Intro.

I wrote a series of shorts in various genres in late January and early February for a post-Valentine event (10 new stories and re-edits of another 11) and searching my memories for names of characters and plots, and these two names popped into my head. UK cinema goers from the early 1950s to now probably know the names and their theme tune “Asteroids” and the short clip adverts this agency put together just before the main movie. Yes, I remember the days when you got two films for the price of one cinema ticket, a B movie and then the main event, with an ice cream intermission (and the adverts) in between. The adverts were a mixture of National and local brands, some of them quite cheap and amateurish. Being a post-Valentines Day event launched on 15 February, I wanted the opposite of a romance story. I was thinking of a end-of-relationship, revenge, break-up story, perhaps with some sort of movie involved, with short clips stitched together reminiscent of that short sharp cinema ad break. Anyway, I came up with this bitter little story.

PEARL AND DEAN

“Damn it, Dean, careful with that camera gear. Put it in my room, while I check out the spa.”

“On it, Pearl,” I said, trying to ignoring the increasingly snarky attitude that my boss had been using with me recently.

Pearl Campbell is a best-selling wildlife photographer and author, her latest work in progress specialising in wetland birds and waders, hence her luxury hotel booking overlooking the Norfolk Broads estuary marsh, awaiting birds migrating from summer feeding grounds in the arctic circle, to see out the winter in gentler climes.

Once the birds were hunted keenly to supplement winter diets, now they’re hunted keenly by amateur birdwatchers and professional photographers like Pearl.

I’m Dean Elliott, Pearl’s poorly paid assistant and an unknown amateur photographer in my own right, who cares for, carries, cleans, maintains and sets up her equipment for her.

I cared for Pearl, too, once.

We rarely camp outside nowadays, unlike the simple early days of our working relationship. This trip means a comfortable hotel, and I rose well before dawn this morning, dressed in clothing much less smart than this hotel would normally tolerate, before setting out for the wetland hides.

Not only do I manhandle the photographic gear, I also edit and sort her photos for publication, I source international visas, book flights, accommodation, hire vehicles, pay bills and bank the proceeds of Pearl’s business. I’ve assisted Pearl for seven years.

Pearl originally considered me a friend and junior partner but increasingly she mostly treats me as her domestic servant. Lines that must never be crossed were drawn in the sand long ago. She benefits from our platonic relationship, while she worked her way through a string of eligible (and not so eligible) boyfriends until recently engaged to be married to the fabulously wealthy book publisher, Sebastian Brand.

Pearl was also from a privileged background and her wealthy father had indulged her photographic hobby, and paid for air fares and accommodation for the two or three years it took before her coffee table books were published and exhibitions of her photographs were shown and prints sold in art galleries.