Chapter 1

Andrew McLeod woke up on the morning of his 12^th birthday feeling different. For a start it was still quite early, only just 6.30 on this Saturday morning. His parents had entertained friends the previous evening so he knew they would not be awake for at least two hours, maybe longer. Padding through to the kitchen he stood at the counter eating his Weetabix thinking about the weekend. Today would be quiet but the family were going to visit his grandmother in the afternoon the next day. She was his only remaining grandparent, his father’s mother, and there would probably be other family members there. He shrugged, of course he would go and see his grandmother but even if he didn’t want to go, it was not like his mother would listen to him. He thought about his family for a moment.

His mother was someone who was obsessed about appearances. She had a severe dose of ‘what will the neighbours think’ syndrome. She also always had to have the last word in any conversation, she seemed incapable of letting anything go, regardless of the triviality. Andrew had long since given up on her, he didn’t think she realised how disengaged he was from her, from the whole family. His father was? What was his father? Remote? Disinterested? He was both of those and more. What was most obvious was that he had a marked preference for Andrew’s little sister. And he made no attempt to hide it, most of all from his son. Andrew sighed. Rowan, his little sister by two and a half years, had been okay. At least until seven or eight. But the last two years she had become progressively more tiresome, as in her father’s eyes she could do no wrong. Fundamentally she had been a nice kid who had been, and was being, badly parented.

As Andrew, always Andrew never Andy, his mother was adamant about that, stood there he realised something had to change. Most of this year his parents had been fighting which on top of everything else about life at home had made Andrew miserable. The root of their fighting was money. Both of his parents were the first in each of their families to go to university. They had met while working for the civil service, married and then had their two children. But as a continuation of their educational advancement they now had both Andrew and Rowan in private school. And it was these school fees that were the root of a lot of the issues in the house. So that June morning Andrew McLeod figured that something had to change.

It was 1977, June 11^th, and Andrew had two weeks of school left. As he stood that morning thinking about his life he started to plan. Returning to his bedroom he grabbed some scrap paper from his schoolbag and mapped out the weeks until the start of senior school. Eleven weeks in total, the last two weeks of primary school and then nine weeks of holiday. Andrew knew that his parents fought about money, and that trying to send two children to private school was tough, close to being unaffordable. Knowing that his father would defend Rowan, Andrew did not want to be the one sacrificed if two sets of fees became unaffordable. So he needed to start earning some money, not just for himself but also to ensure that he didn’t have to change schools.

That was all well and good but he was 12. What was he going to do? And how was he going to convince someone that they should give him a job? And pay him money to do it? Hmmm. Andrew was tall for his age but slender, if not downright skinny. As his father was always telling him, a good breeze would blow him away. Andrew was also a geek, innately clever rather than studious, and somewhat lazy, with no trace of any discernable athletic ability. Double hmmm. He sat back and looked around his room for inspiration. His camera bag was in the corner of his room as usual. His camera was his pride and joy. He had bugged his parents for a ‘proper’ camera all the previous year, even foregoing birthday presents the same time the previous year. Finally at Christmas he had received his Olympus OM-1 camera. His grandmother had organised the rest of the extended family to give him money and so his one Christmas present was from the whole family. And it had been worth the year of waiting. Looking at the camera bag got him thinking about trying to do something in a camera shop. None of the big chains would think about hiring a 12 year old. He had no idea what the age limits for working were, something he would have to check. His father was always going on about how he had started working at 13, and so in Andrew’s mind this was the age. But he would have to go to the library and look it up. Assuming his dad was right then he would have to see if an independent store was willing to bend the rules. And he had no idea how much he would be paid.

Andrew sat there doodling thinking about working in a camera shop. He heard his parents getting up but hadn’t realised that he had been engrossed for more than an hour. Wandering through he accepted the birthday wishes of his parents.

“Happy Birthday Andrew. 12 already.”

“Thanks Mum.”

He gave her a big hug.

“Happy Birthday son.”

His father didn’t even try and fake excitement.

“Thanks Dad.”

Hugs were not exchanged and Andrew wondered at the flash of resentment when he had responded to his father. Wow.

“I am going to cycle down to the library, I want to look up a couple of books about some photographic techniques.”

This was not an unusual request.

“Sure. Be back by noon, okay?”

“Yes Mum.”

It was only when he was cycling down the hill to the library that he realised that he received no presents and, more surprisingly, he hadn’t noticed or been bothered. 10 minutes later he padlocked his bike to the railings outside the library and headed inside. Andrew was not known by name but he was known by sight and both librarians nodded and said ‘good morning’ when he entered. After he had politely returned their greetings Andrew approached the desk, this was not an average visit.

“I wonder if you can help me please. I am looking for a book that will let me know the age when I can start working. I presume the government issues something. Does the library have any publications that explain that?”

The stocky 50-something librarian smiled at him.

“We do have a section from HMSO, Her Majesty’s Stationary Office, they are the publishing part of the government. There are lots of books with advice and rules. Let me show you where they are all located.”

Andrew had not been down that particular aisle in the library and was amazed at the sheer number of government publications. He was sure the answer was here it was just finding it. In the end it was very comparatively easy. There was a small section from the Department of Employment and in the third book he checked he found the section on the employment of children. Annoyingly, his father was right, the age when children could start to work part-time was 13. And there was a limit of 25 hours a week for 13 and 14 year olds during the school holidays. At least he now knew for certain.

The library also had the large thick Yellow Pages for Edinburgh and so after getting a sheet of paper and a pen from the librarians, he was able to note the names and addresses of all the camera shops in the city. At first, he was surprised there were so many, 37 in all. But 15 were not real camera shops but just photo processing locations. That left 22 addresses, thinned down further to 14 after removing the large chain stores.

As he cycled back up the hill to his home Andrew’s mind was not on the road. He wondered how his parents would react if he told them he had got a job. Would the fact that he was only 12 register with them? He shook his head, he was already thinking ahead when he had no idea whether anyone would hire him.