Sammy and Dan have now finished their session – it’s gone on longer than scheduled – and are having a chat at another table in the café. I go over and ask how it’s gone.
“I’m trying to throw interesting things in his path and encourage him to ask questions,” says Dan. “So yes, he looked at the toothbrush holder and asked himself why the light came on. He still doesn’t know, but that’s for next time.”
“Are you inspired,” I ask Sammy, “or just scratching the surface?”
“Probably a bit of both,” he replies.
“So is this going to be a weekly thing?”
“It could be,” says Dan. “It’ll just depend when we can both find the time.” Someone has told me Dan used to be high up in the engineering firm Plessey, before starting his own company. “I had a factory with 115 employees to look after,” he is telling me. “I had a very busy life but now there is nobody.”
The last hour or so I have been inside The Edge I’ve noticed that the light outside has been fabulous: clear and crisp with white clouds against a blue sky. I know there is a road parallel to this that goes high up the side of a hill and should give some spectacular views of The Edge and the harbour beyond. Before my next interview, and before I lose the light, I set off towards town and walk up the steep road to the viewpoint I had envisaged. Despite the bare branches of a few trees I get the shot I had in my mind’s eye and again I reflect on the beauty of the town, the houses and cottages perched around the port and the social problems barely beneath the surface. Everywhere looks better, feels better, on a sunny day.
On my way back I notice Laura and Angela’s daughter, Millie in the YES charity shop, checking out the latest donations. Sophia Malaika is wrapped on Laura’s back, wide awake now and inquisitive about this unfamiliar man with a camera. I take a few shots before I wander back up the road for my next appointment.