Chapter 8

The following morning arrived far too soon. By the time the four of them were at the very end of Kaperis beach they had mostly woken up. It had been grumbly and mumbly up until then. As Veronique promised it was a fast paced shoot for the first 90 minutes, it was not until 7.30 that she called a break. The morning had been swim trunks and bikini bottoms and then nothing at all. Lots of frolicking in the water before coming back up the beach, drying off with the towels, wrapping the pareos around them. They must have shot that four times. One of the times Veronique even let Chiara wear some clothes. A tacky looking silver bikini, but with the sunlight reflecting off it and the water, it looked surprisingly elegant. After a break and some water it was on to the hot and naughty.

It was a massage, oiling, sunscreen scene. Chiara was lying naked on a big beach towel, a matching pareo draped over her hips, while Andrew felt her up, using the application of sunscreen as an excuse. Veronique had gone and bought four cotton shirts in Ayia Napa the previous evening for him to wear. She had hacked the sleeves off two of them so that his hands and arms, all of him that was visible in the shot, were bare. Personally, as opposed to for the shoot, Andrew applied lots of sunscreen and was okay with this for a little while. By 9.30 they were done with those shots and Veronique sat apart from them, jotting things down in a little notebook. Andrew had not heard the word or phrase story-boarding before but later as he got more experience he came to understand that this was what she was doing. The vision for the commercial or commercials was not all in her head. She had a list of shots that she wanted to get. The three of them had a 20 minute break while she figured out what else she wanted, or needed.

“After lunch I want some bedroom scenes. Andrew, you said your room has a view. Can we shoot there?”

Andrew was positive that the resort had some kind of policy about random film crews turning up and shooting in their rooms. But what they didn’t know they couldn’t freak out about.

“Sure.”

“Good. Next, I want to hire a boat and to get footage of you Andrew, jumping into the sea and swimming ashore for Chiara to fall into your arms. We will drop Chiara off at the beach and then back out, you will jump in and then we will follow until it is shallow enough for Michel to stand and film. Just a little more for the story. Finally, I know that you have to work tomorrow and we are all heading back to France but can we come back here at the same time tomorrow morning? I want to try some different things. We will be done by 7.15 and we can all get back to start work or pack and leave.”

Andrew could see Monday being a long day but other than that he had no objection. He nodded in agreement. Chiara and Michel grumbled at the early start but both agreed as well.

“Good, thank you. Now the bedroom scenes. We have shot lots of footage up to the point where the action starts, fade out, ravishing ensues. What I want to shoot this time is the after action scene. No make-up, messy hair, sweaty, the reality of it. Look you are both hot and so it is not complete reality but I want sweat running off you both. Can we try that?”

He shrugged and looked at Chiara. As usual, the impact was disproportionately on the woman.

“So after he has me ten feet in the air you want to show what I look and feel like afterwards? Does that not take away from the viewers’ imagination? However we look it will not be what someone thought it would look like.”

“I know, I want to try it though.”

Chiara did not seem convinced but grudgingly agreed.

“Okay.”

They trekked back down the beach and separated. Veronique was off to find a suitable boat and hire it for the day while Chiara and Andrew went back to the resort. He stopped at her hotel and she quickly packed and brought all her stuff out to the resort. Who were they kidding?

“Are you okay with what Veronique wants?”

“Yes. It will be easy, it is not like I hate you. Think about yesterday morning. I all but ripped the clothes off your body, you tried to break the bed you were fucking me so hard, and I wanted you to try harder. This will not be a difficult look to achieve.”

“I know that, it is more the staging of it, making it look like it happened. Plus are you okay with people seeing you in such an intimate way?”

“They are not seeing me in an intimate way. They are seeing me lying in bed with my friend looking like we have just fucked. They are not seeing us for real. Andrew, in this business sex sells. Our job is to paint a picture, a fantasy for sure, but a picture none the less. Buy a Hermès towel, or wrap, or scarf or whatever the product, and you can be in this picture. Men who look nothing like you can imagine lying next to me, women who look nothing like me can imagine lying next to you. Plus the setting is beautiful, the weather stunning. When you go into a Hermès store in December when it is cold and snowing outside, this is what they are selling. They are teasing the customer with that tiny piece of hope that this could be them. Or a man goes into the store and buys a pareo as a present for his wife. It is an expensive and thoughtful gift but you don’t think that she remembers us on the beach, us lying in bed? Regardless of what the woman’s body is like, just for that moment she can imagine she looks like me.”

She paused to look at Andrew.

“Hermès are trying something racier than normal, but they are still selling love, with just more lust thrown in.”

Chiara wasn’t patronising, it was more earnest and sincere. Modelling was all about creating the fantasy, as she said creating the picture but allowing the customer to imagine themselves in it, however improbable. Andrew had started at the naughtier end of the spectrum and looked like he was going to stay there. For the next two years his job was to portray this fantasy lifestyle, to be naked, to be surrounded by naked women, of all ages. All in the name of selling luxury items to people around the world. He went up to the car park and guided Veronique and Michel through the resort, avoiding reception and up to his room. They both looked around with a professional eye.

“It will do.”

High praise indeed. The shots they tried to create lacked something, however much they tried it all looked staged. There was a reason the after shots in love scenes looked so antiseptic. It was difficult to capture the look. They took a break and Andrew stood on the deck with Chiara.

“I have no idea if this is appropriate or not so please don’t shout but the shot is easy to recreate.”

She looked confused for a second before getting his meaning.

“How do we do it? This is not porn.”

“Remember yesterday when I came back from my run. Something about the way I was sweating turned you on.”

Chiara smiled at the memory.

“It was powerful, I wanted to have you right there, I don’t really know why but it was real.”

“So how about I run out to the headland and back. Work up a sweat, get the shirt sticking to me. You can stand at the balcony watching me, Michel behind you looking over your shoulder. Then when I get back we kick them out for five minutes and once we are lying back on the bed, let them back in.”

“I will need a pillow to stop the screams.”

A pillow he could provide. Everyone knew the truth but they all clung to the fiction that Chiara and Andrew needed a few moments of privacy to ‘mentally get in the right place’. Ask you no questions, get told no lies. And it was so easy after that. The two of them were so turned on that to expect any stamina was ridiculous. Andrew knelt back on his knees, Chiara pulled off the bed, only her feet and head touching the bed. But rather than close his eyes and ignore the visual as he had so often with Suzanne and Helena, this time he looked down at his gorgeous lover. Now her face was hidden behind a pillow but her body was splayed out in front of him. Tanned, toned, and just sexy and sexual as get out. That he lasted a minute was a miracle. But four minutes after they threw the two of them out, Veronique and Michel were back in the room. A sheet, low across their stomachs, all that was preserving their modesty. Chiara had bed head, just fucked hair, but what they couldn’t fake was the coming down from the moment of orgasm. They lay side by side just recovering. It wasn’t Julie Christie and Donald Sutherland, but it was as close as they could manage.

The next hour was a bit of a blur. Shots walking out onto the deck, hug, kisses, flirtations. And a lot of it was the continuity of the film making process. They were 10 miles from the beach but Veronique had the two of them dress in all the outfits they had worn at the beach, even the silver bikini, and then head to the door. The illusion was that the empty beach was just on the other side of the door. By the time they were done Andrew was ready for a break. He stood on the balcony and watched the sights on the beach below. Better said, he stared off into the distance letting the exertions of the day fade. Veronique came up behind him.

“You can’t do that with every model you know.”

Her tone was teasing but there was an underlying serious message.

“I know. Remember I am not a very good actor. I need a model who I can respond to.”

“Do you think you can recreate that look, that feeling without privacy first?”

There was a carefully worded statement.

“I don’t know. What do you think? I need you to provide me direction and guidance, you can tell I am a complete amateur.”

“In some ways yes you are, but in others you are very easy to work with. You never question anything, you just try to do what I ask. It is almost impossible to create the scene today. But it is incredibly powerful Andrew. So potent and real.”

She stopped and thought for a moment.

“What you did is the exact opposite of what normally happens. In sex scenes in the movies or on television there is a lot of what we did back in Paris but normally under the covers or with careful lighting. And what they are trying to show is intimacy without the act. That is why it is called acting and why creating staged sex scenes are very difficult, for both sexes. You are not an actor, although neither is Chiara, and we do not want to try to create a sex scene, I wanted to show the reality of great sex in a hot climate. Not the act but the aftermath. I don’t think there is any doubt that the two of you have conveyed that. It is a powerful piece to add to the portfolio of commercials that Hermès is creating. It is about as intimate as it is possible to get. Way more intimate than some carefully shot sex scene with actors. I would like to explore the possibility of doing something similar with other models. I just don’t know how to achieve it without resorting to.”

She didn’t finish the sentence but they both knew what had been resorted to.

“Like I said, it is something I am going to think about for next week.”

The rest of the day was fun, in a hard work sort of way. They drove back over to the east coast, but this time parked further down the coast. A wizened old Cypriot, faced wrinkled and deeply tanned from a lifetime in the sun, took them out in his little boat. It was a 20’ cruiser, nothing fancy but perfect for what Veronique wanted. All the outfits that they went through on the beach and had re-worn back at his room where cycled through for a third time. Andrew was not sure what the old Cypriot was making of it but he kept his mouth shut and his eyes very much open. Finally he nosed close to the beach and Chiara nimbly jumped over board and waded up onto the beach. She carried a bag of clothes above her head and once on the beach again worked her way through all the different outfits while being directed by Veronique from the boat. Finally the boat eased back from the shore until the depth was safe for Andrew to dive into the water. Once he was in the water he lazily swam towards the beach, the boat just behind him. He tested the depth and once it was at armpit depth Michel joined him in the water before Veronique handed him the camera. Then she too jumped into the sea. Michel shot Andrew swimming and wading up to Chiara on the beach. The 40 minutes as the sun started to set, and when it finally was below the horizon, were again fast and frantic but Veronique seemed happy with all the footage. It was a lot tougher getting back out to the boat and onto it in the twilight but they managed.

No one had any chat as they motored down to the marina, it had been a long and tiring day. But there was also the sense of having succeeded. All the different outfits and all the continuity shots led him to believe that Veronique was trying to get at least three, maybe even more, commercials out of the weekend. All that would happen later when she was back in Paris; he had one more morning and then this shoot was over. Chiara and Andrew had dinner in Ayia Napa before returning to the resort. They finally showered the salt, sweat and excesses of the day off their bodies and then went to bed. It was an intimate coupling, romantic almost, before they fell sound asleep.

The last morning was more of the same from the day before. Veronique had hired the old man to motor up the coast again. He stayed south of where they were but Michel got lots of shots of Andrew and Chiara with the boat in the background. Veronique was not sure she could use it but it was there just in case. Other than that it was the same as the day before, but also different with different positions, locations, poses, outfits. All shot at a frantic pace as they had to head back to the carpark at 7.15. Even the farewells were brief. Chiara transferred her bag over to their hire car and with hugs and kisses Andrew was on his way back to Nissi Beach.

He cleaned up, breakfasted and was at the garrison MP station at 9.00. Which was about 40 minutes before Chambers and Brodie showed up, looking very much the worse for wear. Houghton and Andrew exchanged a brief smirk but wisely kept silent. At lunch time Andrew prepared to head all the way over to the SW corner of the island to RAF Akrotiri.

“If this Major Clarke starts asking me questions do I answer him or ask him to wait to talk to you.”

“Ask him to wait until he gets here. I want to hear the politics the Pay Corps are going to use to defend this.”

So the rest of the day was spent driving back and forth across the bottom of Cyprus, and hanging around Akrotiri for a plane that was 45 minutes late. Once he located Major Clarke and got his kitbag in the car they headed back. The questions started thick and fast.

“You appear to be very young to be part of this investigation.”