VI.

Stuart eagerly waited as two men positioned an old woman on the sofa. Wrinkled, thin and grim, she resembled dozens of other deceased women he had photographed. Every few seconds, he'd take a look at his watch. He burned with anticipation to finish the procedure, which was a rarity because Stuart considered every opportunity to do his real job a great luck. He had a good reason. Ever since their walk, Stuart went each day to look for Regina at the graveyard, but he hadn't stumbled upon her yet. Every day, he choose the same time for this endeavour, the hour at which he had first seen her. But a customer came to his studio fifteen minutes before he was due to leave. It was his first customer since before Christmas and declining the job wasn't an option.

"Like that", young woman yelped. She constantly wiped her face with a handkerchief, mourning her dead aunt. Her father stood beside her, lost in his thoughts, no doubt haunted by memories which he shared with the deceased person. "Please, put her hands in her lap. If only she could smile! She always smiled..."

Hands settled as she demanded, scenery was ready for photographing. Stuart removed the protective slide and turned the hourglass. Old woman's stare was directed straight forward. Usual excitement overwhelmed Stuart. What a marvellous photo this shall be! The woman looking so elegant, her blue eyes shall conquer the photo and their depth shall shock anyone who dares take a glance of her post–mortem representation. He couldn't help himself not to take a look on the other side of the camera. The picture was turned upside–down, but it was obvious the pose of the subject was perfect. She was the centre of the picture, and as such reigned space like a dire queen with death kneeling beside her.

"Beautiful", Stuart whispered. The time run out. He covered the lens and told his customers the daguerreotype shall be ready in two hours.

Although in a hurry, Stuart was careful not to make another mistake in the dark room. Waiting for the photograph to develop, he felt like a God designing a magnificent creature. Again, human being shall be put in the ground, but he will hold a piece of her in his hands, her final signature, her soul captured on a single plate.

He left the developing daguerreotype in the darkness, protected by a transparent glass plate on his working desk, and rushed outside before buttoning up his coat. Running down the street, he prayed to God for Regina to be at her father's grave. The possibility she had already left the city bothered him more every day.

The congregation was exiting the abbey. Graveyard was empty. Stuart sighted in disappointment. If she had been there, she left before he arrived. He was prepared to leave when he caught a sight of a familiar hooded figure coming out of the church. Regina moved along with the crowd, bowed head and silent. Cheered up, Stuart refrained from calling out to her and instead waited for people to disperse. As he expected, Regina turned towards graveyard. He followed her.

"Oh, Mister Malcolm!" Her lips turned upwards when he approached her. "Are you following me? Should I be concerned?"

"I admit I've been trying to meet with you, but there's no reason for alarm. Ever since our walk, I wanted to suggest something to you..." Now that he finally had an opportunity, his tongue got tied. "I assume you haven't solved your business problem? Or sold your house?"

"I haven't even put it on the market. I've been wasting my time doing nothing in particular. Nothing seems to make sense now that I'm all alone."

"Well, then, maybe... I thought you might consider a suggestion... Would you work for me?"

She gave him a strange look. "I'm not willing to work for anyone." His hopes were quickly dashed, but Regina wasn't over. "I would only consider partnership, but working as someone's subordinate is out of the question."

"Well, I expressed myself incorrectly! Of course we'd be equals..."

Amused by his eagerness, Regina laughed. "Well, that's a relief! Honestly, I'm desperate to find some kind of occupation. I don't mean to interfere in your plans, but your offer truly interests me. I haven't got to see your working space from real close. Would you show it to me right now?"

Stuart nodded, more than happy by her response. Then he suddenly got serious. "I must warn you my income is quite low. Payment..."

She waved his words away with her hand. "Never mind that. Let's go!"

On their way, they talked about what chores would Regina engage herself in. She was well educated about photographing, but had no experience with daguerreotypes. She knew a lot about cameras and could clean the studio. She proposed bringing her rich equipment to Stuart's place. They could widen the business, put an advertisement in the paper and take photos outside of the studio. Stuart didn't really like the idea, but he liked her smile when she suggested it, so he nodded in order to keep her happy.

"Wow", Regina sighed taking off her cloak as they entered the studio. "It's kind of empty. Just your camera, sofa and the stand. Haven't noticed it before. Not a single flower, just a couple of old photos..."

"I have a private collection of daguerreotypes downstairs", he tried to impress her. "I find it best suitable for the purpose without unnecessary decorations. People taking photos of their loved deceased ones do not want other objects in the photo."

"Whatever you say." She studied his camera. "You can't move this thing around at all,. It's too big and complex. I own a very nice and portable American camera from 1890s. All it takes to take a photo is squeeze an air-bulb. The light flashes, and a photo is taken! I even have one of those new Kodak thingies. My father bought it only last year. It's so simple it makes you wonder do we even need special people to photograph us." She smiled at him. "Of course, I'd never consider your craft endangered. There's no work like professional's."

He took her downstairs to show her his small apartment. He slept in small bedroom, had a small kitchen separated from the living room by an open passage and a bathroom with a rusty toilet and a bathtub. "No radio", she mocked him, "you really are terribly old-fashioned!"

"It's not much", he admitted unwillingly, "but enough for me."

She changed her tone. "Of course. Honestly, I prefer this to my big house. It's comfortable enough to feel like a home, whereas my place reminds me of a huge circus."

His pride arose when he showed her into the dark room. The daguerreotype he left to develop was completed, but he paid it no attention now that he had a living piece of art to observe. She turned around in wonder. Rotation of the hem of her dress dazzled him. He'd have liked to take a photo of her in that position, if only he could caught her in motion without photo turning out blurred.

"Did you hear that?", she asked. "It was the bell. Someone's at the door."

Stuart took the fresh daguerreotype. Regina waited in the living room, observing pieces of his collection he took out for her to look at, while he hurried up to give his customers what they came for. Young woman seemed more sedated and the deceased's husband speech had returned. Stuart asked them to wait a minute for the picture to assume its final state while being exposed to the light. He put it in a nice mahogany frame and handed it to the woman. She thanked him and sighed as she took a first look at the photo of her dear aunt, the only view of her she'll ever be able to enjoy after today's funeral.

"Wait", she seemed displeased, "something's wrong. You've made a mistake."

Stuart was confused. "What's wrong?" It was the only photo in the dark room, he couldn't have mistook it for another.

The man bent to take a look over his niece's shoulder. His eyes widened in perplexity. "Most unusual... I'm sure my wife's hands were in her lap."

"They were", Stuart confirmed, though he wasn't sure why they mentioned it.

"Well, something went wrong", woman was upset. She showed him the photo. Stuart put his glasses on and brought daguerreotype closer to himself. The woman in the photo held each of her arms beside her. It was exceptionally strange because it seemed as if she was pushing the couch with her hands. Her palms were steady on the surface and what looked like dents in the couch caused by her pressing were visible beneath them.

"I have no explanation", he said, "I swear her hands were in her lap when the photo was being taken. I even took a look through the lens and it was as you demanded."

"It's not his fault, darling", the man reasoned, "it's still our dear aunt. Look, she's smiling after all!"

This was another curious thing; woman really had an expression of joy on her face. This brought Stuart's confusion to a new level. The dead never smiled!

"Thank you for your service", the man said taking his niece by one arm and putting the photo in his pocket. "The boys probably positioned her hands in a flexible way and they separated in the wrong moment..."

Stuart nodded, but didn't believe in this explanation. The picture would've turned out blurry if such a mistake was made. Regina came upstairs, so the couple wished them both good day and left. The woman was far from happy, but luckily didn't persist in her disappointment in Regina's presence.

"Satisfied customers, eh?", she questioned. "How many of those do you get nowadays?"

"Not half enough."

"We'll change that in no time. I accept your offer if it still stands."

Stuart forgot the recent incident in one flash. She took off her glove to shake his hand. Her skin was not as soft as he expected, but it was still a hand of a young maiden. His mind was already busy producing images of the two of them working together, having fun, admiring daguerreotypes. He wasn't touched by such happiness for a long while.