THE PHOTOGRAPH

A family has to decide how to
 celebrate a 100th birthday.

Maude Hazel was within weeks of her one hundredth birthday and fingers were crossed that she’d make it. Her family was not large, she had only two great grandchildren, but due to employment and marriage they had mostly moved away and now occupied some distance between each other. There had never been a great bond between her children, and new generations had continued the dispersion. They all referred to it is as the ‘Hazel Diaspora’, which lent it more importance than it really deserved. 

Since Maude had claimed her ninety ninth, messages had started to flow regarding her centenary celebration. George, her eldest had started the ball rolling by suggesting they all club together and buy her a cruise, 

‘Actually a mini cruise,’ he added. 

He was a wealthy solicitor and it seemed a perfect solution. It would take up little of his time and less of his money if they all chipped in. As he lived nearest to Maude it might fall upon him to be the host of some ghastly celebration, something he was at pains to avoid. His two sisters, Lucy and Jane, were horrified at the cruise idea, and the younger brother, Martin, who seldom had a firm grasp on common sense, protested that she might meet someone, get married, and leave all her money to a ‘toy boy’.

 ‘Those kinds of things are always happening on boats,’ he added. Jane ignored this but did recall, much to everyone’s horror, that Maude had mentioned something about a cat’s home. George decided there and then to have her sanity examined, and Martin never one to be left out, suggested.

’She should be made a ward of court,’ to which there was no reply. 

With less than a month to go the ether was filling up with emails, text messages, mobile phone calls, and extended conference calls which allowed everyone to speak at once but few to listen.

It was an offhand remark made by one of the great grandchildren that began to take root as a solution. Her mother had reported Jemima saying that one of her friend’s mums had engaged a professional to take a photograph of all her family and relatives. Then they had a framed print given to everyone. George thought giving everyone a print was a bit extravagant,

‘Surely just an image would be more than satisfactory, and that could be emailed.’

It then occurred to him he knew someone at his practice who was an excellent photographer who would do a perfectly good job for a bottle of Scotch, 

‘Actually half a bottle,’ he added.

Lucy said it was a good idea but a professional would be better. Jane didn’t care so long as they could all,

‘ . . .  stay at a nice hotel and  have separate bedrooms because and Malcolm snores. 

George poured himself a stiff one. Martin thought that it would be fun if they all camped in Maude’s garden. Martin was single. George’s daughter, Pippa, said a photograph was out of the question unless she had something new to wear. Gretchen, George’s other daughter, wondered if just Simon her new husband would be ok, or would Brian have to be there as he is the father of Maude’s great grandchild. George thought that two spouses could set a precedent and there’s only so many people one can photograph before they all become unrecognisable. His wife, Sue, not usually so vociferous, said that Laura’s twins refuse to be separated and must be with their partners and on no account will they sit anywhere near the ‘brothers from hell’, meaning Dan and Mel’s two boys. Sue then asked,

‘Will we be sitting anyway?’ 

No one knew.

The afore mentioned Brian happened to be passing Sunday morning and seeing George’s BMW in the drive, called in. He had married Gretchen, got a mortgage, got a daughter, got dumped, got a divorce, never moved away and had always been angry. He had heard about the proposed photograph and insisted he be included as the father of Maude’s first great grandchild. George explained that the list had not been finalised. Brian had never forgiven Gretchen for the split, or the way she had set up home on the south coast where it was difficult for him to exercise his parental rights. He demanded he should be photographed with Gretchen and ‘their’ daughter. He particularly emphasised the ‘their’. Receiving this news Gretchen screamed and inadvertently spilt some red wine over her iPod. Simon made some crass remark regarding her fondness for red wine, well wine in general, the result of which was that he got to wear what was left of it. Pippa’s eldest daughter, Clare, was asked what she thought but refused to answer, the very thought of it, she said, made her feel sick. Her sister however thought it would be ‘well cool’ and was going to dye her hair purple and wear a nose ring, at which Pippa, her mother, totally lost it.

Sue, you remember George’s wife, had remained for the most part, aloof. She was aware that George’s fascination for detail was strictly limited to working hours, so asking him how many people were actually going to be in this photograph had exactly the response she predicted; none. The reason being he had immediately jumped into his car and gone off to his golf club. The destination was a presumption only proved right four hours later when a friend phoned to say he needed picking up, being ‘too tired to drive home’. 

Safely in bed and out of the way, Sue invited George’s two sisters to a conference call and within half an hour Maude’s centenary celebration had been discussed, decided upon and arranged by the three women, amongst themselves. Only they knew who would be invited and what they would do. It was a secret, what it wasn’t, was a photograph.