Double Exposure

Sandra sat in her car composing herself for several minutes before opening the door to the summer’s heat and stepping out onto the sun-baked pavement. She was an attractive brunette and to her pleasure, most people guessed her age at around the mid-thirties, almost ten less than her actual years. Although anxious, her pretty face showed little of her nervousness, a trace of a smile playing across her lipstick reddened lips. Only her deep brown eyes, darting around to take in the unfamiliar surroundings, showed anything of her true emotions. Beneath her plain white blouse, her heart was racing, and as she opened the gate to number 23 and started up the path, it seemed to accelerate another few degrees. The semi-detached house she approached could have been any house, in any street, in any number of London’s suburbs. It looked well maintained; the gardens were neat and tidy, the flower beds weeded, the lawns trimmed. Swallowing deeply, almost theatrically, Sandra pulled back the brass door knocker and rapped it twice against the Oxford blue door. She heard sounds coming from deep in the house and then footsteps approaching the front door.

As she waited for the door to open, Sandra wondered if Janet would be as nervous as her about the meeting, after all, it had been twenty-five years since they had last set eyes on each other in the flesh and three years before that since they were at school together. During high school they had been best of friends, doing everything and going everywhere together, even sharing family holidays. In fact, they were often mistaken for sisters as they looked so similar, with the same light brown hair in the same style, the same brown eyes, the same build, except Janet was one inch taller than Sandra at 5’ 7”. However, two years after leaving school, Sandra’s family had moved to North London, half a world away for a young girl with no car. They had spoken on the phone and written to each other for a while, then the letters lessened, became Christmas and birthday cards, then both families had moved again, within a month of each other and they had lost contact. But in this modern age of the internet and e-mails, Janet had tracked Sandra down via an old school website and here she was. She was snapped from her reverie by the sound of the lock turning and the door swinging open in front of her. Sandra’s last thought as the door opened was, ‘Oh God, will we even recognise each other?’ However, she needn’t have worried as the door fully opened to reveal Janet standing before her. Yes, she was Janet at forty-five years old, yes, she had a few lines and wrinkles and yes she had a few strands of grey in her hair, but she was definitely Janet. Simultaneously the broadest smiles broke on both their faces and they fell into each other’s arms, crying and babbling over each other, often the same phrases.

“Oh my God you’ve hardly changed...”

“...going a bit grey...”

“...just how I remembered...”

“...so glad you e-mailed...” and so the conversation went on for a few minutes. Once the initial excitement was over, the two reunited school friends moved from the front step to the kitchen. After making some tea for them both, and tipping some biscuits onto a plate, Janet ushered her friend into the lounge where they sat, all the time one or both of them chattering constantly. It had only taken a short time for them to feel comfortable in each other’s company again; and soon it was if they had never been apart.

During their initial exchange of e-mails before the meeting, they had filled each other in on the basics of their current lives. Both had married after a short engagement, Janet in 1988 and Sandra in 1990. Both had three kids, Janet two girls and a boy aged 15, 12 & 10, Sandra two boys and a girl aged 14, 13 and 11, there was only six years difference between all six children. Both had also found it highly amusing that their husbands had the same name, Sandra was married to Graham, and Janet was married to Graeme. Graham was a machine parts salesman and travelled all round the country visiting clients; Graeme was a production trouble shooter for a large car company and travelled round the country visiting factories, offices, and related components manufacturers. They were also amazed to find that they now only lived within forty-five minutes’ drive of each other in South London and so the seeds had been sown for their meeting.

At first their talk had been mostly reminiscing about school days, ex-classmates, Ex boyfriends, old teachers etc. They had two and a half decades worth of news to catch up on and a couple of hours soon flew passed as they moved on to kids, husbands, and parents. Both had known each other’s families very well during their school days, living in one another’s pockets as they had and spending so much time at each other’s houses. Sandra was sad to hear that Janet’s mother and father had both died within a year of each other just a few years ago, they had been like second parents to her, and she had spent many happy evenings at their home playing board games and the like. Both Sandra’s parents were still alive and going strong, they had been considerably younger than Janet’s parents, having Sandra while still in their late teens whereas Janet’s parents were in their mid-thirties when she was conceived. They chatted for a while about their parents, holidays they’d been on together, both filling in gaps the other had forgotten until they got back to their current families again.

“It’s a shame your kids are at school, I’d love to meet them,” Sandra lamented, “We’ll have to get the broods together some time, and the husbands come to that, it sounds like they’ve got a lot in common.”

Janet agreed. “That would be great, Graham’s due back from Manchester tonight, we’ll try and organise a date.”

“Good, my Graeme only went away yesterday,” said Janet, “so it’ll be a few days until he’s back, but when he rings tonight, I’ll try and get some firm dates from him, but you know what it’s like with these travelling husbands.” The two of them whinged for a while about coping with a family and running the household while the husband was away so much, then Janet said,

“I’ll tell you what, hang on a second, I’ll go get the photo album out and you can see what you’re letting yourself in for with my mob.” As she spoke Janet uncoiled herself from the armchair, she had curled herself up in and headed upstairs.

While she was gone, Sandra looked around the room which was decorated very much to her tastes. The walls were elegant, pastel colours, the furniture well-padded in tasteful coordinated colours and dark wood frames. The curtains were flowered but not chintzy, all in all Sandra felt comfortable here.

Janet soon returned with an enormous green photo album and placed it on the coffee table in front of Sandra with an audible thump. Instead of returning to the armchair in which she’d previously been sitting, she lowered herself onto the settee next to Sandra to talk her through what were apparently hundreds, if not thousands of photographs. They were literally falling out of the bulging pages, as she opened the cover. Janet must have seen the look on Sandra’s face and laughed, “Don’t worry, I won’t force you to look through all of them! They’re just all mixed up, one of those jobs I keep meaning to get around to, sort them into chronological order or something.”

“I don’t want to be rude, but I do have to be home for the kids at three o’clock.” Sandra replied with a smile, “That only gives us two hours.”

“Better get cracking then, hadn’t we? As I don’t have any pictures of the conception let’s start with baby photos...” was Janet’s only partially humorous reply.

Sandra soon saw that Janet hadn’t been kidding about the disorder of the album; the first few pages were a jumble of family holidays and baby pictures from various years. Some were in the older style, with a white border, the colours faded and dull. Others were more modem, with no border and bright vibrant colours. They had been laid out in a higgledy-piggledy fashion under the protective cellophane sheets, some overlapping, or almost totally covering others. They sorted through the chaotic muddle, stopping to look at many of them as they went, straightening some where they had slipped askew under the cover. “Your kids look gorgeous., Jan, they remind me so much of mine too, I wish I’d thought to bring some photos with me to compare and contrast.” Sandra commented, pausing at one particularly eye-catching picture of the three kids together, posing on the beach. “Maybe next time we can do this at your place, and it’ll be your turn to bore me shitless!” Janet replied.

“No, no, no this isn’t boring at all Jan, it’s great catching up with you and finding out all about your life.” Came Sandra’s surprisingly emotional response. They looked at each other tearfully for a while and then embraced again.

“Come on; let’s get back to the pictures before this turns into a lesbian moment.” They both laughed at this and turned back to looking at the album. After another thirty minutes and several pages of photographs, Sandra began to notice a trend in the images. “You know Jan, in all these snaps; I don’t think I’ve seen one of this apparently gorgeous hubby of yours. Are you ashamed of him or are you afraid he might find me more glamorous and run off with me?” Sandra teased.

“What, you mean like Barry Waters in high school?” Janet shot back.

“I did not steal Barry Waters off you in high school!” Replied Sandra with mock indignation. “He found out you’d gone to the youth club disco with Paul Taylor, and I was his revenge.” Her high cheek bones had flushed a little, giving away her true feelings.

“But you did fancy him though, and you knew we were an item and even though we were best friends you didn’t turn him down when he asked you out.” Said Janet, feigning upset. She could see Sandra squirming and was having a little fun at her expense. “Just think, I could have been Mrs Barry Waters right now, married to the biggest loser this side of the Thames. He’s currently working as a street cleaner in the high street.” “You are kidding me!?” Sandra exclaimed. “But he was such a spunk at school.”

“Ah ha! I knew it! You did have a crush on him,” Janet said. “You should see him now, skinny as a rake, long greasy hair, stubbly beard, yuck.”

“Sounds like we both had a narrow escape, so let’s see what you did end up with then.” “Hey, watch how you talk about the love of my life you.” Janet feigned offence this time, “He’s not in many of the holiday snaps because he’s the amateur photographer of the family and is normally behind the camera. If you flick to the back of the album, the last half dozen pages should be of wedding photos that friends gave us after the honeymoon. We have a proper album, but we put heaps of disposable cameras out on the reception tables and got people to click away all night. We ended up with some great pictures.”

“We did the same thing! It was Graham’s idea really, said he’d seen it at a friend’s wedding,” Sandra replied. “Anyway, let’s have a lo...” As the page fell open in front of her, Sandra was frozen in mid-sentence. There was one large picture centred on the page. It showed Janet in her wedding dress, looking stunning in pure white satin, with a beautiful bouquet and matching flower tiara. She was standing in the grounds of the registry office where she had been married; in the background was a picturesque willow tree and flower beds. What you couldn’t see in the picture was the magnificent old grey stone building which housed the registry office. However, Sandra knew it was there, as this was the same building in which she had got married. In fact she had a photograph taken in the grounds almost identical to this one. Right down to the husband. It was not the astonishing coincidence of the location that had stopped Sandra dead in her tracks, more the fact that the man standing opposite Janet, holding her hands and was obviously, the groom was her husband! Her Graham, not Janet’s Graeme.

She began to hyperventilate and felt like she was choking on her own tongue, completely unable to speak, She could only gargle and splutter. Someone had cut the cable on her emotional elevator and she was now plummeting to the basement.

“My God Sandra, What’s the matter, are you choking?” Janet asked in a panicked voice. “Hang on, I’ll go and get you a glass of water.” Janet took off to the kitchen and while she was gone, Sandra managed to get her breathing under control, although her hands were still trembling in her lap like a pair of dying birds. She reached out and shakily pulled back the protective plastic and removed the photo, holding it closer to her face and studying it in detail. It was definitely her Graham in fact, if she wasn’t mistaken, he was wearing the same suit he’d been wearing when they’d got married two years after this. It was definitely him, the same casual stance, same hairstyle even that ridiculous moustache he had had when they first met. He was identical down to the mole on his neck he always tried to hide under his collar. She couldn’t stop the tears from coming and they were in full flow when Janet returned with the water.

“God, Sandra, what’s the matter, are you okay?” she asked, obviously concerned, she noticed that Sandra was trembling and passed her the water. “Here, drink some of this, it might help.” Sandra took the offered tumbler, and her shaking hands caused the liquid to slosh around in the glass and when she raised it to her mouth, it chinked against her teeth. In a shaky voice she managed to stammer out. “I th...th...think I mi...mi...might n...need something a little st...stronger than th...th...this. You m...may want to p...pour yourself one as well.” She breathed deeply, gradually trying to regain control of herself. “For Christ’s sake Sandra, what the hell is this all about? You’re starting to scare me.” Janet asked nervously.

“Get the drinks and I’ll tell you,” Sandra said, then paused and took a deep breath, trying to steady her voice again, “Mines a double Jim Beam, I’m sure you’ve probably got some.” Sandra replied.

“Yes I have, actually, it’s Graeme’s favourite tipple.” Giving her old friend a strange look, Janet went to the sideboard, opened the right-hand door and pulled out a bottle of Jim Beam and two whisky glasses. After pouring a generous measure into both she returned and sat back on the settee next to Sandra, placing both glasses and the bottle in front of them. The two women looked at each other, Sandra found it hard to hold Jan’s gaze, not knowing what to say at first, she could see the concern in her friend’s eyes. Then she remembered something, she had a photo of her Graham in her purse in her handbag. “I need to show you something Jan, but please don’t hate me.”

“What is it, Sandra? I’m really scared now.” Janet’s voice was starting to quiver as Sandra’s had before. Sandra reached down the side of the sofa to where she had left her handbag and pulled it up by the handles, placing it on the cushions between them. Initially she just absently caressed the side of her bag, as if stroking a pet cat; she was staring passed Janet’s shoulder, trying desperately to find the words she needed. Eventually she gave up, silently opened her bag, and removed her purse. Popping open the brass button, she revealed a plastic photo window and turned it to show Janet. lt was her wedding photo, sure enough Graham was wearing the same suit. It only took a few seconds for Janet to recognise her Graeme and she went through the whole gamut of emotions in the next few seconds following that. At first she was puzzled, “How did you get one of my wedding photos? Did you just put that in there while I was getting the drinks?”

“Look closer.” was all Sandra could say. She watched as the realisation dawned across her friend's face, It was like a series of picture slides were being shown there in quick succession on the canvas of her face. She finally said,

“Oh. My. God. That is, you, isn’t it? And that’s, that’s...him.”

“I’m pretty sure, yeah.” Was Sandra’s reply. “I was pretty certain as soon as I saw your wedding picture, it was like some bizarre Deja vu. Now, I don’t know, I’m just numb, my mind can’t get passed the bigamy thing. I mean, you were married first right, so that means my marriage isn’t legal, doesn’t it? My kids are officially all bastards, I’m ‘The Other Woman’, you’re the cheated wife, what’s going to happen now? I can’t go back, can I? Knowing what we know now.” Sandra knew she was babbling but couldn’t stop herself; she was spiralling down the plug hole in a vortex of emotions. “I mean, how can I face him again, share his bed, fuck, share the same house as the arsehole. What will I do? I can’t take his money anymore, can I? It should be yours really, how can he even afford to run two families and what does he really do for a living?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down a minute, they’re all questions that need answers, but let’s take a few steps back and think about this.” Janet was surprised at how calm she felt, after her initial shock. Simultaneously both the women picked up their glasses and downed their dinks. Then, without a word, Janet uncapped the bottle and poured them both an even larger measure than before and they both downed half of that in one gulp. For the next thirty minutes they calmly discussed the ins and outs of the situation, how Graeme/Graham had managed to lead this double life for so long without being caught out. Both women decided that he was unaware of their connection, neither had really mentioned each other in any detail, if at all and since their rediscovery, his ‘work’ had kept him away for most of the time.

“One thing you have to get in your head Sandra, we are both victims here. Neither of us is better than the other just because he married one before the other, he has broken the law, not us ” Janet said firmly

“Jesus, I can’t believe this, how can my life, our lives, of taken such an unreal turn of events in such a short space of time? I really don’t know what to do next; I feel so, so lost,” Sandra replied.

“The only way we’re going to get through this is by sticking together; just remember we’ve got each other.” Again, with almost psychic synchronicity, the two women reached out and grasped each other’s hands and smiled. At least they weren’t alone. Then the moment was broken by a rapping on the front door. Both women jumped slightly and looked around, even though the door was out of sight down the hallway. “Are you expecting anyone?” Sandra asked nervously. “What if it’s Graham come home early?”

“No, no, he’s got keys. Unless he’s forgotten them,” replied Janet, not sounding at all convinced. The rapping came again. “Okay, only one way to find out.” And with this Janet stood and strode confidently down the hall.

“Wait, I’m coming with you.” For some strange reason Sandra suddenly felt uncomfortable, even unsafe, left alone in the lounge. Turning into the hallway, both women could see the outline of a woman’s head and shoulders framed in the opaque glass which filled the top half of the door. Relaxing slightly, knowing it wasn’t Graeme/Graham home early, Sandra waited back halfway down the hall as Janet approached and opened the door. Standing on the doorstep was a slim blonde who Janet estimated to be in her mid-thirties. She was smartly dressed in a blue, matching skirt and jacket with a white silk blouse beneath, she wore little make-up, but had a natural beauty about her. Initially, Janet looked for a clipboard, thinking it was either a charity collection or some sort of survey, but all the woman held in her hands was a large, A4 sized envelope. She held it in both hands, hanging down the front of her midriff, with her thumbs at the back and the other four fingers of both hands pointing straight down the front. Janet thought that all she needed was a twitchy nose and big ears and she’d look like a bloody rabbit. She fought back dark, hysterical laughter. When the woman spoke, her voice had a soft lilting sound to it, almost childlike in its tone, perhaps as you would expect a rabbit to talk in a children’s story.

“Mrs Read? Mrs Graeme Read?” Janet glanced over her shoulder at Sandra, and then replied.

“Well yes, one of them, I guess.” A puzzled look creased the blonde’s face. “Sorry, didn’t mean to be cryptic, I...” The blonde interrupted,

“No, no, it’s just that, well, I didn’t think you’d know already” she said sounding a little confused. Now it was Janet’s turn to be puzzled,

“Well, only just today, but how do you...I mean..., who are you…I mean...God, I don’t know what I mean.” The blonde woman looked down at the envelope in her hands as if noticing it for the first time and then fumbled with the tab, finally opening it, and pulling out a large photograph. She turned it around; it was a wedding photo, one that was becoming sickeningly familiar to Janet. It was in the grounds of the same registry office and there was Graeme in the same suit, but this time with the mystery blonde on her doorstep as the bride. As she turned the photograph to show Janet she said,

"Well you see, I’m the other Mrs Graeme Read.”

Janet’s jaw dropped open in disbelief, all she could say was,

“Oh shit! Not another one.”

From behind her came a loud thump as Sandra hit the hall carpet in a dead faint.