Mitchell Parker

Mitchell Parker couldn’t believe his luck. On his lunchtime walk between interviewing job candidates, he’d stumbled upon something very intriguing indeed. His eyes opened wide as he took in the scene, his heart making little skips of excitement.

Across the small park, on a bench, sat the woman. It was the very same woman that he and another colleague had spent the morning with, in a windowless room, interviewing engineers for the new bridge project. The woman was the chair of the panel, which was just another role that should have been Mitchell’s, but that was another story. The bench sat amongst a small stand of trees but was not nearly well hidden enough for what appeared to be going on there.

The intriguing and delectable detail of the scene before him was that the other person sitting on the bench was a man, and none other than the candidate they had interviewed before lunch. Had the women declared a conflict of interest about this applicant? No, she had not. Had she disclosed that she knew him outside of work? She certainly hadn’t. Nor had she mentioned having any additional knowledge of him when they had discussed his merits after he’d left the interview. And now, reaching into his trouser pocket for his mobile phone, Mitchell was about to have the perfect ammunition to finally bring this horrible woman down.

Mitchell waited amongst a second small group of trees as he watched the two on the bench. Any moment now he would have the photographic evidence he needed, but he just needed them to acknowledge each other. He mustn’t ruin it by revealing himself. A young man walked by with a small, black dog that sniffed at Mitchell’s ankle and he held his breath as he waited for them to move on. He thought about the look on his director’s face when he was finally able to show him that this woman wasn’t the bright light and upcoming leader that they all thought she was. Sure, she had a history of leading successful, international projects and everyone else in the office seemed to like her, but he just knew there was more to her. And now it was clear that she had no integrity at all.

On the bench, the man and woman sat side by side, staring straight ahead, not a word spoken. They didn’t touch one another, didn’t look at each other, didn’t acknowledge each other’s presence at all. So still were they that Mitchell was forced to doubt himself and wonder if it was a coincidence after all that they were sitting on the same bench. He sighed with impatience and looked at his watch. His stomach grumbled, reminding him that he still needed to eat his lunch before the panel resumed. The small trees made meagre shade and he sweated under the high sun. He wanted to take his jacket off. 

Just as he considered the possibility that he might have to give up, the woman spoke. There was no-one else in their vicinity, so she must have been speaking to the man! Evidence! If Mitchell was close enough to hear or better at lip-reading, he would know for certain, but he believed she said, ‘I won’t tell them.’ He had very little doubt. When he thought about the shapes her lips had made, and copied them silently to himself, he became increasingly sure. Unfortunately, he was too slow with his camera button to capture her speaking, but he did capture what happened next, which was that the man stood up and walked away. The women reached into her bag and took out a sandwich.

Mitchell immediately reviewed his photos, and his elation began to fade as he considered that they might not be quite as explosive as he’d first imagined. With a sinking heart he accepted that the photos showed nothing conclusive at all. Two people on a bench, one person walking away from the bench, one opening a sandwich. With a furious sigh, he pocketed his phone and strode out from the trees, marching close by the woman on his way past. She looked up and smiled at him, but he pretended not to see her.

Copyright Sophie Ransom 2025