It wasn't.I remember that afternoon. My stomach knotted as though I was going to throw up. I felt a lead weight on my heart. Mostly, I felt despair. F...cked up again. The evidence was quite clear. "Clear," in fact, described the result perfectly. Virtually no detail at all in the negatives. Nothing. Zilch. Nothing I could salvage, even with the hardest highest-contrast paper I could find. It was hopeless. I felt like shit. Like failure. Dad wouldn't have approved, I'm sure of that.Just a fuckup.. I couldn’t fail to recognise what was going on. If he was in the kitchen with me, which was usually the place where we were together, he would sit looking at me like a hungry puppy pleading to be fed. At first I tried to ignore it, telling myself that it was ridiculous that a young man like him should be getting worked up over someone my age. I knew about that Andrews boy they called Phally and Martha Fraser, most of us in the street knew about them, so I understood that young guys could fancy. More

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