XIII.

Stuart settled into a chair in a waiting room at the station with a cup of tea while Regina was working in the dark room. Rapidly taping his foot on the floor, he considered the chances of Regina delivering another pack of irregular photos to him. Desperately trying to move his thoughts to another topic, he remembered Carol's kind face and wondered whether it would be a good idea to pay her a visit while he was in town. Carol knew him well, and even if she hadn't, she was a woman of particular intellect which enabled her to easily read people. She'd notice something's bothering him. He dropped the idea.

Regina approached him militarily and dropped a bunch of photos into his lap. "All normal!"

He convinced himself of the correctness of her claim. Normal and commendable indeed, good enough to convince Maxwell their collaboration is a good choice.

Maxwell expressed his admiration with stingy compliments. He arranged the photos on the board in his office and rubbed his hands against each other. He suggested them to stay in a particular diner with lodgings and treated them to dinner despite Regina's counteraction. A vast dining area decorated with stuffed animals and fur covering walls made Stuart uneasy. His father used to have a stuffed deer's head in his working room, a gift from an old colleague. Similar one was starring at Stuart while he chewed stingy chop.

"Didn't you mention you have family in Edinburgh?", Regina asked.

"Oh", he pretended this coincidence hadn't already come to his mind. "Aye, I do."

"Should we visit them?"

Stuart pretended to be occupied by staring competition with a deer.

Spending the night in an unfamiliar bed was easier than he expected. In fact, he hadn'slept so well for days. Not a single dream troubled him. Both in a good mood, they were ready to leave early in the morning. None of them mentioned photos they took the day before, but Stuart knew Regina hadn't gave them all away. She reserved some for the press people. They stopped once before leaving the town. After less than five minutes, Regina came back to the cab, carrying an envelope with money instead of photos with which she entered the building of one of Scotland's main tabloids.

In Dunfermline Regina went out in the suburbs where she lived. "See you tomorrow, right?", she said without waiting for an answer before closing the door. Stuart noticed she had left an envelope in the cab upon arriving to his place. Suppressing his hurt pride, he took out the money to pay the driver. He was surprised to discover one photo crammed with the banknotes. Poisoned girl was motionless in the bathtub, her eyes closed as if she was only sleeping, arms gently laid in her lap. Stuart found himself wondering who could have done such a thing to her. Poison a child? Why? Were her parents really the ones who had done it? For someone who could say all kind of things about his parents, he found it hard to imagine people who would take the life of their own offspring.

He hid the photo when a customer entered his studio. He soon regretted allowing Regina to take unannounced day off for it turned out to be a very busy day. Locals who looked upon Stuart's work with suspicion for years suddenly wanted to be photographed. A family of ten wanted their eight children to have each their own portrait, young friends and couples had a sudden wish to perpetuate their communion, old folks got an urge to provoke their conservatism. Stuart was glad to close the studio when the night fell. He lighted up the fireplace and collapsed into a chair in front of it.

Dreams swiftly took hold of him. He was running up the stairs, a light-footed child once again, carrying a bag full of sweetened fruit the Cook had secretly given him. He hurried quietly past his parents' bedrooms and slipped through the ajar door to where Oliver was waiting. Formally, he wasn't allowed to go in there since Oliver had a fever. Only their mother and a nurse were allowed to visit him. He needed maximum peace to rest. However, nurse was fast asleep in her chair next to boy's bed, and Stuart brought presents.

"Gee, man", Oliver gladly took the bag from his little brother. "You're the best. And pass my thanks to Gilda, too!" He coughed and the nurse stirred, but remained ignorant of the world outside of her dreams. "Mum would kill you if she knew you were here! She doesn't want you to get sick."

Stuart ignored Oliver's warning. Not only because he didn't care whether he gets sick or not, but also because he knew Oliver lied. Their mother cared less about Stuart's well-being and more about Oliver not being bothered by the "annoying kid", as their father called him from time to time, although Stuart never pestered anyone.

"Get better soon, Olie", Stuart begged him, "it's sunny outside and I miss playing with you!"

"You can play with other kids from the village."

"Yeah, but it's not the same", Stuart lowered his head. "They're not really fond of me when you don't come along." He had no idea what to talk about with other kids or how to play without Oliver's assistance. He lied when he said he played with others. He gave it up after Oliver's first day in bed and spent most of his days in the kitchen, shaping the dough for biscuits. His brother was his best friend. Stuart was lost without him.

"How will you survive when I leave for school?", Oliver asked in good humour, but a glimmer of concern was hearable in his voice.

"I'll go with you!"

Oliver ruffled his hair and laughed. "Sure you will, some day!"

They heard steps in the corridor. Their mother! Stuart hurried to escape before she found him in the forbidden place, but he had no time, so Oliver urged him to hide under the bed. The door opened and someone came in. Stuart held his breath, hoping she won't notice him.

"I lost my home!" Head covered with greasy hair bent down and glassy eyes looked straight at him. The girl was crying, her lips trembled while she spoke: "Why did they abandon me?"

A horrible foreboding struck him when the dream broke into tiny pieces. Guided by unknowable intuition, he crossed the room in four steps and headed straight to the studio. Without a lamp, he hardly saw anything, but tapping with his hands on the floor he found the photo. He pulled back the curtain. Sky was clear and the moon was full. Even without his spectacles he saw clearly as he had seen through the lens two days before.

The girl in the photo stood in the bath with her eyes wide open.