‘I don’t think that I’d like people to know about me,’ Laura says and Solomon is surprised by his relief.
He would never consider their documentaries exploitive, but he’s proud of Laura for sticking to what feels right to her, not being swayed by attention and fame as so many people are. Rarely does Bo have to convince anybody to say anything on camera, she dangles a camera in front of them and they jump to attention, ready for their five minutes of fame. He likes that Laura is different. She’s normal. She’s a normal person who appreciates her anonymity, who values privacy. That, and something else.
‘You don’t have to share anything with us that you don’t want,’ Bo says. ‘Joe and Tom allowed us to follow them and see how they lived and communicated with each other but I don’t think they felt we crossed any boundaries. We had a very well understood agreement, that as soon as they felt uncomfortable, we’d stop filming.’
Like this morning, in Joe’s kitchen. It made Bo feel unwell, as though she’d had a falling out with a friend.
Laura looks relieved. ‘I like to be by myself. I don’t want –’ she looks at the iPad, and newspaper articles and magazine reviews on the table, ‘I don’t want all of that.’
She pulls the sleeves of her cardigan over her wrists and scrunches them between her fingers, and hugs herself, as if she’s cold.
‘Understood,’ Solomon says and looks at Bo, an air of finality to it. ‘We respect your decision. But before we go, we brought you some things.’
Solomon carries the shopping bags over to her and places them on the floor beside her. He’d probably gone overboard but he didn’t want her to be left with nothing, especially if Bridget sides with Joe and doesn’t continue to provide for Laura. He’d run across to the local tourist shop, bought as many blankets, T-shirts, jumpers as he could. He couldn’t imagine how cold it got in here, wind whistling through the holes in the walls, the old windows, while bats are flying metres from her door.
Bo hadn’t commented on his purchases. She’d stayed in the car checking emails, while he’d filled the boot with shopping bags. It’s only now that Bo looks at the amount he places down, takes them in, and looks at him in surprise. He’s embarrassed but she’s impressed by his effort. In Bo’s opinion, it could go a long way to convincing Laura to work with them.
‘I thought it could get very cold up here,’ Solomon explains, awkwardly, faffing his hands over the tops of the bags and muttering about their contents.
Bo smiles, trying to hold in her laugh at her boyfriend’s discomfort.
‘Thank you so much for all of these things,’ Laura says, peering in the bags, then addressing Solomon. ‘It’s far too much. I don’t think I could eat all of this on my own.’
‘Well, there’s three people here who’d love to help you,’ Bo jokes casually, still pushing, always pushing.
‘I’ll have to give them all back to you,’ she says to Solomon and then to Bo. ‘I can’t do your documentary.’
‘They’re for you,’ Solomon says firmly, ‘whether you do it or not.’
‘Yes, yes, keep them,’ Bo says, distracted.
While Solomon is getting ready to leave, doing the thing where he doesn’t want to push, doesn’t want to be seen as being rude, in the way, Bo prepares. That part of it never bothers Bo, it’s a momentary awkwardness in an overall larger picture. Bo feels it in her gut that she can’t let Laura go. She’s a fascinating, beautiful, interesting, ferociously intriguing girl, none of which she has seen the likes of before. Not only has she a personal life that is ripe for storytelling but a unique characteristic which is visually splendid. The girl is perfect. While Solomon says his goodbye to Laura, Bo lags behind, taking her time tidying her paperwork up. Placing the newspaper photocopies in a neat pile, running through her head what she can say next.
‘You go ahead, Sol, I’ll be out in a minute,’ Bo says, placing her folder in her bag, slowly.
Solomon leaves, and closes the door behind him.
Dark disapproving boyfriend gone.
Bo looks up at Laura and the girl looks so forlorn, as though she’s about to start crying.
‘What’s wrong?’ Bo asks, surprised.