Just a mistake!

JUST A MISTAKE.
Oh how Jenny had enjoyed herself. She had called Lisa and asked her to
meet her in town for Coffee. Lisa had said that as the Exhibition
opened the next day she was really very busy, but Jenny was not for
taking "No" for an answer she had something "Terribly important" to
tell her.
Jenny was the wife of her husbands best friend, she was also one of
those people who thrived on somebody else's misery, always on the look
out to turn her sad little life into a Soap Opera. She considered work
to be beneath her "Now that our Grahams Assistant Managing Director"
and spent her days scavenging over the tips of other peoples
metaphorical dirty linen, always looking for that little piece of
incriminating tittle-tattle.
Lisa had gasped in horror as Jenny offered to meet her at the Gallery
instead, if she did that they would never get rid of her. She had
bitten the bullet and met the nasty little woman in Brooks coffee
shop.
It was over bitter Coffee and soggy Danish Pastry that Jenny had told
Lisa of seeing Dave, Lisa's husband and Liz her best friend, having
very cosy drinks together at "Richoche" a yuppie wine bar over on the
other side of town. Lisa had tried to deny the accusations the spiteful
goblin had made, first to her then later driving back to the gallery to
herself. She had suspected Dave of having an affair for some weeks now.
Hell, she had even spoken to Liz about it. The two faced bitch had
assured her that Dave was besotted with her, and would NEVER do a thing
like that.
When she got into the gallery, ripe for confrontation, Liz had already
left.
Everything was finally organised for the next day.

Lisa sat late among the exhibits, sipping more unpalatable coffee, and
running over in her mind all the times Dave had been late. Late
meetings, late games of golf with the lads. She began to piece these
together with all the times that Liz had said she was leaving early.
Like two pieces of a jig-saw they fit perfectly leading up to the
previous night. Liz leaving to meet "Aprospective client" about a
commission. What would have been more suitable, than to have met him at
the gallery where she could have shown him some of her finished work
and work in progress?

Then there was Dave!
"No my darling don't bother waiting up. Tedious meeting, followed by
drinks with collegues. Can't say when I'll be back, very late. Likely
to go on. Horribly boring, much rather be here with you" When had he
become such a glib and accomplished liar?
Lisa had done so much for Liz. How could she do this to her? The women
had met at art-college and clicked instantly becoming close and firm
friends almost overnight. Lisa had encouraged Liz ten years her Junior,
and the less accomplished artist. She had guided her, watched her style
develop, saw her bloom, took a "big sisterly" pride as her friend's
gawky adolescent strokes took on the sophistication and flair of a
talented artist in her own right. It was Lisa who had passed over
commissions to her and gave her the confidence to sell. Pushed her into
the spotlight until the two women completely dominated the local art
scene. When Lisa had been offered this prime gallery slot, for the
month of June, she had jumped at it and then decided to split the
hanging space with her friend. She had plenty of finished pieces to
work the exhibition herself but wanted to share it with Liz.
"And anyway" she had said stopping the flow of her friends
protestations "This way if we both leave 'em wanting more, we can do it
again later in the year. give 'em a chance to save some more
pennies!"

The women had worked well together in the months leading up to the big
exhibition, many late nights were filled, paint splattered glass of
wine in one hand paint brush in the other. Each woman was furiously
involved in her art yet still breaking off every few minutes to talk
about sex, or men, or sex! They had publicised and advertised, argued
over layout and which would hang where, stressed out and
laughed&;#8230; together.
The women had shared more than the odd glass of wine and coffee they
shared their lives. Told each other all their hopes and dreams for the
future. Trusted implicitly. Lisa had often told Liz just how lucky she
was to have such a wonderful husband.
How could she do this? How could he do it? Liz had actually told Lisa
the other day about an
Affair with a married man. But had insisted it was over he was "Just a
mistake."

As she sat, Lisa became more and more furious. They weren't going to
get away with this. She played back all the intimate smiles that she
had caught flashing between the two people closest in all the world to
her, How could she possibly have missed seeing them for what they were?
She was such a fool, she had been so happy that her husband and best
friend got on so well together. She had even laughed heartily when Dave
had snuck up behind Liz and tickled her. How easily, how naturally, she
had turned into his arms and hugged him close laughing all the time.
How they must have laughed at her when they were alone together in bed.
Had they been in HER bed? She rang Dave, trying desperately hard to
sound normal. She told him she'd be late home. One or two last minute
details she said, just to make sure everything was perfect for the next
day.

Now she was sure. There was no escaping that note of relief in his
voice. There was a tone of "Can't get rid of you fast enough" in his
voice.
With the air of a surgeon preparing for surgery, she donned her comfy
paint daubed overall. She had a lot to do.
It was a beautiful day for the Grande Opening. The press had turned out
in force and were now held at bay by the thick curtain that the Lord
Mayor would draw to announce the opening of the exhibition. Dave had
gone to pick Liz up. The poor thing did look peaky, when they finally
walked in together. She full of profuse apologies for not being there
all day. Twelve Sennapods in her morning coffee had seen to that. It
had been imperative to her plan for vengeance being a success, that Liz
didn't see her paintingss before the opening. Liz put her intimacy with
the littlest room that day down to nerves. Dave's arm rested lightly
against Liz's shoulders supporting her and she turned into him just
slightly.
Dave's wife stood apart alone.
The Lord Mayor took the podium .Ahundred and fifty people gathered
round, a better first night turn out than they'd dared to expect. The
press photographers had their cameras poised waiting to click away for
their front-page spread in the local rag.
"Now then before we start Ladies and Gentlemen. If I could first have
Miss. Liz Hope, and Mr. David Taylor up on the stage please I believe
they have a little surprise for a certain lady artist, who has a
birthday this week. I understand there has been much plotting, scheming
and secret meetings going on behind this ladies back. Good job they
both love her isn't it?" Polite tittering from the audience.
Lisa's feet had felt leaden as they walked up onto the stage to accept
the beautiful portrait Liz had done for her. It had taken weeks of
sittings and was her best work ever. A stunning portrait of Dave
flanked by their two Red Setters. Liz had cried as she hugged Lisa and
told her she loved her. Lisa had cried too, but for a very different
reason. Just a little mistake.
The Mayor had drawn the curtain ... and everyone had flocked into the
exhibition.
Lisa had known it wouldn't be long before pandemonium had broken out.
Lisa's pictures were wonderful, beautifully lit, well displayed ready
to be received.
Liz's pictures were also well lit and ready to be received.
The look on Liz's face had been a picture itself, as she had walked
round her beloved work in silence.
Lisa stammered and stuttered "It was just a mistake. I am so sorry Liz,
it was just a mistake"

They stopped first at the obligatory still life "Bowl of fruit" in one
place the varnish had been carefully removed, and the banana replaced
by a large vibrator. Little lines gave the effect of the huge, pink
realistically veined and headed, penis moving on top of the fruit. Lisa
coloured in shame.
They moved onto "Lovers at Dawn" ... a beautifully poignant picture of
two naked lovers entwined in sweet embrace .She was now covered in
tribal tattoos while he had a stick of Blackpool rock where his penis
had once been and was wearing a "Kiss me quick hat."
Now onto her piece-de-resistance The abstract Liz had called
"Confusion." At first glance it looked fine. But, as you peered more
closely the little primary coloured blocks formed two words ... " You
Arsehole" these framed the perfect view of a large backside with
pouting mouth.
Liz walked round a second time, still not having said a single word
shocked into stunned silence. Lisa babbled out the whole sorry tale.
The paintings, The Senapods, Jenny having seen them out having their
celebratory "End of sitting" drink together everything.
Liz moved to the bench in the middle of the room. She sat and slowly
bent her head into her hands, Her shoulders started to heave and when
she looked up tears were running down her cheeks. She was laughing so
hard that she nearly choked. Soon both Dave and Lisa had joined in too.
People stood around looking bemused as the three friends hugged and
laughed and slid down the wall to sit on the floor in hysterics.
This image was the picture greeting them on The Daily Format front page
the next day.
The exhibition was a great success. The write up in the paper was
spectacular. Both women sold out, but Miss Liz Hope was acclaimed the
most brave, radical and trendy artist of the decade. People were
already placing orders for her next works of "unusual -contemporary"
art.