19 May 2024
In the Nikon lounge, a tall woman stands in front of a display of plastic flowers hanging from the ceiling on invisible threads. Next to her is a large sign saying DO NOT TOUCH.
—Hi, are you Scarlet?
—Hi, yes I am.
—Well this is a little bit weird, but my friend would very much like to meet you. She’s very shy. She’s from Poland. Thing is, she’s a photographer and she loves your work but I know she’s going to tell you about how her father named her brother Jimmy.
[Short pause]
—After your pa.
Her face, up till now buoyant and focused, crumples and sinks back into itself.
—I’m sorry. You must get it all the time.
She rallies.
—Well, it follows me around. What can I do?
—My own father worked as a civil engineer for Milton Keynes Development Corporation designing drains and foot bridges. Even now, people come up to me and want to talk about the Newport Pagnell Culvert, and tell me they’ve seen bootleg footage of the old Coffee Hall Underpass.
She struggles to resist the smile attempting to wriggle across her mouth, then gives in to it. Her face brightens.
My hand flaps at my side, beckoning. Nina shuffles forward from the shadows and Scarlet extends her hand.
