Chapter 5

At that time of year in northern Scotland daylight only lasts six hours or so. With all the clouds it was not like they could see the sun rise anyway so they sat and had a leisurely breakfast. It was after 9.00 before they headed north on a series of minor roads, often single lane with passing places. It wasn’t raining but it was a cold blustery day, it looked even colder outside from the warmth of the car. They were driving in one of the most remote parts of Britain, the whole of Scotland north of Inverness is nothing but empty space interspersed with thin ribbons of small roads. Compared to so many other countries and areas of the world it was not that desolate or empty but in the crowded little islands of the British Isles this was about as remote and thinly populated as you could get. So they drove on empty roads and through tiny hamlets and villages.

“What turns you on Andrew? And don’t say turning your partner on, I know that one. What turns you on? Is there anything specific?”

Suzanne had asked this of him many times in the past, trying to discern if there was something that was specific to him. Andrew thought about what she had asked.

“Okay, let’s see. I find intelligent women attractive, I like fit or athletic women. I like women with a strong core.”

“A strong core?”

“Strong thighs, firm stomach, solid arse, that sort of thing. Over the years I have been with much smaller, petite women, but I like to feel the strength in a women. Especially when I am eating them out. I enjoy the fight, feeling her muscles flex and clench. It probably relates back to my size and being able to be myself. You know I can be soft and gentle but at my most passionate I like to fuck hard.”

Suzanne ran her hand up his leg and cupped his groin, without saying a word.

“Tease.”

A very unapologetic, mischievous giggle was his only response.

“You know I have a ‘damsel in distress white knight’ syndrome as well. I like to help people. My tutoring and coaching has all been women. There is probably some deep link between liking intelligent women and wanting to help them. I see the obstacles in the way of women, the way that so many men think about women, the prohibitions in place against women. It is one of my big triggers with religion when I think about it. Religions are institutionalised bigotry and misogyny, there are very few religious organisations across any of the different religions that treat women fairly and equally. So in turn I like to try and help and I am fortunate to have people that have thought the same way as me. It was Jim Barnes that suggested that I take Rupashi to meet him, Doug Somers is a very proud mentor to Leslie. These are just two small examples. So there is that although it is probably a way of describing me rather than what turns me on.”

Andrew thought what else.

“I think the thing that turns me on most of all is the simple visuals of a situation.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well for example last night when we were talking, we both were immersed in the set that I described. I found the visuals to be exciting. Men are visual creatures, you don’t need me to tell you that. But it is very odd and confusing. I have been struck on numerous occasions how strange it is that I can have you naked in my arms in bed, watch you get dressed, walk across the road to the Baths but yet when you walk out of the changing room still find you even more.”

He stopped and thought.

“I was going to say more attractive but that is not the right word. More appealing, more something. Let me think about what the right word is. But it is still incongruous to be drawn to you clothed when you were naked five minutes before in the flat. I mean look at the playsuit, the corset. Those are visuals. Now their specific purpose is to clip the cuffs to them but it is more. On Hogmanay one of the ways that I was permanently hard was you sitting there, kneeling there in the corset. So there is a dress-up part to my psyche I think.

“The last thing is my photography. You heard me talk about it all a couple of days ago. At the age of 12 I knew a 19 year old woman that modelled nude, at least part time. And Maggie used to tease me all the time, tell me about my 16^th birthday present. So from before cancer, before puberty I have known about this hidden world. And it changed me, it is probably the third most important thing relating to women from that time. Leslie and the talk with Faith and I, Kenzie and my first time, and getting to know Maggie the person while also understanding how she was Monica the model, the same person but a different person at the same time.”

Andrew stopped. He wasn’t making sense to himself so how was Suzanne meant to understand?

“I am being even more incoherent than normal. Photography for me was an escape. I could get out of the house, away from Mum and Dad, and my sister. When I started working for Tony I was thrown into a man’s world. I worked for someone he knew both the summer I was 12 and again the next summer until they discovered my cancer. It was a removals business and it was hard, tiring work with older working class men. And Tony took the time to talk to me about dealing with people, it was the first time I was ever told about ‘takers’. So I got parented, even when I was still at home and things were notionally normal. Tony ran this camera club, a bunch of guys that came round to the studio every other Friday night and photographed a model. I was partially developing these pictures from the age of 12. Not printing them out but developing the film into strips of negatives.

“But during all this, and especially after I returned to work there once my cancer went into remission, I became friends with Maggie. The lady who was a nude model, and didn’t hide it and wasn’t ashamed of doing it, well I knew her as a nice lady who sat and had coffee with me at 14 and 15. What I have taken an inordinate amount of time to explain is that through her I have always seen the models as people. When I photograph these middle-aged mothers doing a fantasy shoot, it feels very personal, it is very personal.”

Andrew stopped as again dots that were there in front of him suddenly aligned.

“I have just put this together in my own head. I love photographing people where it is something they have dreamed of doing. That is why I like doing these fantasy shoots. The name says it all, it is a fantasy for the model. And I like the idea of it being this secret for them. Something that they are doing for themselves, maybe for their husband but I like that everyday normal people can walk round with these thoughts in their head, these dreams.”

Suzanne had been patiently absorbing this disjointed mess of a conversation but she still sat waiting to see if there was any more.

“I talked about the visuals. I don’t have any artistic ability but I do have a creative mind. I have created shoots, created scenarios based on seeing something in a different context out on the street. The boots I bought for you in Amsterdam were because I saw the coat and immediately imagined you wearing it with boots. But I had done that before with a shoot. When you talked about wanting to take pictures for ourselves, that definitely excited me. I love the idea of being a photographer with you as the model.”

Andrew glanced over at Suzanne who was looked at him very pleased.

“Did any of that make any sense?”

“Stop the car a minute.”

They were on a deserted single lane road, and there was no car in sight, in either direction. Suzanne unbuckled and leaned over and kissed him.

“Not that I am complaining but I am a bit confused.”

Suzanne re-buckled herself and they carried on.

“Thank you for explaining about your photography. There were things you emphasised that you had told me three days ago but I hadn’t realised their significance. It is as clear as day that Maggie had an influence on the way that you look at and treat women. And even before that, how Tony treated you is like an older brother or father figure. But it is all part of the whole picture. But Andrew, let me ask you something. Have you done lots of things for me, including things that make you uncomfortable?”

“Well yes, you know I have.”

“Why do you do it?”

“Er, I know that you want it, you need it and you have no one else to turn to.”

“So you have done everything possible for me, to give me what I want sexually, would that be a fair summary?”

“I suppose although you are making it sound very dramatic.”

“Okay, but bear with me.”

“I have told you many times that you are my best friend.”

Andrew waited still confused. Suzanne sighed.

“Andrew, for a smart man you can be impossibly dense sometimes.”

He was still channelling Twain.

“Do you not think that I would love to do something for you? Even balance the scales a fraction. You have done so much for me, helped me so much. I would have to be a terribly self-absorbed person to not want to try and repay some of that. And one of the things you mentioned is something I want you to do anyway. I would love to be a model for you, think about various outfits, go shopping so that I can surprise you for once. Just thinking about it is getting me all excited. You saw all the covers of those videos, both the suck and fuck ones as well as the bondage ones. There were a whole bunch of clothes in all these stores. For goodness sake you bought me a dress that allows you just to bend me over and fuck me whenever you want.”

Loosening her seatbelt again Suzanne pushed herself off her seat and kissed his cheek.

“Thank you for telling me that. You have to let people in. You don’t realise how much people want to help you, want to give back to you. Never mind people generally, how much I want to do something for you, not for me but purely for you.”

Andrew drove in silence, scenery passing unobserved.

“Okay, but I think that we are doing that, you are doing that, within the context of your needs as well.”

Suzanne interrupted him.

“No I know all that. The corset, the playsuit, the dress, the coat and heels in Amsterdam. I know all that. But I want to you get back to Edinburgh, come home to the flat and for me to surprise you. You don’t think that we would fuck ourselves into exhaustion if you came home to find your camera ready and me all dressed up in some hooker clothes, or some leather gear or whatever. We don’t use the front bedroom, we could turn it into a studio. There is a bed, lots of wardrobes for clothes and costumes.”

There was a turnoff to a quarry just ahead, but the gate was closed and locked, the 2^nd is a holiday in Scotland. Andrew braked suddenly, stopped and backed into the entryway, off the road and partially hidden from it. Suzanne had guessed his plan and was unbuttoning her jeans before he had pulled on the handbrake. At 6’5” sex in a car is just a non-starter, even if he was a contortionist. Suzanne held her unbuttoned jeans up and ran round to Andrew’s side of the car. With the door providing additional shielding, and with both of them with their jeans round our ankles, Suzanne dropped onto him. They were both turned on, they were fucking outdoors in near freezing temperatures, yet it was a very intimate moment.

Seven minutes later we were on the road again. They could have stopped in the middle of the road and fucked right there as there was no trace of traffic the entire time they had been in the little pullout. Suzanne was sitting on his tee-shirt from the previous day, her jeans and knickers again around her ankles. Mind you her thighs were a serious distraction and in danger of causing Andrew to drive off the road. Once gravity had dealt with the worst of his deposit she redressed to much mock pouting.

“Well now I know what to get you for your birthday.”

They both laughed but they both knew it was true.

“I know the premise of this question is revolting and I apologise but do you think people like our parents have sex regularly?”

Andrew looked aghast at the question.

“I know, I know. But I have wondered a lot in the last few months as to when you stop having sex all the time.”

He understood what she was trying to say. The idea of anyone’s parents having sex, never mind regular sex was awful but they all were their age once.

“So let’s leave our own parents out of this, too horrific to contemplate. I know that when Freya watched the videos she and Jim disappeared off to their bedroom for a while. Now that I think about that it raises all sorts of questions I am not ready to think about, never mind answer. But my friend Olivia who is French and has seen the commercials on the television told me that her mother liked the idea from one of them and dragged her father off to the bedroom. And the parents of another person at College did the same thing. Their daughter is friends with Heloise and she was talking about the commercials and they went to bed suspiciously early. So yes it does happen but I have no idea of the frequency.”

“I think aging, tiredness and responsibilities get in the way. And it disappoints me and almost depresses me. I think about sex every day, when we are together we fuck every day, often multiple times a day, even in lay-bys in northern Scotland.”

They both laughed at that last one.

“Rome is my benchmark. Was there any day we didn’t fuck at least three times?”

“I don’t think so, more than half the days it was nearer five times.”

They both caught the other smiling at the memories as they drove into Lairg and found that the café was open. The fare was simple and plain but there was plenty of it and it was hot, perfect for the day. Their chat at the table was quiet and mundane, more interesting discussions saved for the next stage of the drive.

“We haven’t talked about your career, we haven’t really seen anything that stands out.”

“True. I think that talking to you was as important as watching the countryside. Asking you about the office was building up to be a big deal. Now I knew that you wouldn’t say no but I was conflicted about it.”

“Conflicted?”

“The whole idea of wanting to do it on my own, not be reliant on someone. But the truth is I know you have the office, and space within the office, even if you were going to be working there yourself. I just needed to get out of my own head. It goes back to what I talked about earlier. You do so much for me, and this is just one more example. I know something as comparatively trivial as playing dress-up and modelling for you is hardly balancing the scales but I am always looking for ways to repay you for all the things you have done for me. When I stop and think about it, this trip is just an extended walk and talk session, just more of a drive and talk session. But I was pleased to visit the distillery, well stand at the gate, and I was pleased that the trip afforded you the chance to see it. I think we should stop at Turnhouse on the way home so that you can show me your plane or helicopter.”

Andrew’s eyes showed what he wanted to do to her for all the teasing, and Suzanne’s eyes reflected that same desire. They walked back hand in hand to the car. But their flirty chat was disrupted by things related to Suzanne’s career choice. They approached Dornach from the north but across the Firth to the south of the town, the Flyboys were out practicing. The planes were small dots in the sky and Andrew had no idea what kind they were but the sound of them off in the distance was clear. Then on road south of the town they passed the Glen Morangie distillery, one of the most famous in the world. Within another 20 minutes they were at the Cromarty Firth and saw the oilrig construction yard at Nigg and just further down the road, the town of Invergordon, a former Royal Navy base.

“That has been quite the last hour. Away from the coast what little sign there is of people are some houses, the occasional farm. Here, wow. Lots of military, lots of industrial.”

They carried on south and Andrew could see Suzanne working some things through in her head. But it was only when they were out walking in Inverness, having checked into the hotel, that she commented on the day.

“I don’t know why I was so surprised. Just the complete contrast from the trip up and over from Ullapool. They talk about development along the coast when you study geography at school. In a country like Scotland you import and export goods; industry and factories, infrastructure, it is all on the coast. Look at all the little places we drove through yesterday, limited transport routes, all the businesses small. How many people are employed at the distillery?”

“I have no idea, I would have to ask. I don’t think it is a huge number.”

Andrew found out later it was 24, and most of them were only seasonal.

“When we came into Dornoch all the flirting stopped. Look at us being all serious and grown-up. Five hours ago you pulled off the road to fuck me.”

Suzanne suddenly stopped and looked at him.

“I was about to say that we had been talking about me modelling and you as the photographer were going to take advantage of me. Now we know it is a game but you have talked about some of your friends being treated that way when it was definitely not a game.”

That was quite the statement in the form of a question.

“You are right but it is easily dealt with. You don’t want to be called a whore and made to do something, you want to be called my lover. It is the same thing just the other way round. Your lover is going to take repeated advantage of you, he just happens to be photographing you when he talks about it. This is us playing sex games, not a real life situation.”

“I like that. It is exactly how I feel.”

Suzanne turned and bit her bottom lip in front of him.

“I wish you had brought your camera with you.”

Suddenly their walk was cut short.

The following morning Andrew was awake early as usual. They were waiting to go swimming when the local pool opened so there was no rush to get up. He lay in bed thinking about the last couple of days. The previous evening had been carnal excess from start to finish. They would be together less than two weeks this break and so there was no desire to go to the movies, sit in a pub all night, watch the television. But what Andrew was thinking about that morning was him and Suzanne. There were all sorts of mixed signals being sent. At one level Suzanne was talking about their life together after graduation, moving to London, using the office, the engineering company structure. Even the way she was talking about modelling for him. They had joked about another trip to Amsterdam, Suzanne had even talked about getting some proper photography lights, starting to create a mini-studio. But at the same time there had been an obvious and pointed lack of discussion about their life together after graduation. Yes, she was talking about things around the edge of it, but the one time Andrew tried to talk about it directly she cut it off again. And the word that echoed around in his head the most that morning was obstacles. Singular he understood, the missing part of his psyche that Suzanne needed. But the plural was giving him pause. Now the easy answer to all this would have been to ask her but he veered away from that. Why? Afraid of the answer was a convenient excuse, but he was sure there was more. It was months before he finally got his head out of his arse.

But in keeping with the day, and their relationship, seeming to have different layers, when they returned from the pool and quickly showered, Andrew took control. For the near three hour journey home Suzanne was wearing her playsuit, boots and the long grey coat. And as they walked over to the car she was all but skipping along beside him. Of course the problem with his plan was keeping his eyes on the road. Once they were out of Inverness Suzanne reclined her seat slightly and opened the coat. That was going to result in their fiery deaths from a car crash at a young age. The whole three days had been teasing and sexual and incredible. Suzanne did put clothes on, in a lay-by, before they got to Maggie and Tony’s new home. She left the playsuit on and just shimmied into jeans and a tight top. She looked unbelievably sexy. And she knew it. But then five miles further along the road they turned off to the right and descended the winding road to their house. Suzanne was captivated.

“This place is incredible. And you got it for nothing?”

“Technically, though we did have to spend a fortune to stabilise the slope and build the studio. But yes the transaction with the previous owner had no payment, we just assumed the liability.”

Maggie and Tony were Andrew’s friends, or they had been at first. With them and Leslie and Julian both being in Edinburgh they had become friends as well. Suzanne was welcoming and friendly to them but she had not spent a lot of time with them. But when Maggie opened the door to the house Suzanne rushed over and gave her a big hug.

“This place is amazing.”

Maggie briefly hugged Andrew before she was dragged off to show Suzanne the house. Andrew went and found Tony and they stuck the kettle on for some coffee.

“Welcome home.”

“It does feel surreal. Three big empty bedrooms, and the attic is enormous, even with the eaves it is huge up there.”

“You will just have to have lots of kids.”

That Tony didn’t immediately protest caught Andrew by surprise. He moved on quickly.

“Are you excited about starting on Monday?”

“Next week is all about trying everything for the first time. One of the regular models is taking the train over here, and then is going to cab it out from the station. But I may have one of the two assistants just collect the model going forward. We will definitely run them back to the station. Just all the little things like that.”

“Do you think you will have trouble getting models to come here?”

“Maybe at first. But it will force me to think about my shoots for the week. Where possible I will use the model all day, even if it is for different products, different styles. Nobody is going to come over here for a two hour booking, not unless they are desperate. Even a half day has a lot of travel. At the moment I envisage that I will work four days a week on the actual pictures and then spend the fifth day planning and sorting out the following week. If things stay good then I think I am going to need an administrator for all that stuff. I am not going to hire her, or him, until I am comfortable that the studio is a success. But I spend a fair bit of time dealing with models, and more and more their agents.”

“Agents, really?”

“If a model becomes professional then nearly all of them have agents. I am out of the amateur scene now, only very occasionally do I deal with someone new.”

“Do you have any problems?”

Tony thought about it.

“Word gets around, who is a chancer, who not to trust. But given that a large number of photographers have the same reputation I don’t make too much of a fuss. The models know what is expected for the shoot and I never push for more. I learned that lesson years ago. I have to gloss over my own first couple of years when I started as I was just as much of a chancer, always wanting the model to do more.”