‘They’re expensive, huh? Good cameras?’
‘Yeah, like, really. I had to save up for ages for the one I use now.’
‘You must really love it, the photography thing.’
‘It’s…something I need to do. When I’m shooting, I forget about everything else.’ I think about it as I work. It’s true: regardless of opportunities or validation, making images is important to me. I don’t worry about anything when I’m out with the camera. ‘There’s something about it I find really energising. But it’s weirdly peaceful, too.’
He nods, and I wonder if he understands or if he’s just humouring me to keep me talking. But maybe Harris gets it. Maybepeacefulis something he’s only ever had in short supply.
I try to explain further. ‘It’s just me and the camera and what’s in front of me. The next shot, and the next, looking for the right framing, the colours… And you don’t really see until you check the frames on a big screen and print it up, it’s all just trusting you’ve got it right. It’s capturing the unexpected.’ I smile as I tear open a sterile swab packet, grab the Betadine solution. ‘Plus you come out of it with something you can look at, and remember.’
‘It’s a bubble of time.’ He winces as I dab a tender spot. ‘You can go back to it.’
‘I guess.’ I feel myself flush.Thisis unexpected. I hardly ever let myself get overenthusiastic about my pictures in conversation.
‘But you changed,’ Harris says. ‘You used to do those big landscapes, big sheets of light and colour –’
‘Your style changes as you grow up.’ I didn’t mean that to come out so bitey. I swallow, rephrase. ‘I stopped doing landscapes. They just felt a bit…naïve. Now I do close-ups.’
‘Of broken stuff. And suffocating trees.’
‘I thought you said you liked them?’
‘Hey, don’t get mad, they’re good, those ones. But I like your old photos.’ Harris isn’t looking at me and his voice is gruff. ‘The space in ‘em. Like you could jump into the background and fly.’ I’m still staring at him when he changes the subject. ‘And, um, how’s your nanna?’
But I’m thinking about it now. Those spaces, those big sheets of light and colour… They stopped about four years ago. Did Mum’s death really change my style that much? I’ve never considered it like that before. What else about me has narrowed down?
Flustered, I swipe my hot cheek with the back of my hand, concentrate on sizing the wound dressing. ‘You seriously want updates about my relatives?’ I conjure a smile, shrug. ‘Nani’s fine, I guess.’
‘You guess?’
‘She’s… Well, you know how I said she’s my dotty nanna?’
He nods.
‘She’s been acting a bit more dotty than usual.’ I clear my throat. ‘My cousin is getting married next week. Everyone’s running around, getting the wedding organised, and I don’t know if they’ve noticed how Nani’s going. She’s started talking about my dead grandfather like he’s still here.’
He tilts his head to see my eyes. ‘You’re worried about her.’
My smile tightens. ‘I’m kind of close with her. I spent a lot of time with her and my cousins when I was a kid. My mum used to take me up to visit a lot. And after Mum died, Nani was really supportive…’
Harris waits until it’s obvious I’m not going to go on. ‘Hey. I’m sorry about your mum.’
‘It’s okay.’ I blink my eyes a few times to remind them not to do anything stupid. Unpeel the plastic off a roll of bandage. ‘What I mean to say is, me and Nani have a connection. I look out for her.’
‘Don’t your cousins help her with stuff?’
‘Yeah, but she’s getting older and more forgetful. She needs more help these days. Like Dad.’
‘Your dad?’ Harris cocks an eyebrow. ‘He seems fine to me.’
‘Dad has a heart condition.’ I see Harris’s face. ‘It’s not major. It’s just something he’s developed as he’s gotten older. That’s why he’s retiring.’
‘That’s gotta be tough on him, having to hang up the badge.’
‘Yeah, he’s not thrilled about it.’ I adjust his leg so I can wrap the bandage, assess his expression before I ask the next relevant question. ‘So how’re things going withyourdad, now you’ve shifted?’
He sighs. Since we had the conversation around the table at my place and he agreed to narc, it seems like he just can’t be bothered glossing it up.
