Trust

There's a story here. But it will have to wait till after my dinner.

A bit of urban abandonment beside the canal, iconic (locally anyway) background, awesome low sunlight. I knew I'd get something here.

While I was trying to get something that wasn't a massive cliche, two lads appeared from the wrong side of the very locked gate you see in the background. They were up to no good, and a little twitchy about some bloke with a camera hanging around.

The little one was keen to get away. This one was gobby, though, and a little too confident considering the scenario.

He wanted to know why I was taking photos. I told him everything looked good in this light. Did I want to take a photo of him, he asked, cockily. Sure, I said, in spite of all the question marks, but you have to do something.

He started asking about my camera. Was it any good? Does it take clear photos? And could he have a look at it first if I took one of him pulling a wheelie?

Two things collided in my mind. One was that I couldn't turn down a stranger giving me permission to take his photo in perfect light.

But the other was that it was a bit suss that a teenager, who'd just emerged from a yard he was not supposed to be in, down a side alley with no one around, would take an interest in my camera.

So I bottled it. I took the shot (five of them). But it was rushed. Didn't get my composition as I would instinctively prefer. Didn't even set my levels. Didn't check what I had and try again. Just got it done, and made sure the strap was round my neck so he couldn't whip my camera out of my hands.

I showed him what I got. He looked like a right numpty, he said.

So he and mini-me rode off. "Thanks, though," he shouted back at me as he turned the corner. "Have a nice one."

I think I got the shot I deserved.