they must have moved when I took the shots meaning they'd have been blurred to begin with.

"I guess. Didn't work though so it doesn't matter," I said. It wasn't exactly a lie as it had been something different and it hadn't worked.

"What time is Ed coming round?" Bret asked after a moment and I shrugged.

"Probably about eleven. We've got to get the tent down and put the trays away. He's going to go ahead of us to the airport so he can get everything checked in. Gotta say I'm surprised we're flying. I thought we'd be on the train for sure."

"Vince prefers flying," Bret replied as he polished off his breakfast and put his knife and fork down, before picking up his coffee. As he sipped it my mind wandered to the figure in the photographs again and the vaguely familiar voice outside the gallery. I shivered a little. "You ok? Are you cold?"

"No, someone stepped on my grave," I said and he chuckled.

"Probably getting their own back all the times you're pacing round their gravestones taking photos."

"You don't mind me going with Mark do you?" I asked and he shrugged.

"Rather him than me. And we both know Ed would not enjoy it. I'm not sure that Mike would be looking for any more graveyard shoots though, Angel."

"Well Mark has said I can maybe photograph him this time so I might have some shots for promotional materials or the magazine and anything else I can maybe send to the gallery in New York if they're interested."

"You heard from them?"

"No, I wouldn't expect to.  Not for a few days or even weeks. But if they sell all of the collection I'll be able to retire."