by Ian Berry
While Saskia entertained the massed hordes by answering questions, I managed a word with Rio herself. “Have you arranged with your mum to come to tea with us?”
“Yep. All sorted. Instructions are just not to be home too late.”
“No problem there. We don’t do late. Come on. Better join in. Your friends are wearing poor Saskia out.”
Eventually we managed to drag ourselves - and Rio - away. With Rio in the passenger seat of the mini, Saskia and I got in with her. Saskia blew out a sigh.
“Woo. That was worse than a council meeting. I’d forgotten what a gang of schoolgirls can be like - and I was one until five minutes ago.”
“You go to council meetings?” asked Rio.
“Just the one. Saskia back there put the mayor in his place, made him feel like he was about six years old. It was brilliant.”
“Right, Saskia. Hospital. You do remember the way?” I said.
She looked at me through the mirror and stuck out her tongue.
By prior agreement we didn’t tell Rio the details of what we wanted her to do over the weekend. That we’d do over tea - or possibly afterwards, in case any jumping up and down with excitement had Rio wearing her food instead of eating it.
The hospital pronounced Rio suitably recovered enough to have the plaster removed and this was quickly done. The first thing Rio did was to scratch her leg more or less all over. “Oh, wonderful. You can’t believe how much it’s itched.”
“Did you not try the trick with the ruler?” I asked with a laugh. “You can usually get it down the gap between the plaster and your leg.”
“Oh yes. but it only goes down thirty centimetres. The itches are always lower than that. Hey, I can wear jeans and pants again, brilliant.”
“Spare a thought for boys with busted legs, they have to wear trousers. At least you can wear a skirt which is fairly easy to get on and off.” I knew all about the boy’s side of that!
“Hm. Never thought of it like that before, suppose you’re right really.”
Having had to call at the hospital meant we were later home than usual. Saskia’s dad was already cooking tea. “Steak and chips for four, ok?”
“Brilliant, Dad. We’ll just tell Rio what we want her for on Sunday. You can sort out Saturday after tea, yes?”
With a glass of coke each to be going on with, we dragged Rio into the lounge.
“Ok,” said Saskia. “Busy weekend, how much homework have you got?”
Rio laughed. “You sound just like my mum. Shouldn’t take more than a couple of hours.”
“Saturday is down to my dad but Sunday is for us at the plant. Jeff - you remember Jeff? - wants pictures of the outside of the building. You impressed him so much with your aerial pictures he wants you to do it again for us. You can’t have Kyra - or Katya - whichever one it was who carried you - so you’ll have to make do with a helicopter.”
Rio had been looking more and more amazed, now her eyes were big and round. “A helicopter?”
“Yes dear. Box with a windmill on top, yes?”
“Oh wow. Now I see why Mrs. Rogers said I might enjoy the weekend.”
“Have you got a lanyard attachment for your camera?” I asked, then had to explain what and why. “Don’t want you to drop it accidentally, you take shots with the window open. The lanyard goes on the tripod socket and we tie it to the chopper. You will already be tied in anyway.”
“No. Nothing like that. The only thing I’ve got is the wrist strap, that screws into the little thingy on the bottom.”
“That’ll do. We just need to tie something to that and then to the helicopter. Pretty much anything’ll do. I’ll sort that out. At least you won’t need to sit with the door missing.”
Both Saskia and Rio looked at me strangely. “No door, Twin? Might fall out.”
I sighed. More explanations. “We’re only shooting stills. To shoot film or telly, you take one door off. The cameraman - or woman of course - sits on the floor with legs hanging out. They wear a special harness so they can’t fall out. The camera is mounted on a special gubbins attached to the roof of the helicopter. Takes a bit of getting used to apparently. To do a tight turn, the chopper banks over like a normal aeroplane - the cameraperson can end up looking almost straight down. Must be really scary the first time.”
“Do you two know everything?” asked Rio.
“‘Course not. I know stuff and Saskia knows other stuff. We just make a good team. For instance, I don’t know how to couple and uncouple articulated trucks but Saskia does. When we had to do that the other day it took both of us but we managed. Teamwork - see?”
“Neither of us knows how to take a good picture,” said Saskia. “We need a third member of the team for that - that’s you.”
Rio actually wriggled and beamed with pleasure at being included like that. Mrs. Rogers was right, she was going to enjoy the weekend.
While we shovelled in steak and chips, Rob told Rio about Saturday.
“Not nearly as glamorous as helicopter stuff I’m afraid. Just boring old pictures of cars. Then you three can come back here and shift them onto the big computer. You can supervise the Saskias while they crop and mess about with them, then send them to our website people.”
“Can’t we do that at the garage, Dad?”
“Could if you wanted to but I just thought it might be more comfortable here, nice and near the fridge and the hot chocolate.”
“Good point, Dad. Very good point. It shall be so.”
“So, Rio. Up for all this?” I asked. “Probably every Saturday at the garage but also probably not a helicopter ride every Sunday.”
“Oh yes!”
“Good. We’ll be your transport, at least at first.”
“Huh,” said Saskia. “I’m going to get a chauffeurs uniform and a cap.”
Rio looked apprehensive so Saskia laughed. “I don’t mean it. Old Saskia over there can’t wait until I’ve got tired of driving so she can have a go.”
I nodded to confirm that this was so. Of course it wasn’t, I wasn’t bothered that Saskia wanted to drive all the time. I’d done my share when I was Richie.
“What time tomorrow, Rob?” I asked.
“About ten? Give the lads time to have a last polish.”
“Rio?”
“Ok by me.”
“Then let’s get you home to charge your camera batteries or whatever you do and shove in a new memory card - oh, and do your homework.”
“I have spare camera batteries and memory cards. Mum and Dad got me a really good camera with all the bits.” She looked a bit sad. “I don’t really know how they managed to afford it.” She brightened a bit and sat straighter in her chair. “Now it’s payback time!”
“Good for you,” said Rob. “Are you up for two sets of car pictures? Get the girls to tell you about Eddie Simpson and then tell them to contact him. He should have work for you as well.”
“Come on, Rio,” said Saskia. “Tell you all about Eddie Stobart in the car.”
Rio looked bemused again. We told her about Eddie - Simpson or Stobart, depending on his mood - on the way home. I’d put him in touch with one of Richie’s old colleagues to sort out a website, by now he was probably up and running. I needed to contact him before he got somebody else to take pictures for him. A job for Monday.
Five
Saturday. Saskia drove us to Rio’s for nine thirty as arranged. Rio was waiting with a big camera bag-thing of stuff. I was sure I could see her actually hopping up and down from one foot to the other in anticipation.
At the garage, Rob’s ‘lads’ had the cars all lined up and ready. Rio had them move them around so she could take what she called ‘proper’ pictures. There was a certain amount of good natured grumbling.
“The old bloke neve
r had us do this.”
Rio patiently explained that to get the best picture required her to stand just there, if you please. If there was a car in the way then could you move it please - better still, could you move the car she was working on to an open space. She showed them the pictures and the grumbling went away. Even they could see what she meant.
“Miles better than the old bloke. Worth all the shunting. We’ll know next time, be ready for you.”
Rob came out to see what all the fuss was about. Suddenly all his workers were Rio’s biggest fans. Rob was chased back inside with stern instructions to ‘let the girl get on with it, it’s going really well’.
Within an hour all the cars had been processed, Rio had several pictures of each. “I’ve tagged them all with data. Will your program on your computer read the data so you can tell date and time and other stuff?”
“Yes, no problem. Remind me to make sure the data stays with any editing we do.”
“What’s this data stuff, Twin?”
Rio beat me to it. “Because the picture is stored as data rather than on film, you can add other data to it, like date and time it was taken, name of photographer - that’s me - and all sorts of other stuff. I’ve managed to add the registration number as well. All that can stay with the picture.”
“Don’t think the old guy ever did that,” said Saskia. “Pictures were always getting mixed up - wrong picture on adverts and so on. Sounds brilliant. Come on, let’s go see Dad.”
Rob held up his hands. “If you say it’s fine then it’s fine. Go get ‘em sorted and sent to Nigel to go with the copy. Make sure they don’t get mixed up.”
“Not possible, Dad. Got data along with them with date, time and even reg number. Got a proper photographer now.”
“And how do you know all about this stuff then?” Rob asked Saskia.
Saskia wasn’t embarrassed in the least when she said, “Because Rio’s just told us of course, Dad.”
“Come on you two,” I said. “I feel hot chocolate coming on. To the Batcave - well the office at home anyway.”
Three giggling girls climbed into the mini, Saskia behind the wheel as usual. Back at home, Rio and I went to fire up the computer while Saskia did the same thing to the kettle in the kitchen.
I thought all the pictures were perfect - fat lot I knew. Rio more or less pushed me out of the way and took over. “Same program I use, easy-peasy.”
There was much selecting, cropping and what in other days would have been called ‘sweetening’. Eventually Rio declared herself pleased. I couldn’t see a lot of difference, but then I’m a one-time computer engineer and super girl, not a photographer. Leave it to the experts.
“Ok. Where do we send ‘em?”
“Need Saskia for that, Rio. Where’s she gone?”
“I’m here, I’m here. Just organising some food. Have you seen the time?”
With pictures sent off to an address Saskia gave us, we hurried downstairs to see what Saskia had been up to. What she’d been up to had been frizbees, with sausages no less. Rio thought they were brilliant.
“Hey, these are great. Can you show me?”
“Don’t speak with your mouth full, dear. S’easy. I’ll show you after, ok?”
Rio nodded and made a ‘mm-mm’ sound, which Saskia and I both translated to be ‘yes please’.
Quite a bit of the afternoon was taken up by sitting and gossiping. We’d not really talked to Rio on her own like this for any length of time. It quickly became apparent that if Rio had been a year or two older and a pupil at Saskia’s school, she’d have been numbered among our closest friends, alongside Ellie and the rest.
Rio had to be home by mid afternoon. “Come on you,” said Saskia, “need to get you home. You and Dad have agreed how he’s going to pay you, haven’t you? Don’t involve me, that’s between you and him.”
“Yes, all sorted. Want the details?”
“No no. If the conversation has pound signs in it my brain turns off. Just so long as you’re happy. I’ll soon know if Dad isn’t.”
“That’s a point,” I said. “What have you agreed with the Corporation?”
“Oh, good job you reminded me. They want invoices - whatever they are. I meant to speak to you about it.”
“Poo. Easy. I’ll sort you out. Basically just bits of paper with the details written on. No VAT so that problem won’t appear.”
“VAT, Twin?”
“Won’t be a problem, at least not for Rio, she’s not registered - need to be making potts of money before you need to. The Corporation is registered, that makes it interesting for Accounts, their problem though. I’ll take you through it Rio.”
“Thanks Saskia. What time tomorrow?”
“Ten at the plant. We’ll come for you at nine thirty. Got to collect Melanie as well. Saskia’s Taxi rides again. You ok with that? Oh, and wear jeans not a skirt, getting into choppers is a bit undignified.”
“I’ve had to wear a skirt all the time for ages. I’m never going to wear one again - until school on Monday anyway.”
We left Rio to go into her house still laughing. She’d probably have to explain why. Oh well, we all have to do that from time to time.
That evening, after tea, I asked Rob if he was happy with the day’s work.
“I can’t say, I’ve not seen the finished products. I have, however, heard from Nigel who is sufficiently impressed that he now thinks the sun shines out of quote - ‘your new photographer’ - unquote.”
“You have told him Rio is a sixteen year old girl, Dad?”
“Er, don’t actually think I have, no. Besides, isn’t that discrimination? Don’t you girls always bang on about being accepted for what you can do instead of what you are?”
“Well yes. But you see, being a girl means you can do either way depending on how you feel at the time. You can shout about equality and get away with it, or you can be all girly if you want to and get away with that too. Having said that, I’m glad Rio’s making it by reputation rather the fact she a girl. Don’t you dare tell Nigel - not yet anyway.”
I decided to intervene before Saskia dug the hole any deeper. “Would you like to see the pictures? They’re still on the computer upstairs. We put them in the Garage shared folder so you can get at them easily from your office.”
To make amends for her statements, Saskia grabbed her dad’s hand and dragged him upstairs to the office and the computer. She called up the files from earlier today.
“See, Dad. much better than the last lot - even I can see that.”
“Worth every penny,” Rob agreed. “What about if you send one to Eddie Simpson, sort of advertising advertising if you see what I mean.”
“Brilliant idea, Dad. I shall put my best girl on it right away.”
I sighed but dutifully sat down at the computer. I wrote as Saskia directed while her dad looked on with a big grin on his face. With a picture attached, I let Saskia click ‘send’. She did this with almost as big a grin as her dad.
In the old days, receiving electronic mail would ring an actual bell. These days an incoming email can play the Hallelujah Chorus if you like. I couldn’t stand that, our computer did a much more quiet and refined chime. It chimed.
“Who’s sending emails at this time on a Saturday,” grumbled Saskia. “Blimey, it’s Eddie. That was quick.”
“What’s it say?” I asked.
“Hang on, hang on, keep underwear on. Let me open it. Hm. Very interested - look, in slanty letters and bold - in services of your new photographer. Website nearly ready, any chance of tomorrow?”
“Have to speak to Rio. She needs to be ready for school on Monday, homework and stuff,” said Saskia. “I’ll ring her.”
While Saskia engaged herself in that activity I spoke quietly to Rob.
“I don’t know what arrangements you’ve made to pay Rio for her work - not my business. I’ll gladly get involved in the Corporation side of the Rio enterprise but not yours, sir. Can you talk to Eddie and make sure he uses the same arrangement as you?”
“I’ll be glad to. Covered all bases haven’t you?”
“I’ve tried to, sir. I know what it’s like for Rio. Perhaps not in detail but certainly in principle. I never really had anybody to look out for me when I was younger. I don’t think her parents know quite what’s going on but I do.”
Further conversation was interrupted by Saskia. “All sorted. We go from the plant to Eddie’s. Lunch at the plant, they’ll do sandwiches and hot chocolate. Sorry Dad. You’ll be all alone again tomorrow.”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll probably go to the garage anyway and wait for the deluge of enquires when the website updates first thing in the morning.”
A thought struck me. “Do you have a hitbox on the site? Can you see how many people look at it?”
“Mm, think so. Have to ask Nigel. Why?”
“Because if he keeps records, we can see how much extra interest the new pictures are generating. Then we can give Eddie an idea what to expect. I have a sort of interest in that - I persuaded him to change how he advertises.”
“Saskia,” said Rob . “Your sense of obligation and responsibility never cease to amaze me. And that other Saskia over there is frankly no better. I love you both.”
We hit him from both sides. We stood for what seemed like ages just hugging him with one of his arms round each of us. As usual when this happened I had the most tremendous feeling of being loved and wanted. Richie had never had any of that, Saskia was making up for it. There were strong feelings of safety and security too. Not for the first time, I wondered if this is what all girls feel when they cuddle up to their dads. I once asked Saskia and she’d said that’s what she felt but she couldn’t speak for ordinary girls, which only served to remind me that we weren’t ordinary girls - either of us.