Chapter 6

Less than a week later Marianne got out of the taxi outside CAT studio.

From the outside, it looked like a small slightly run-down photographic shop in a terrace of similarly sized (and similarly run-down) shops. There was a small display of second-hand cameras, and a variety of different films for compact 'Instamatic', 35mm and larger format cameras.

Marianne went in and the shop bell rang. She looked around, seeing a variety of different photographic albums for sale as well as some more cameras and lenses. An older lady came into the shop from the back, went to the counter and asked, "Hello, how may I help you?"

"I'm, um, here to see Chris about some modelling?"

"Oh, you'd be Marianne?" When Marianne nodded the lady continued, "He mentioned that you'd be coming this afternoon. I'll take you through to the studio."

She led Marianne through the back into a short corridor. The walls had long ago been painted a pale cream colour, but were now largely covered in large photographs of shoes, pens, buildings, bottles and other objects in some quite creative lighting. All were pin-sharp and clearly professional.

"I'm Chris's mother, Linda, by the way."

"It's lovely to meet you, Linda," Marianne replied as they turned left at the bottom of a short flight of steps. Linda knocked on the door at the end and called out, "Chris? Marianne's here."

"Okay, you can come through" Marianne heard through the door. Linda opened it and invited Marianne to follow her in.

At first, the room looked quite dark. Marianne's eyes were drawn immediately to a young woman 'on stage', wearing a short robe and relaxing on a small chair. Her blonde hair glowed in the bright light. As her eyes adjusted, more detail could be picked out in the rest of the large space — about the size of a small village hall, with a tall ceiling easily big enough to accommodate the overhead light on it's counterweighted pole.

"Thanks, Mum. Hello, Marianne, it's lovely to meet you again," Chris, the photographer, told her. "This is Pearl, she's an experienced model who I've known for years — she'll help you with your makeup and such, and give you some help with the poses if you need it."

"Hi, Marianne," Pearl said, coming over to meet her. As she moved Marianne was a little taken aback to find that the robe was covering nothing but Pearl.

"Sorry!" Pearl said, closing up the robe. "We were just trying out a few new shots."

"That's okay... um, I'm not sure I can do that, straight off..."

Chris quickly put her mind at ease, saying, "You don't have to pose nude, Marianne. That's not the purpose of today's shoot at all. I just want to see how you look, how you react, in front of a camera, how you respond to direction and whether or not you bring that extra 'something' with you in the lens. It's hard to know beforehand, though of course you do look wonderful, which is always a good sign!"

"And part of my job today is to put you at ease, and I've done the opposite. Sorry, again, but don't worry, you'll love it!" Pearl told her, before whisking her off to the small curtained-off model's changing room.

"I've known Chris for over five years, he's a really good photographer. If he'd move to London he could be quite famous, but he's determined to stay here for some reason," Pearl said as she thoroughly cleansed Marianne's face. She deftly applied makeup as she went on, "He's really nice, but don't be afraid to answer him back! Also, say when you've had enough — he's a workaholic once he gets going. Linda normally makes sure he keeps to times, though."

Pearl stood back and turned Marianne to face the mirror. "What do you think?"

Marianne looked at the face in the mirror. She was now wearing a little more makeup than she usually did, but it wasn't the amount, it was the way it had been applied. She looked really good!

"That's amazing! How did you learn to do that?" she asked Pearl.

"Oh, it's just one of the things I've picked up along the way," she told Marianne." Just then they heard Chris' voice:

"Hello, is there a model in the house?"

Pearl smiled. "Our master calls! Best we get you out there, Marianne, before he threatens us with all kinds of punishments!"

Pearl stood, drew back the curtains and led Marianne to the centre of the staged area. It stood perhaps three inches above the rest of the studio, a clean, plain floor.

"I thought we'd start with some simple portrait shots, Marianne, so all you've got to do is sit on the stool and look pretty. You can look pretty, can't you?" he asked her, teasingly.

"Oh, shut up you, you'll put her off!" Pearl told him, sticking out her tongue.

"I hope you're going to use that!" he told her with a smile, and Pearl smacked his arm, playfully.

Soon afterwards, Marianne was sat upon the stool. Chris had pulled two lights fairly close together in front of her, and had placed the other two sidelights to light the backdrop behind; the toplight was just off-centre on her hair. After checking the light with a meter, Chris nodded to himself as if he'd merely confirmed what he already knew, then shot a Polaroid first and showed it to her. Marianne was a bit distracted by the flash, and knew she'd shut her eyes.

"It helps if you close your eyes for a few moments just before, and then open them wide, Marianne," Pearl told her. They did it again, and this time Marianne was able to avoid the blink.

"See how great you look?" Chris asked her, showing her the Polaroid, and Marianne could only agree.

Then he went back to his camera — A large, boxy one that he looked down into. "Look at me, chin down a little..." Flash! "Excellent! Now slightly to one side..."

An hour later Marianne was getting into the taxi that would take her home. She had several Polaroids, including a couple of her in a short dress, and also one of her in a skimpy bikini that looked really sexy. Chris had promised that he'd present her with a folder full of photographs once they'd come back from the local laboratory.

"When we do a real commercial shoot I'll use transparency film, but for the test shoot colour neg's fine and it's easier, too. I expect I'll do some black 'n whites soon as well — those I can process myself, so you'll see them more quickly after the shoot."

"Process them yourself, huh? What sort of pictures do you shoot in black and white, then?" Marianne had asked him with a half-smile, half grimace on her face.

Chris had looked pained. "No, not porn. I don't do that. But, yes, I do full nude shoots. The sort of thing that gets hung on the wall at exhibitions — fine art, they're called. Some of them can be erotic, but there's only the model there, no-one else, and I don't do the really graphic stuff."

Then he'd shown her one of the pictures he meant.

The black-and-white print showed Pearl, naked, standing against a plain backdrop. She was lit mainly from one side, highlighting her jutting breasts with their erect nipples. Her weight was on one leg, turned slightly away from the camera, looking proud, predatory. It was a wonderful photograph, sensual without being tawdry.

"See?"

'Oh, yes, ' thought Marianne, 'I see all right. If I can look half as good as that... '

Marianne waited for Simon that evening in the 'Cross Keys'.

"How'd it go?" he asked her, sitting next to her after getting his pint.

"Ooh, it was so much fun!" Marianne told him. They kissed, and then she shyly handed over an envelope.

"See what you think, Simon..."

Simon looked at the Polaroids. Twice. Each.

"These are really good, Marianne. Really good. Are there any more?"

"Oh, there'll be a whole bunch of them to come once they're developed. Chris said it would be a few days."

"Nothing... racier?"

"Would you like there to be, Simon?" she asked him, eyebrows arched.

"Nonono, I was just asking," he replied, blushing to the roots of his hair.

Marianne leaned in close and whispered into his ear.

"Chris did ask if I was okay with topless work. I told him I'd even consider nude stuff, depending on how raunchy he wanted to get. He's shown me an example of what he does, nude I mean. There was a really lovely girl there with me today, a girl named Pearl. He'd shot her, nude, just standing there, looking amazing. I'd love to look like that. I'd bet that you'd love for me to show you..."

She pulled away from him, and giggled at his obvious response, hand in front of face. Then she drank her white wine, quickly, gesturing impatiently to Simon to sink his pint as well.

Simon chuckled at her eagerness and did so, quickly.

In his room that night Marianne did her best to duplicate the pose that Pearl had used.

Their lovemaking was ardent indeed!

It was almost two weeks later. Simon came off-shift at mid-day, looking forward to meeting Marianne and enjoying an afternoon with her.

He raced home and had a bath, a shave and generally fixed himself up. He was almost ready when he heard the phone ring downstairs. While trying to comb his unruly hair he could hear his mother answer the phone, but couldn't make out what was said until his mother called up to him.

"Simon? Could you come to the phone, dear? It's Marianne."

"Coming!" he called and rushed down to the phone. He took it from his mother with a grateful glance and said into the mouthpiece, "Hello gorgeous! Wassup?"

"Simon? Would you mind terribly if I didn't see you this afternoon after all? Chris just rang and told me there's a modelling opportunity come up — but it's this afternoon. A real shoot, for some advert or other, some client who makes beach toys. Chris is going to take me to Camber and get the shoot done on location."

Simon just stood there, phone in hand, unable to speak.

"Simon? You still there?"

"Yes, yes, Marianne, I'm still here."

"Do you mind?"

There was another pause, before Simon answered, "No, no, of course not, Marianne. Off you go — enjoy yourself."

He heard Marianne's excited voice scratchily from the phone, "Oh, thank you, Simon, thank you. I'll see you tonight, or if it runs late, it'll probably be tomorrow. See you!"

He heard the 'click' of the phone going down as he said, "See you, love," and knew that she hadn't heard him.

Of course, he'd been unable to say that she shouldn't go. But he'd been slumped over his third pint of the evening when John and Patty had found him.

"Simon? Are you all right? Where's Marianne?" John asked him. Simon saw both his friend and the pretty girl with him looking worriedly at him. Simon had had enough to drink to dull the pain, but not enough to make him drunk.

So he explained to them where Marianne was — posing for a camera somewhere, on a real paid-for shoot. "I'm pleased for her, honest," he told them, "but it was a really last-minute thing." He lowered his face to the mug of beer he was holding and continued, almost too quietly to be heard, "I miss her. I think I'm going to lose her."

John clapped him on the shoulder. "Don't be a dunce, Simon. She's pretty enough to model, and she's enjoying doing something new — that's all. You know, it sounds and looks to me like you're actually jealous. Have you any idea how stupid that is?"

"Huh?" was Simon's witty comeback.

"Simon, Marianne's not going to do anything silly," Patty told him, gently, with a warning glance at her boyfriend. "This is a proper commercial shoot, you said? In that case, it'll be all above board. I expect she'll be too tired to want to do anything but crawl into a hot bath, followed by bed. Did you tell her where to ring?"

Simon thought back, a little hazily. "No, I don't think I did."

"She'll probably ring your home, then. Go home and get an early — well, early-ish — night, Simon. She'll see you soon enough."