Getting The Picture by Sarah; Salway Page A

And if all you could think of was me. Did you think of me when you were talking to him, Mo? When you cooked his dinner, did you think of the time I dressed you up in an apron and the yellow scarf around your head and said I was going to take your photo just like the perfect housewife? It was supposed to make you laugh but it didn’t. Of course, it didn’t. It wasn’t bloody funny, was it?
    But you can’t blame me for being angry. You can’t blame me for that. It was a wicked lie that you thought I would have harmed you. Remember that time when I begged you to come to the studio, and you said it was going to be the last time because it scared you when I got so intense.
    If it scared you, what about me? After you’d left the studio that day, all I can remember is curling up in a ball and crying. The tears were still trying to get through even after they were all used up but I couldn’t seem to let my body know that it was empty. A model called Heather found me the next morning. I’d told her to come in early because she had to go to the dentist later and after she’d got no reply, she tested the door, found it open and came up the stairs. They kept saying in the hospital that she’d saved my life and that I was ungrateful for turning my head away when she came to visit.
    I kept calling out your name but no one knew who you were. I’d never said anything, you see, not even when I thought we were going to be together forever. You’d made me promise to be discreet. Heather even asked some of the other girls but they didn’t think there was a model called Mo. Eventually they came to the conclusion that I must have been calling for Mahad and got him to come and pick me up. I wrote the first letter to you after I came out of the hospital. You wrote back at first, didn’t you, two or three times, but then you begged me to stop. Trouble was that by then nothing could stop me writing to you but I still kept my promise. I didn’t mail any of them. Well, just the one. I should have sent you them all. I wish I had bombarded you with my love. I wish I’d stormed around there and rescued you instead of just watching at a distance. As if you ever really thought I could harm you. So this is my plan. I am going to finally take your girls for my own just as I know you would have wanted. I am going to rescue them from George. All of them. Nell and Robyn, and even Angie in France. I am going to make them all safe. Florence Oliver is going to help me, not that she knows exactly what her involvement is going to be. You see, when I was taking photographs there was a certain type of woman who would always say they never wanted anyone to see their pictures. I could tell them a mile off. I don’t know if I told you about this way I had of choosing my models. I’d go to clubs and leave some of my magazines lying about, and then I’d just hang around until a woman came over and picked one up. She’d circle for a bit maybe, but she wouldn’t be able to resist. And that’s when I’d start speaking to her. It never failed. Mrs. Oliver has that same spark about her as those women had. There’s a desperate need in her to be noticed, however much she might resist. She won’t mind me using her photographs.
    I remember you saying once that George would always be covering your body up, not from jealousy but correctness. You see where I’m going, Mo. If George gets fond of Florence and he finds out I have photographs of her then he will hate it. I will have the final victory over all his rules and right behaviour. It will take a will of steel and a cold heart. But I’m learning. After fifty bloody years of just watching and waiting, it’s time for some action.
    M
    40. letter from nell griffiths to brenda lewis
    Dear Brenda,
    Thanks for such a helpful meeting yesterday. I am sorry that my father has caused you so much inconvenience. As you suggest, I will