The boy squinted up at the man standing beside him, the sunlight behind making it hard to see him properly. The man was dressed in black bathers and a singlet and had a camera dangling on a strap around his neck. He had a small carry bag in one hand. He looked to be about thirty years of age, about as old as the boy's mother.

"Thanks," he responded, turning back to his work in the sand. He wanted to get it finished before his sister, Kelly, came back from the cabin. She had gone to get a drink for them both from the shack his mother lived in, several hundred metres back over the sand dunes that skirted the length of the beach.

"You must have worked hard to do that by yourself," the man said, squatting down beside him.

"My sister helped a little bit," he answered, not looking at the man. He began digging a moat around the castle.

"Where is she?" the man asked. "I didn't see anyone else as I came up the beach."

"Gone home to get us a drink," the boy replied off-handedly, flicking the sand out towards the sea.

"I guess you would get a bit thirsty digging all of this. Its a terrific castle. You must have a lot of experience at building them."

The boy stopped and looked at the man. He sounded friendly and interested in what he was building and he felt a touch of pride that a man would think him good at something. Most people told him the opposite. He and Kelly didn't mix with others much. They were considered to be down-and-outers, their mum wasn't married and had to work long hours to earn enough to support them, and they lived in an old shack several miles out of town that used to be some rich person's holiday cabin. The only good thing in their lives was the fact they lived near this beautiful beach and spent most afternoons after school and weekends playing on what was normally a deserted stretch of coast. He liked to imagine it was their private beach. Most hikers went the other way when walking from the town beach and very few came up to their end. This man had, though.

"What's your name?" the man continued. "Mine's Tom. I'm a photographer."

"Scott," the boy said. "My sister's name is Kelly," he added, he didn't know why.

"Scott, hey? Nice to meet you, Scott," the man said, holding his hand out towards the boy.

Scott was caught by surprise. Flustered he took the proferred hand, feeling his small one gripped firmly and held by the man. It was the first time he had ever shaken hands like a grown-up and he didn't know what to do. The man shook his hand up and down and then just held it, rubbing his thumb gently over the back. Scott didn't pull away, but he felt a strange feeling as the man touched him and just looked at him.

"You're a good looking young guy," Tom said, squeezing his hand. "I'd like to take some photos of you. Do you mind?"

Scott blushed. "I guess so," he muttered, not sure how to react.

"Great!" the man said, letting go of his hand and moving back a bit. "Just work on your castle and I'll take some photos of it as well."

Scott began digging again, hearing the camera clicking and aware of the man moving around him. He suddenly realised he only had his old underpants on, they were almost threadbare, the elastic was loose and he knew he had a couple of holes in the back. He and Kelly never bothered with bathers and usually only wore their underpants onto the beach. There was usually noone ever around to see them so it didn't seem to matter. He wondered what the man was thinking, whether he was aware or not. The boy looked up......(cont)