Ollie rose and attached the camera to a handheld gimbal. “There’s more about Rudolph in that folder. Why don’t you have a look through it while I pan around a bit?”
Shay nodded and drew the folder of papers towards him. Inside, among other things, he would find Rudolph’s birth and death certificates, records of his marriage and subsequent children, and a single grainy photograph of the hardware shop that had remained in the Kaspersen family for a hundred years after the Battle of Dybbøl. Ollie had committed most pages to memory and leafed through them in his mind as he concentrated on capturing Shay’s reactions.
Shay’s gasp surprised him. “You didn’t tell me about the others.”
Ollie rounded the table, itching to put the camera down and peer over his shoulder, but instead positioned himself in Shay’s line of sight and motioned for him to continue.
Shay shook his head slightly. “It says here that Rudolph’s father and brothers were killed at Dybbøl. His uncle too. Out of five members of the Kasperson family who fought on that day, he was the only one to survive. Wow. That’s crazy.”
“It wasn’t unusual in those days,” Ollie said. “Think of the world wars when conscription was in place. Sometimes villages lost every man between eighteen and thirty-five.”
“That doesn’t make it right.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
Ollie set the camera back on the tripod and returned to the table. Shay’s hands were shaking. Ollie pressed their knees together. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Sure? It’s a lot to take in when you’re starting with nothing.”
“I’m fine. Can I take some pictures of this stuff to show my dad?”
“Of course, but he can’t share it on social media or anything. You need to keep it on the DL until the program comes out.”
“You think my dad’s on Facebook? He’s barely accepted DVDs.”
Ollie chuckled. “My dad is the same. Stuck in the eighties. It kinda works for my grandparents as they brought all the good bits from way before that, but my parents basically don’t like spending money.”
“Are you close to them?”
“Sometimes.”
Shay tore his gaze from the papers spread out on the table. “Sounds loaded.”
“Not on purpose.” Ollie checked his watch. “We’d better wrap this up. I promised Corina I’d have you back by three.”
Shay seemed reluctant to leave, still lost in all that the books and papers in front of him had revealed. Ollie wanted to let him stay, to open every relevant book in Belfast Library and give him the world he was missing, but they’d run out of time. Shay’s story had begun a long time before Ollie received an email with his name in the subject line, and his current pages opened on a stage he was supposed to be soundchecking in twenty minutes’ time.
Ollie turned the camera off and laid a cautious hand on Shay’s slim shoulder. “I’m sorry, mate. We have to go.”
Ten minutes later, they left the library. Shay insisted on carrying Ollie’s laptop bag while Ollie shouldered the camera equipment.
“I thought you were joking when you said you’d be filming the whole thing on your own,” Shay said.
Ollie shot him a sideways glance. “Even when I showed you examples from the last series?”
Shay shrugged. “To be honest, I wasn’t really paying attention that day. I didn’t understand how much it meant, you know?”
“I can imagine.” Ollie had never been in Shay’s position, so he could only gauge how he felt by assumption. “You did really well, though, if it’s any consolation. It was like you forgot the camera was there, and that’s the best way to be.”
“I did forget,” Shay said. “Even when you were moving around with it, it was like it was part of you.”
A rueful snort escaped Ollie. “You should understand that. I don’t make beautiful music, but I can’t imagine ever being without the means to make a film. Even if it’s a split-second clip on my phone, it’s still part of me. I—”
He stopped.What the fuck am I doing?It was Shay who was supposed to be splayed open, not him. And Ollie didn’t talk. Never had. Hisbabciasaid he had an imprisoned heart, and the right soul had the key. But his grandmother said a lot of things.
Shay nudged Ollie. Somehow, they’d both stopped walking. “I understand,” he said softly. “I just didn’t see it in you straight away. I’m sorry.”
