Miss Wrong and Mr Right by Robert Bryndza Page B

bankcards held together with a couple of rubber bands.
    ‘Turn it over,’ he said. I did, and inside a cloudy square of plastic wrapper was an old black and white photo. I carefully took it out. It was of a young couple, sat on the ledge of a window, looking out over the backdrop of a fishing village.
    ‘Tuscany… Nineteen fifty-four…’ he wheezed taking another drag.
    ‘She’s very beautiful,’ I said looking at the woman. Her long brown hair shone in the sun, and she was wearing a plain blouse buttoned up almost to the neck. You could still see she had an amazing figure. Beside her was a dark, lean, handsome man in a roll neck jumper. He had his arm slung over her shoulder and was smiling into the sun.
    ‘Is this you?’ I asked.
    ‘Can you believe it?’ he said. ‘I can remember that photo like it was last week, seems like it was only last bloody week!’
    ‘Was she your girlfriend?’ I asked, still holding the photo.
    ‘Girlfriend? I bloody married her!’ he said. ‘You think I’d let her get away! We were together sixty-three years.’ He seemed like he was going to cough, but didn’t. He was quiet for a moment, then his eyes filled up. I found a tissue and passed it to him.
    ‘I’m a daft bastard, aren’t I?’
    ‘No!’ I protested. ‘She was the one, yes?’
    ‘Oh she was indeed,’ he said wistfully. ‘Claire was the one…’
    I gently packed the photo back in its plastic in the purse, and handed it back to him. He tucked it carefully in his blankets.  
    ‘Even ten years ago I could have given any bloke a run for his money,’ he said coughing again. ‘You got a husband?’
    ‘No,’ I said.
    ‘Boyfriend?’
        ‘Um. Not sure,’ I said.
    ‘Well, if you want your mind made up I’m in Ward 69, for want of a better number!’
    I laughed. The nurse appeared behind us.
    ‘Ah, here’s my prison warder,’ he said. She smiled and nodded at me.
    ‘Has he been behaving himself?’
    ‘He’s been a gentleman,’ I said.  
    What am I going to do with you Gerald?’ said the nurse. She was pretty with black hair, and she looked good in her uniform.  
    ‘You can join us. My dying wish is a threesome!’ he said, winking at me. The nurse gave me a wry look and then wheeled him away.  

    I went back inside to the cubicle where Benjamin slept. A mattress had been delivered, and was rolled up and propped against the wall. I could unroll that mattress, and stay the night or…   A realisation fell on me from a great height. Benjamin wasn’t the one. How had it taken me so long to realise the obvious?  
    I opened the locker beside the bed, and gently pulled his phone out of the plastic bag. I switched it on, muffling the start-up tone with my hand. After a moment, it asked me to enter a PIN. I stared at the little box with four underscored lines… I tried my birthday, but it was incorrect. I had two attempts remaining. I had no clue when Laura’s birthday was, then I realised that the only person Benjamin was really in love with was Benjamin. I keyed in his birthday, and was shocked when the phone unlocked.  
    I looked up, he was still asleep.
    I scrolled through texts, and emails, and saw that Laura featured heavily. It seemed things had been going on for some time, and there were even pictures, taken over the last couple of months, unappetising Readers Wives-style pictures. I won’t go into too much detail, but I can tell you that Laura has fifteen piercings. Eight of which are below her neck.
    I took out my phone and wrote Laura a text message, telling her she was welcome to Benjamin, and to claim her prize she would have to pick him up from the hospital tomorrow. I then went back to Benjamin’s phone, opened his Facebook account and found the BenjiYoga page. After a moment’s debate, I wrote the following message and posted it to his five thousand followers:

    ‘Apologies, but all BenjiYoga classes are cancelled until further notice.  
    My girlfriend caught me sleeping