Ali got out of the car.  It was cooler up here, in the hills.  Los Angeles would be oppressive by now.  She felt a breath of wind pass over her hair.  Yes, this would be a better spot for the shoot.  She could see it all now, the models changing in a trailer here in the car park, then her taking the shots against the background of the city grid laid out underneath, and the ocean sparkling in the background.  She followed the trail signs to the viewing platform .  There were a few elderly people there, but it was late enough in the afternoon for there to be no crowds.  Just right.  

There was a diamond-shaped yellow “Photo Spot” sign on one end of the platform.  She walked along and stood to the left of it.  It must have been put there by a man wanting to direct everyone to the ideal spot for a shot.  How irritating that she automatically confirmed like that.  It was a good prospect, she had to admit, even so.

On the right side of the sign, Len, who had been gazing at the view when she arrived, turned and looked at her. He thought she had the same skin as his dead wife, Stella, as a young woman: smooth, olive, bronzed, beautiful. Stella was the only thing missing from his life now, but that was enough to make it a swamp of loneliness.  The pang of her memory made him blink.

Ali was thinking about framing, looking through her camera and adjusting its settings.  She wondered what he was looking at.  Judging her, just as her father used to – she could hear him now “No Dear, that’s not how you do it.” This old guy was about to tell her how to photograph the hazy scene so that it was clear,  how to increase the depth of field – he was, she knew it!  Another damned mansplainer trying to tell her, HER, how to do her job.  

“It’s changed a lot here,” Len said.  She even had the same concern with details as Stella, he thought.  She wanted to get the picture perfect.  It looked like an expensive camera.  She was clearly doing well in life.  He thought about his own success, which most people, he imagined, would consider substantial.  He had sold his printing company, after twenty years of building it up and opening outlets right across California, to a large high street chain and he’d  made a few million dollars.  He had stopped work at forty, and had planned to spend his life with Stella doing what they loved most, travelling.  When she fell ill ten years later, he could not imagine life without her.  They had been childhood sweethearts at school.  She was the only woman he had ever loved.  And where was he now?  Washed up on the shores of his upbringing, unable and unwilling to move from LA., struggling to find meaning in his existence. And here, now was this beautiful young woman beside him, capable, self-sufficient, doing what she was good at and loving it.  He envied her.

“I wouldn’t know about change, “ she said, without turning to look at him. “I haven’t been here before.  Too many tourists for me.”

“Ah, yes.  And there is the smog, more now than there used to be in the days when I came here first with my wife, Stella.  They’re trying to reduce emissions in LA, but I don’t think it will do much good to be honest.”  

He had a point.  The smog was annoying and difficult to penetrate, no matter what the settings on the camera.  Maybe she should look for another place.  Time was running out though, she had to be on a plane to New York in three hours.  She thought about her husband who was probably right now having lunch somewhere trendy with a client.  They had met on a shoot when she was an assistant to a famous photographer and he was just starting out in the ad agency where he was now a director.  How time flew.  Their children, a boy and a girl, had both now left home and were both very ambitious and successful in corporate finance and management consulting.  She wondered when she would see them again.  It had been months.  But she had slowly got used to their absence.  She supposed it was a good thing, but she often felt that they really didn’t need her anymore, and would probably not even notice if she wasn’t there.  But that was stupid: of course they needed her.  Just in a different way, now.  And she was slowly getting her head around being a free agent again.  Funny how she had spent many years as they were growing up wondering if she should have let her career come first.  Now she had the time and space to focus on her work, she was always thinking about when she was the centre of their worlds at home.

This was the first full time project she had attempted since the children had left.  She wanted it to be amazing.  But she could tell that she was still a little rusty on the basics of managing the project and getting things organised.  Budgets were tight, and she had to show the client a plan in two days time back in New York.

There was a risk she would never hear the end of it, but nevertheless she turned towards Len and asked, “I don’t suppose you know of somewhere else with a less smoggy view?”

He saw she had the same way that Stella had of raising one eyebrow when she asked a question.  He smiled. “Sure,” he said. “See that hairpin bend just down to the left over there?  Underneath that clump of trees?  You can scramble down from the road, and round on the other side there is a big flat rock, hidden from view.  There are no trail signs to it, but it is the best place around here, and there will be nobody else there.  For some reason the sunlight doesn’t bounce off the smog from that angle, and you will get a lovely view of the city.”

She resented needing to ask this man for advice.  “Listen, thanks.  That’s very kind of you.  I will give it a try, “ she said, and turned to walk back to her car.

What a lovely girl, Len thought.  Shame he wasn’t thirty years younger.  Thirty years ago, what was he like then?  Struggling to keep his head above water.  The printing business was cut-throat and he was working all hours to fulfil customer orders.  He had some good people working for him, but none of them really thought about it as a career.  He hadn’t either, when he first got started.  He dropped out of school at 18 with barely any qualifications, disappointing his parents, who were school teachers.  He took jobs flipping burgers, serving drinks in a bar on the beach, even driving a delivery van for a local grocer.  None of them lasted long.  Then finally a friend from school said that they were looking for new people at the print shop he worked at.  Len went to see the owner, and was hired the next day.  He found he loved the work, the detail, the precision.  Thirty years ago he had just opened the first shop of his own, and was adjusting to the new responsibility he had for his staff and his clients.  It was hard, but the business was beginning to take off, and he felt he had some decent prospects and could at last propose to Stella.  Of course, Stella didn’t care about his prospects, she just wanted to be with him for the rest of her life.

“Hey, no sweat.  There’s nothing like a bit of local knowledge,” Len said.  Ali turned and set off to her car.

The SUV she was driving snaked down the road towards the hairpin, rounded the corner and disappeared from view.  Len turned back to look some more at the city.

Ali stopped the car by the crash barrier, retrieved her camera bag from the back seat, and looked over the edge.  There was a steep, rocky drop of about twenty feet down to a small track which led around a corner to the right.  She stepped over the barrier and scrambled down the drop feet first, her hands behind her back in the sliding stones.  She followed the track and came upon the flat slab which Len had mentioned, sticking out over the valley.  She sat cross-legged at the edge and looked at the view.  He was right.  It was magnificent, and there was plenty of room on the slab for the equipment and the models.  Getting down here would be a challenge but she was sure they could work something out.  The sun was falling in the sky, and the city was clearly visible, as Len had said it would be.  It was awesome.  She took some shots and wrote some notes down in her exercise book.  She laid the kit down beside her and closed her eyes.  She felt peace.  Her mind turned to the journey home, but she really did not want to leave yet.  Five more minutes wouldn’t make any difference, she thought.  She remembered once feeling the same way on the beach at Cape Cod, as a child.  Her parents could not get her to come in for dinner.  She was mesmerised by the sky.  As always, it was her father who came down and pulled her to her feet and spoiled the moment.  “Really, Dear.  It’s time.”  He’d never had time for the important things in life.  

Behind and to her left she heard a fall of rocks.  She looked back along the track but could see nothing.  Then she heard it again.  She got to her feet, wondering if there was some kind of avalanche starting.  As she turned, Len appeared, brushing dust off his anorak.  What was it with people, she thought?  Why could they not just leave her alone occasionally?  

He raised his hand in greeting, but was too out of breath to speak.  Thank goodness, she was alright.  On the way down the road he came across her car on the bend, and worried that she might have injured herself.  It was starting to get dark.  You could never be too careful.  In any case, he wanted to see how the city looked from here, thirty years after he had last seen it with Stella.  “Hi, are you OK?” he croaked, hands on his knees, fighting to regain his breath.

Yes, there he was.  She’d had a feeling that he was going to be difficult to shake off, and she was right.  She rolled her eyes and said, “I’m fine.  Are YOU OK?”  He looked like he had rolled all the way down the drop.  There was dust all over him, even in his hair, which was waving now in the breeze.  These guys think they are Superman, she thought.  Indestructible.  

“I saw your car at the top and I was worried that it was getting dark and all,” he said.  “Thought I would just check you hadn’t fallen or something.”  He had had to be very careful getting Stella down here that last time.  It had taken them ages to get to the slab, and then even more time to get back up to the road.

“Oh, well… as you can see, there is nothing wrong with me.  I am done here, so I was about to head back up,” Ali said.  He was the one who was going to need help, she thought.  She couldn’t just leave him.  She led the way to the foot of the drop.  She persuaded him to go up first, so that she could break his fall if necessary.  They inched up the slope, stones and dust falling into her eyes and hair.  They got to the top and stepped over the barrier.  She held his hand as he put his front foot onto the road.

“Are you going to be alright driving?” she said.  Then immediately wondered what she would do if he said no.  Drive him home?  Please, please say you can drive, she thought.

“Oh yes, I’m a great driver,” he said.  Stella had always told him that.

“You might want to think twice before going down there again,” she said.  “Goodbye.” 

The SUV’s tail lights receded into the night. “Goodbye,” he said.  “Goodbye.”