I applied for the job after being introduced to your work by a friend. I knew I had a good eye, and I was a great assistant. I knew the number one rul... of any studio—do not touch the cameras unless they are handed to you. I worked quietly and quickly, moving props and lighting, almost reading your mind by now to get things exactly the way you wanted them. I never interfered in the shoot, but just acted like an extra pair of hands for you. Which is exactly how I wanted it. I don’t know the. Her mouth made a little ‘o’ of surprise. “He’s here?!” She started to stumble away as if searching for him, but I caught her arm and repeated my question. “He lives a couple hours away from here, and I didn’t think he’d accept the invitation. We must catch up...” she babbled. My heart was pounding. I walked quickly out of the room, snaking through people and more rooms, looking for his face again. It took me a couple minutes before I recognized the back of his head. He was standing next to a. But she had barely said "Hi there, Freddy! How're you?" when she realised that almost anything she'd prepared to say would be wholly inappropriate.Freddy was there. And his bedroom was exactly as Fatima remembered it. Tatty posters advertising club nights that had ceased to exist years ago. A stack of clothes piled high on an armchair. A small TV and a much larger stereo. And a single bed taking centre-stage. And on that bed was Freddy. Unmistakably him. His lean thin face. The ragged hair. Not. Rene laughed when she noticed him. "Just like old times eh, Don" Old time referred to Donovan's "peeping" days. His and Rene's rooms shared a bathroom, with entrances from either room. He would sneak in if she forgot to lock the door from his room."Sure, sure," He said. "Do you mind giving me a minute? Apparently I'm expected downstairs." Yeah I'm done anyway, Birthday boy!" she said as she pinched his cheek hugged him an went to her room.Donovan found himself surprised for the second time.