The Summer Without You by Karen Swan

obsessive amount of photos taken of the
precious child), a gap yah in South America, a country wedding in Somerset, a ‘leavers’ book for a group of public-school girls . . . Ro decided to leave them in the box for safe
keeping until she could buy a large table to arrange them on and position in the centre of the studio for easy browsing.
    The third box held some of her hardware: three small flat screens that could be wall mounted and rigged with headphones, playing the short films she’d made of the subjects on loop. She
almost wept at the sight of her Apple Mac sitting at the bottom. It had been shockingly hard coping without it for three long weeks as it was air-freighted over, and she dusted it off lovingly,
arranging it on the corner of the long counter, where it booted up without a hitch, thanks to the Square’s upgraded Wi-Fi and broadband connections.
    Hump wandered back in, a cardboard tray of coffees and giant cookies in his hand. ‘I thought sugar too. You look like you need it.’
    ‘Charming,’ Ro quipped, accepting both her caffeine and sugar hits gratefully.
    ‘Whoa!’ Hump exclaimed, catching sight of the prints lined against the skirting board. ‘You did these?’
    ‘Indeed,’ Ro sighed, sliding her arms out on the counter and resting her head for a moment.
    ‘These are awesome. I had no idea you were so good! I mean, when I saw you at the wedding, you were so engrossed, so in the moment, you know? I thought it was cool, but . . .’ He
turned back to her. ‘No, you can’t sleep! Not yet or you’ll be awake at four!’ Hump ordered, jogging over and pulling her hair back from her face. Her eyes were closed, her
breathing already slowing down. ‘Drink up. Now.’
    Ro groaned and reluctantly did as she was told.
    ‘Do you ever take that thing off?’ he asked, clocking the camera still hanging round her neck. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without it. You even drove with it
on.’
    Her hands automatically wandered to it, stroking it like a pacifier. ‘I’ve got to be ready. You can’t imagine how awful it would be for me to miss the moment because I
didn’t have my camera with me.’
    ‘Huh.’
    ‘I know, it’s weird,’ she said, embarrassed. ‘It’s my thing. Matt doesn’t get it either.’
    ‘Matt’s this famous boyfriend of yours?’
    Ro nodded, digging her teeth into the side of the paper cup as she wondered where Matt was right at this instant. Trekking through a jungle? Sleeping in a mountain-top monastery? What time was
it even, over there? She was going to have to recalibrate now that she was another five hours behind him. They hadn’t spoken since Sunday, four days ago, and even that had been only their
fourth call since his departure. She’d need to give him her numbers out here – both for the house and the studio. She couldn’t afford to miss his calls. They were rare enough.
    Hump took her silence as a cue not to probe further. ‘So did you take any photos on the beach?’
    ‘What?’ She looked back at him, fuggy with tiredness.
    ‘Earlier, when you went to the beach. Did you take any photos?’
    ‘I—’ The humiliation rained down on her again. ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘No, I didn’t.’
    ‘You
must
be picky. It was a killing sunset tonight.’
    ‘I know,’ Ro mumbled. The light had been so perfect when she’d been photographing the children, before their maniac father had assaulted her and—
    With a small gasp, she grabbed her camera from round her neck, ejected the memory card and booted it into the computer.
    ‘What’s up?’ Hump asked, taking in her intense expression. He wandered round the counter to stand by her and see what she was doing. ‘“System
Recovery,”’ he read aloud, watching the screen as she typed quickly. Obscure code was tracking along the bottom of the monitor. ‘So what’s all this?’
    ‘I’m recovering some photos I deleted earlier,’ she murmured, her brow deeply furrowed.
    Hump looked