‘I don’t think so. I’ve never really considered…’
I waited. He didn’t finish, but I got the idea.
‘Because you don’t think they’re good enough or because you want to keep it purely as a hobby. Untainted by commercialism.’
He looked back up at me from where he was crouched, replacing his camera in the bag. ‘You’re making fun.’ He smiled.
I plopped down and sat cross-legged beside him. ‘No. OK. Yes, a little. But only because I know you can take it.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘Are you going to answer the question?’
He sat back from the crouch onto his bum, facing me.
‘I just never considered it. Well, I did. But not in a real way. Just in a “that might be nice” sort of way. Once or twice.’
‘I think you’re an amazing photographer, Charlie. I really do. And I told you what Tilly said when she saw your photos from our day out.’
‘Libby—’ he reached for my hand ‘—I really appreciate that. But it’s a massively competitive market. I just don’t think I have the time to dedicate to looking into something like that as well.’
An idea struck me. I jumped up. ‘You should start a blog!’
‘What?’ he said, pushing himself off the floor and towering over me once more.
‘A blog. For your photography! You should start one!’ I was gripped by enthusiasm on his behalf – which apparently I needed to be because he wasn’t showing a whole lot himself, but then that wasn’t really his way. I was definitely the show-every-emotion one in this friendship.
Gripped by enthusiasm for the possibilities of this new project, I suddenly realised that that wasn’t the only thing I was gripping and let go of Charlie’s arm.
‘Sorry.’
‘It’s all right.’ He chuckled. He was looking at me with that half-amused, half-bemused expression I’d only ever seen him use on me.
I stepped away a bit, linking my hands behind me, just in case, as I felt the excitement bubbling away inside me.
‘So, a blog?’
‘Yes!’ I squeaked!
Oops! Bit too much excitement. But I was excited! I had memories of how it had felt starting my own blog and the prospect of getting Charlie set up was giving me flashbacks of that and it felt good. His photography was amazing and I wanted other people to realise that. Which they would, once they saw it.
He shrugged and held his hands up, palms upward. ‘OK.’
‘OK?’
‘OK. Let’s do it. Although I need to warn you, I have absolutely no idea about blogging.’
‘That’s all right. I know someone who has a bit of a knack for this sort of stuff.’ I winked at him and he laughed. I grinned, seeing my own enthusiasm now beginning to reflect in his eyes.
14
I grabbed my laptop, sat on the sofa and crossed my legs, making a table for the laptop on my knees. Pulling up the Internet, I typed in the web address for a well-known, easy-to-use blogging platform. Charlie took a seat next to me.
‘So, have you thought what you might want to call it?’
‘It?’
‘The blog?’
