A rush of warmth suffused Ryan’s skin. Being compared to Cutler Shaw was the biggest compliment he could think of. ‘You haven’t changed at all.’
‘Ah, shaddup. I can’t hardly walk without a stick any more. Plus I can’t see much without my glasses. That’s why I didn’t believe my eyes.’
‘You never could see much,’ Ryan teased. ‘We used to get away with hell whenever you forgot to wear them.’
‘Oh, I knew what you boys were up to, I just chose to ignore it. Now come over here, and introduce me to this little fella.’ Stan pointed at Charlie.
Ryan walked forward, grabbing Stan’s hand in his own. Charlie shuffled shyly next to him. ‘This is my son, Charlie.’
‘Well it’s mighty good to meet you, Charlie. I can tell just by looking at you that you’re a good kid. Not like your wayward dad, here.’ Stan’s voice was teasing, enough t
hat even Charlie got the joke. The small smile that curled at the corner of his lips made Ryan want to grin.
‘Hey, less of the wayward. And it’s good to see you, too.’
‘How long’re you back for?’
A ray of sun bounced off the windows of one of the yachts, causing Ryan to blink. ‘We’re here for Kindergarten year, aren’t we, Charlie?’ Ryan said. ‘Thought we’d settle down enough for the boy to see how he likes school.’
‘He won’t like it that much if he’s anything like his pa.’
Ryan shrugged. ‘Luckily he takes after his mother, too.’
‘She’s a singer,’ Charlie added, still so close to Ryan he could feel his warmth. ‘She’s on a tour.’
‘Is that right?’ Stan asked, shooting a quizzical look at Ryan. ‘So it’s just you and your dad?’
Charlie nodded, becoming braver by the minute. ‘I want to sail a boat like he used to.’
‘You know that little beauty is his, right?’ Stan asked, inclining his head at Miss Maisie. ‘Used to belong to his grandpa, your great-grandpa, and he left her to your pa after he died. I’ve been looking after it while he’s been away.’ Stan glanced at Ryan. ‘If you want to take her out, I just need a couple of days to get her ready.’
‘Yeah, I’d like that a lot,’ Ryan agreed. ‘You think she could be ready by next weekend?’ He could feel Charlie’s body stiffen with excitement next to him.
‘Yup, no problem at all. Just need to give her another wax and fix the sails. Things are quiet around here now the summer’s over, I’ve not got a whole lot of work on.’
Though the wharf was still a working one – the fishing boats leaving first thing in the morning, coming back later in the day with decks full of catches – it was the rich yacht owners that kept it going financially. Being within driving distance of both New York and DC, Shaw Haven had its fair share of second-homers, who increased the wealth of the already well-to-do town.
‘In that case, we’ll be back next Saturday,’ Ryan said, grasping the old man’s hand again. ‘It’s good to see you again, Stan.’
‘Yes it is, boy, yes it is.’
4
It is the east, and Juliet is the sun
– Romeo and Juliet
One of the reasons Ryan had chosen this house was the fact it already had a dark room in the basement. A legacy from the previous tenant, who’d dabbled in photography for a while.
Not that Ryan dabbled. For him it was more of a compulsion. He’d grown up seeing life through a 24mm lens. Now that he earned a wage from it – and a damn good wage at that – it didn’t lessen his excitement every time he captured the perfect scene.
Nowadays most of his photographs were digital, developed on the shiny screen of his laptop rather than in a dank, dark basement. But like a man who preferred to chop his own wood, just to feel the heaviness of the axe in his hand, there was something reassuring at being able to develop the photographs he took with his grandfather’s 1950s Kodak. He worked under the red glow of the safelight as he moved the print from the developing bath to the stop bath, then through the fixer until he could hang it up to dry. It felt good to be doing things this way – using the same processes he had as a kid. Using the same camera he had, too – the one his grandfather had gifted him for his fourteenth birthday.
Back then he’d lost more than a few prints due to overexposure, or not getting the paper into the stop bath fast enough. It took years of practice to develop the perfect print, and yet still there was always the possibility that something could go wrong. For some reason he enjoyed it so much more than messing around on his MacBook.
Ryan finished the final print – of Charlie, clambering over Miss Maisie – then left the room, careful not to expose it to light. Climbing up the stairs to the ground floor, he checked on Charlie, smiling as he saw his sleeping son curled up on top of his covers, his fist jammed against his mouth as he sucked at his thumb. Charlie was used to sleeping anywhere he could – a by-product of his upbringing – but he’d still found it hard to settle down during his first week here in Shaw Haven.
Grabbing a beer from the refrigerator, Ryan ignored the lure of his laptop, instead heading for the deck. He grabbed his camera, intending to unscrew and clean up the lens as he watched the sun go down. But as he stepped outside he realised he wasn’t the only one planning to spend some time out in the evening sun.