Manor of Convenience

Every Picture Tells a Story

The manor house had been quiet for a fortnight. It was unusual for it to be so silent but with our ladies on a trip to Paris to visit Abdul, it felt rather a different place entirely and there had been upsides and downsides to our separation. The upside was that George and I had endless time alone and were able to kiss and cuddle without interruption from the ladies and we had no unnecessary marriage obligations to fulfil. The downside was that we missed them. The first week was bliss but by the end of the second week, it was obvious George and I were becoming wilting flowers in their absence. We hadn't realised how close the four of us had become together as a unit until two of us were missing.

It had been my idea for Meg and Sophia to join Abdul in Paris and I had politely declined his invitation for myself as I felt it would cause fractures in my relationship with George. It was the best decision all round. Sophia and Meg would be able to visit a romantic city where they could shop, dine, and hopefully not attend any strange parties, and George and I would relax at home in our beautiful manor, able to be ourselves for the short time we were alone.

When they arrived back one rainy morning, Fettis was carrying their luggage from the car, and I raced over to greet them, flinging my arms around them, kissing their cheeks in happiness. They looked different somehow. They seemed so content and relaxed. I rather envied them. Perhaps George and I should've taken a break to an exotic country.

Meg was waving her camera at us. "Photographs!" she said. "You must see the photographs."

George nudged her. "Excuse me, dearest wife, but one hopes presents precede the photographs."

She laughed and kissed his cheek. "Oh alright, to the living room!"

...

Eventually, after the gift-giving and lots of chatter from the ladies about their wonderful trip, things settled back to normal and we were very much the unit I missed. We had one evening where Meg subjected us to a rather long slideshow of her holiday photographs to which I allowed the servants to join us and despite a few stifled yawns from George, all in all it felt wonderful for our wives to be home. Meg was passionate about the photographs and it awakened a sort of beast in her. She seemed to want to photograph everything!

Photography and Meg were inseparable and by the time late summer rolled around, she and her camera followed us everywhere as if we were subjects in some study. To Meg, photography was an art, a way to capture moments and keep them forever. She particularly liked photographing people and much of her work consisted of George eating breakfast with the cat on his lap; Sophia sat reading by the rose bushes, or myself at the wheel of my car, ready for an early evening drive. My cousin had quite the eye for composition and managed to find a way to inject life into still pictures that told very much about the subject and character. It was during this time that George also fell under the photography spell and although he did not share her talent, it finally gave the married couple—Mr. and Mrs. Wynter—something to share other than their name.

"That's right, Georgie," I heard Meg say as Sophia and I sat together on the lawn, next to the picnic hamper.

George was positioned on the bench with his beloved cat on his lap. He loved being the model and I heard the couple laughing and joking as they resumed the activity. I listened to their conversation.

"Chin up a little, George," Meg said.

He obliged and leaned back, very much regally as though he was sitting on a royal throne. Meg, with her fashionable bob-haircut, long cardigan, and trousers, looked every inch the artiste as she held her hands in some sort of directorial way as though shooting a film. We knew Abdul had shown her his film studio and she'd clearly been inspired by his techniques.