Chapter 31

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"A Picture never lies."
  [Part 2]

A set of photographs had been delivered to our house.

'What are you talking about dad. What photographs?'

'Very explicit photos son of you with your boss.'

A man had arrived at our door and delivered an envelope containing four photographs. He said that they were important.

'What man?'

My mind was in a whirl.

'I don't know son. Cheryl had never seen him before. He knocked on your door. He gave Cheryl a large envelope and said to look inside because it would contain all the evidence she needed.'

He wasn't making any sense.

'Evidence of what dad?'

'That you are canoodling with your boss.'

If it wasn't so serious, I think I would have been laughing at the choice of my dad's words. I sat and listened as he described each in detail.

One had me climbing into the limousine when we were alongside the Jupiter. It was taken from a distance but apparently my face was clearly visible.

'So I was getting into a car dad,' I said 'Cheryl already knew this. It was the car my boss hired to take us all out for a meal.'

'In a limousine son?' Enquired my father a little too sarcastically. 'Don't you think that's a little strange. Why not take you in a taxi?'

'How the hell should I know,' I retorted. 'I'm not my boss. Maybe there wasn't a taxi available. Anyway,' I cried. 'There's no secret there. Cheryl knows what I was doing because I was in that very car when I phoned her.'

He then went on to describe a photo taken just after I had come out of the toilet at the airport. I was wearing my nice new jacket and it captured the exact moment when Max was reaching out to adjust my tie.

'And you don't even own such a jacket,' said my father.

'Oh so now you are my fucking tailor eh dad?'

I had never sworn at my father, not in all the years we had known each other and I immediately regretted at how it must have sounded.

'No,' he said. 'You're right. I'm not a tailor son and neither is your wife but she does know her husband and she knows you don't own a light brown jacket.'

The next one had been taken at the race track when Max had her arm wrapped through mine.

'So what are you saying now dad?' I demanded. 'That I'm not even allowed to be friendly. Is that it? My boss takes us all out for a meal and she can't even give me a hug to say thank you. Is that it? Because if that's the case then I have a man on the other end of the phone who always taught me to be polite and so if a woman wants to hug me and say thank you then what? What are you saying? That I should just throw it back in her face and ignore her? Is that it? Because that's not how I was brought up dad and you know it.'

I wasn't too sure who won that round because my father moved onto the most compelling photo of all taken at the restaurant and what's more it had me dancing with Max and I had my head on her shoulders.

'But this is just so stupid,' I cried again. 'It's not what you think dad.'

I felt cornered. I had no idea who had sent those photos or what was to be gained.

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