I ask Ma Beaty to sit down, she has back pain and maybe I’m asking a lot. I thought it would be a welcome respite from the Last Will and Testament conversation I’ve just overheard in her kitchen. I sensed her weariness when at last she exclaimed she would give her stuff away on the day she dies. I hear my voice say she may be busy that day. Mercifully she has a sense of humour.

I know I’m pushing it; a car accident has left him unable to hold a cigarette and it’s starting to singe his mouth. But he looks so grand in that hat and I’m struggling to frame. At last, I release and hear and feel the heavy ka-klunk of the mirror bash up and back down again. Someone else’s hand appears in the right of the frame and grabs the burning cigarette from Greg’s lips. With that schoolboy smile, he insinuates […]