Chapter 3

After that exciting early morning the rest of the day was incredibly quiet in comparison. Andrew studied at the house until after lunch but all four other family members seemed to want to talk or annoy him so he retreated to the library to carry on reading the engineering texts. Andrew found it therapeutic and he could ignore the world. The library was noisier and had more distractions but they were all background noise and not directed at him specifically. He and Suzanne had dinner together and then as usual went for a walk. There was little focus to their chat and they didn’t even torment themselves by making out, well not too much. It was just a continuation of the ongoing realisation that Suzanne was the most important person in his life. She had laughed when he told her about the hockey coaching course and had then ruined his day with a spectacular wind-up and tease.

“Andrew! Bloody hell. Mum is going to be out both Tuesday and Wednesday at some charity event she is helping organise. I am going to be home all day. On my own. In bed.”

Andrew looked gobsmacked and stricken as Suzanne kept her the frustrated, angry pout on her face for just the right amount of time. Then she bit her lip, lowered her head and winked at him. She took off with a shriek as Andrew chased along the seawall.

“That was just mean. I would threaten to put you over my lap but that is not much of a threat, is it?”

Suzanne was giggling and shaking her head.

“Bad Suzanne.”

When Andrew walked Suzanne up to her house when he dropped her off they made out for a very long time on her doorstep. There was a strong sense of masochism in the way they tormented each other.

The following morning Andrew was at Commonwealth Pool as it opened and was down at the Food Bank warehouse by 10.00. Dave was surprised to see him there so early but accepted the proffered excuse that he was helping a friend move some stuff that afternoon. Andrew chatted to Dave and Gord before he left. They were both coming to the party the following weekend and Andrew mentally shook his head at the thought of Gord and Lord Barnes having a chat over a beer. The mix of people at the party consumed his thoughts as he hauled cases of food round the warehouse for the last hour. He had decided to go with the scattergun approach and invite everyone he knew all at once. So there were going to be family, school friends, a couple of teachers, business people as well as Leslie and Julian’s parents who qualified as friends. He had invited Dave and Gord and after talking to Brian Campbell had even invited his MP given that he had helped them several times. Andrew had been very surprised to hear back from him that he and his wife would be attending. His only disappointment was that Harry and Josephine would not be attending. It might be the farm that his parents were going to. But other than that he was not too stressed about it, although he sincerely hoped that no one would make a scene with Fran and Nikki. They had called to let him know that they were definitely attending and would be there as a couple. His nerves had been calmed the previous week when he decided to tell his Grandma in advance, her generation being the least likely to accept this situation. He should not have doubted her as she took it totally in her stride, remembering Nikki from Christmas Day several years earlier. It was a positive validation that things would be okay. Just as the conversation with Brian had been full of unsaid subtexts so it had been with the rest of his extended family. He only had seven close family members beyond his parents and siblings. Both his father’s sisters and their husbands were coming, his cousin and her husband were coming and so too was his Grandma. Andrew’s mother was an only child, and both his aunts only had one child each, and one of them now lived in Australia. They had all taken the change of venue without comment but that didn’t mean the phone lines weren’t burning up in the background. Frankly that was his parent’s problem not his. He had asked Brian, Doug, Mhairi and Creighton to be discreet and not broadcast his accomplishments too loudly. But Andrew had told them not to lie either and so there was a risk that some information would become known but he was surprisingly unconcerned about it. This was the coda to the first part of his life.

Such thoughts and musings were extinguished at 1.00. He took his camera bag, his tripod and his purchase from Millett’s from the boot of his car and transferred it over to Tony’s car. It wasn’t much bigger than Andrew’s but it had four doors and Maggie would have more space in the back. Andrew at his height was in the front. They hadn’t even set off when Maggie threw her arms round his neck from the back seat and kissed his cheek.

“Given that you are off to Cambridge in three weeks this is hardly a surprise but you are a right clever clogs, you know that don’t you? Sure we chat a lot and even talk about the modelling. Yet you have ramped up the intensity of the shoots. I have been posing naked for seven years now. I started a month after I turned 18. Never have I been so excited about what I was doing, how I was posing. I don’t know if it is the locations rather than the studio, whether it is because Tony is there now that we are a couple, but there is something almost scary how well you know what I will respond to. I have been stark naked for hours in a studio in front of groups of guys numbering into the high teens. And it was exciting, but it was nothing like yesterday morning. Walking about Blackford Hill in those new clothes I felt more exposed than when I was naked in a studio. It must be the outdoors that does it because it was crazy the way the coat moved and I was conscious I was naked under it. We have posed all over Edinburgh but.”

Maggie paused and drew breath.

“It was when you had me bending over that it started to make more sense. What you are doing is a very selfless act, which is a crazy thing to say since I am the one getting naked. Yet it is true. You are my friend, our friend, and you respect me. But you also know how to nudge me forward, let my emotions and excitement take over. You were off to the side keeping the shots within my limits but then you had Tony stand right behind me. I thought my heart was going to explode I was so excited. Tony’s eyes were seeing everything the camera couldn’t capture and I knew it. I am totally beside myself to see the expression on my face. I heard you take three quick shots so it probably changed. And then the two of you teasing me as we walked back to the car park. I am like a high wire walker on a windy day, trying to walk the fine line of just wanting to flash the whole world while also being shy and concerned if people found out what I am like. And you take me to these places where I am up high on the wire and then you just add more wind. It was like that at the quarry with that tee box right behind the bushes. I loved the mundanity of their conversations while I am standing naked 20 feet away.”

Maggie leaned back in her seat and exhaled again.

“I am excited about what you have planned for this afternoon, in case it wasn’t obvious.”

Andrew looked over at Tony who was laughing quietly.

“She has been like that ever since yesterday morning. I am not a young man anymore.”

Maggie shrieked and whacked Tony on the arm but they all laughed. Maggie was clearly an exhibitionist; a word Andrew had never heard and didn’t know. But Maggie had a desire to show off. She had strict self-imposed limits of how she would pose but the shoots with Andrew and Tony were challenging her. And she was loving it.

The journey down the coast did not take long, less than an hour. The found the signs for Yellowcraigs and were able to park in the carpark without a problem. But the car park was a lot busier than they had anticipated and so the three of them walked down to the beach leaving all the camera gear in the boot of the car. As soon as they got to the beach it was clear they were going to have to try somewhere else. It wasn’t packed but there were a lot of families around and looking down the beach they could see kids playing in the dunes as well. It wasn’t going to work.

Robert Louis Stevenson, the author of Treasure Island, was a Scot and had visited the area. This area and the little town of North Berwick just along the coast played up the fact that parts of the story, especially the shape and topography of Treasure Island itself were based on islands just off the coast there. None of the three of them knew this detail although they spotted a large tourist board near the carpark giving them the basic details. It was a comparatively quiet and remote beach but it was not empty; it was too famous.

So they were back in the car and headed further along the coast. One of the disadvantages of being the son of a man who liked history was that Andrew had been dragged to many a historic site around Scotland. One of them had been a heavily ruined castle called Tantallon east of North Berwick. Andrew remembered little of the visit, and none of the history, other than it was remote, windy and desolate. So they drove up to the little car park which had three cars in it; one of them in the staff space. This was not Edinburgh Castle with hordes of tourists. The three of them paid the £1 for entry and walked along the grassy path to the wreck of the castle. They passed one couple on their way back to the carpark so there was only one car load of people walking around and through the ruin. Maggie, now channelling her inner Monica, was in a button up dress with a little jacket over it and a simple pair of sandals. The one other set of visitors were a couple of around 40 and what appeared to be the parents of one of them. And they had split up and were wandering around so the initial shots were of Monica looking frustrated and playing with the buttons of her dress. But then, just as at Craigmiller, they were on their own. That seemed to be the challenge for these shoots, having people around, but not watching. So Andrew shot a couple of rolls of film but it was the same as Craigmiller, just a different ruined castle. The day was threatening to turn into a bust but Tony spoke to the local pensioner manning the ticket office and he told them of a ‘secret’ beach less than a mile away. It was secret in that it was down a private road which was barely passable, Tony would have to be careful of his car.

And that is how they ended up at Seacliff Beach. And it was pretty much as the local had described it. The road down was rutted and full of potholes but they made it there and when they got to the carpark there were only half a dozen other cars parked. There were people about but not too many. When they walked down the short path to the beach it was perfect. A wide open, sandy beach, with a few people scattered about. There was one family close to the path but 400 metres of beach stretched away to their right. Two couples were tucked up against the undergrowth, almost hidden and Andrew wondered if the place was a local make-out spot. Once they were beyond the last of the people they selected a spot near the eastern end of the beach. The sand was only metres away from a rocky promontory and depending on who was watching there may be the chance to take some shots there as well.

The final purchase Andrew had made at the camping store was a simple windbreak, an essential for Scottish beaches, with the Atlantic Ocean and North Sea winds. Andrew had gone to the shop to buy a small windbreak, just large enough to give some privacy. But he had found a nine panel windbreak that was 20 feet long. It was also five tall, it was more of a moveable fence. Andrew held the stakes while Tony used the mallet to drive them into the sand deep enough to stay upright. Tony then threw a towel down just at the edge of the break so he could see past it and keep an eye on the other people wandering about. Monica in the meantime had quickly stripped and was cavorting around, posing behind the windbreak. She too was on a beach towel and was rolling around. Andrew shot her through a progression of poses where she went from flat on her back, to on her hands and knees, to kneeling, then sitting before finally realising that she could stand and all that was visible was her neck and head. Andrew was moving around to try to capture the people in the background. They would be nothing but indistinct smudges but he knew that the fact they were there was important to Monica. The shoot was good, it was fun, but there was something missing. Andrew took the third and final blanket and went beyond the windbreak. He leaned back against a tuft of grass, his camera not obvious to the other beach goers. Monica stood waiting for his next pose instructions.

“Tony, bring your towel and come and kneel behind Monica.”

Looking confused Tony did as requested. Andrew checked through the lens, there was no sign of him.

“Okay, all I can see is your face Monica. Without saying anything tell me what Tony is doing to you.”

A seagull squawking in the distance as there was silence behind the windbreak. Monica was standing there trying to parse apart Andrew’s instruction. But it was obvious that Tony understood first. Her face was suddenly shocked and her head whipped round. Then the penny dropped and Andrew started to capture the range of emotions. He didn’t take many shots, he didn’t need to as Monica altered between lusty and happy, sometimes even happy lust. The last two shots were just as she gripped the tops of two of the stakes and moaned, and then the look on her face when she opened her eyes to see Andrew capturing the moment of her release. Andrew took one final shot of Monica standing there exuding relaxed embarrassment. Again Andrew was keen to develop this roll to see if he had captured the progression.

The final part of the day didn’t even involve the camera. Monica scooted over to the towel that Andrew had sat on and just lay back, legs out straight, her ankles crossed. The three of them chatted away first while Andrew packed up his camera and Tony pulled up the windbreak and rolled it up and put back into its carrying case. But then the three of them sat and chatted away for 20 or 30 minutes, Andrew and Tony facing west towards Monica and down the beach. For the first time Maggie lay naked in front of them, not pretending to be a model, just being herself, accepting that this was a part of her nature. Now she was hidden from the rest of the beach by the tuft of dune grass but there was no pretence, no need to hide behind her Monica persona. It was Tony who started the chat.

“How are you feeling? You okay?”

Maggie smiled and nodded.

“I am fine. Way more than fine, great. Surprised. And very relaxed.”

The three of them chuckled quietly. Tony turned to Andrew.

“I am 32, and I started photographing models, naked I mean, when I was 19. So I have been doing this for more than 10 years. But I don’t think the way that you do Andrew. Mags was joking about you being a genius on the drive down but I wonder if there is something to it. Can we talk about this weekend? Where did you get the ideas from?”

“I know that this is going to be a shit answer but most of it is from watching people around the city. I was walking down to a meeting and I saw a woman in higher than normal boots, not as high as the ones I got, but closer to the knee than I had seen. I remember thinking that Monica would look great in something like that. That was the spark. It was the same with the coat. I was walking along George IV Bridge behind a group of tourists. One of the women had a coat on similar to the one I bought. She had on tight jeans and the coat was just tantalisingly long enough to cover her arse, but only just. Again, just a nothing moment, but I am very visual. I think that is why I enjoy photography, capturing the visual of a moment. And then today well they were all places I had either heard about, Yellowcraigs Beach, or a place I had been dragged as a child by my father, Tantallon. I went to Millet’s to get a small windbreak for privacy, and keep the worst of the wind off us, but saw this huge long one so bought it instead. The last hour was triggered by your reaction to Tony yesterday. Having him there allows you to be naughty. I am the audience, I am the one capturing your illicit and secret life, but Tony is there to provide the spark, to goad you on. The photos don’t change, there is nothing captured that you haven’t done before, yet they are completely different.”