Chapter 9

The change from one day to the next was very noticeable. It was only Walter Bodmer that was at the dinner but it was everything that they had expected the day before. Bodmer even addressed it right up front, apologising for the mix-up and the whole ‘talking at cross purposes’ aspect of the previous day’s meetings. He was engaging, charming and everything they expected from someone in his position at the Imperial Cancer Research Fund. He was also tactful enough not to immediately ask about the money, and how they had made it. Despite that being by far the most interesting unknown. Julian and Andrew were happy to take a step back from the limelight and to an extent they left Leslie to deal with him. Not exclusively but Leslie was going to be the face of this relationship and they were happy to sit quietly and let her and Dr. Bodmer talk. Now it didn’t stop them from being told off on the way home from the Savoy but to Andrew’s mind that was more Julian’s problem than his. Other than a few minutes where he had talked about his skin cancer and the precautions he had to take, Andrew had not really contributed to the talk round the dinner table.

After the excesses of the night before Jim and Freya were sticking strictly to tea and Andrew sat with them for a few minutes before heading back to Edinburgh. He was packed but Leslie was phaffing about in the guest room.

“Why is Leslie so upset at the two of you?”

Freya asked the question but only because she got there before Jim.

“Julian and I let her carry the conversation with Dr. Bodmer. She thought we should have been more involved or engaged but you know me, I feel that neither of them get sufficient credit for what we achieved so even although we didn’t plan it that way Julian and I rather sat back and let Leslie be the voice of the three of us, at least with this.”

Nothing else needed to be said, they knew what he was like and there was no point in rehashing old topics. They only had a few minutes so switched tack.

“When will you be back Andrew?”

“The New Year. If I may, I would like to stay here the week before term starts, for at least part of the week anyway. When to Moira and Lars get here?”

“The 28^th. They were here for Christmas last year but went to Reykjavík for New Year. This year it is the reverse, they will spend Christmas with his family and then be here for New Year.”

The last few minutes were of talk of the holidays, plans, visits, the usual run-up to the Christmas season. All three of them wished Jim and Freya a Merry Christmas before heading along to King’s Cross and the night sleeper. For Andrew it was a rare trip north on it, normally he used the sleeper for his southbound journeys. When they arrived at Waverly Station they shared a cab dropping Andrew off at the flat. He would see them the following week for the usual Trust meetings and would call at the weekend.

Judging by the pile of mail behind the door of the flat Suzanne had not been there since Andrew’s last stay, just as it looked like she had not been there between either of his previous visits. Suzanne had moved her stuff into the flat but clearly had not moved in herself. There was only one message on the phone but it was Tony, not Suzanne. When he called the Jenner house it got even weirder. Her mother answered the call and after the usual ‘how are you?’ was dealt with she broke the news.

“Suzanne is not here Andrew. She has stayed in the flat in Glasgow since the end of term. We don’t talk to her very much. She has kept away from us this term. Did the two of you have a fight? Is whatever the two of you are doing over?”

Mrs. Jenner tried not to sound too accusatory. She didn’t entirely succeed.

“No, nothing of the kind. I dropped her off at the flat on the Saturday before term started, got her settled in and then left. I was scheduled to be in Glasgow about a month later but I got a letter telling me that she had plans and it couldn’t happen. I was back here about a month ago, again Suzanne knew but she was not here. From the mail behind the door each time I visited it doesn’t look like she came here once. I haven’t spoken to her since that Saturday before the start of the year. Both letters were short just letting me know that our previously arranged plans were off. I usually write to her two or three times a term, nothing substantial just a chatty note about life in Cambridge but I have received nothing back. Whatever is up with her, it is not directly related to me.”

The unsettled silence followed by an audible sigh let Andrew know that he was the imagined culprit. That he was not to blame for her absence was more unsettling than re-assuring.

“I was blaming you, without evidence, but when has that ever stopped me. She says she is coming back next weekend for Christmas so I will just have to wait. It is upsetting, it is not like her and I am worried. Please let me know if she comes through to the flat.”

Andrew promised but his mind was elsewhere. Nothing about this made sense. The only thing he could think of was that she had met someone. Now not being in contact with her family seemed weird, and out of character, but keeping her distance from him, and Leslie as well he realised, that all pointed to someone else. All the talk about being mature, rationally talking about an expiration date, wanting to stay friends; at that moment it appeared to have been a mirage. Even although there was no one to talk to Andrew got out the flat. He walked round the Meadows, twice, thinking about Suzanne. The sense of loss was stark. What it said about him, about them, troubled him. However much he tried to rationalise things away he kept coming back to the feeling that he had taken Suzanne for granted, that he hadn’t committed to her. Now they had grown closer, and significantly closer, over the last couple of years but that cold December morning it did not help.

He really wasn’t in an upbeat or chatty mood, but Andrew had spoken to Tony on Monday from London and told him he would be back on Thursday. Tony’s message was confirmation that Andrew had several shoots lined up over the next four days. With Leslie still having his car Andrew showered and changed after the train journey then walked over to the shop. Just the atmosphere in the shop lifted him from his doldrums. It was 12 days before Christmas and the shop was much busier than usual for a Thursday lunchtime. Stacey and Tony were there as well as a guy around Andrew’s age, Christmas help he presumed. Tony was busy but between customers he had a chance for a quick word.

“The first lady will be here around 2.00 for a 2.30 shoot. I have left a bunch of my latest shoots out for you to look at. As soon as the lunch rush is over I will come up and we can chat. Good to see you by the way!”

Andrew smiled at Tony’s enthusiasm and just the vibe of the whole shop. He made some tea and toast and sat and started to leaf through the packets of prints. From one side of the camera to the other. There was a lot to take in as he looked through the six sets. The pictures were crisp and sharp, framed well without any visual distractions and every set had vast amounts of nudity. Four of the six were open legged and of them one of the sets had the woman playing with herself. The explicitness was getting more blatant. From the point of view of product to sell Andrew went and grabbed the first six magazines from a pile on the sideboard and looked through them. Now several of the photo sets were filmed in some exotic location, actually Andrew had no idea where they were filmed but it was hot and sandy, he just assumed exotic. But of the sets in the studio it looked there was a difference to what Tony had shot. Andrew spent quite a while just looking back and forth between the prints on the table and the different magazines in his hand. He was startled when Tony spoke, he hadn’t heard him come up the stairs or enter the room.

“There is something missing isn’t there?”

Andrew nodded.

“I think so, but I am not sure what it is. I am even wondering whether it is psychological or something, the pictures in these magazines must be better somehow, even if yours are just as good. But it feels like there is something missing.”

“Interesting. You have nothing planned for tonight?”

“No.”

“Good. I have booked her again, I wondered if you could shoot it. I would like to see the difference. She is booked from 6.00 until 10.00.”

Andrew looked at the model Tony indicated. She was early 20s with a soft fleshiness to her. Andrew looked through the set Tony had done thinking about how he would shoot it differently.”

“That is a good idea. There is no harm in trying it and seeing if there is something obvious. I will worry about her later. Tell me about the lady at 2.30?”

“Standard mum who has always wondered what it would be like to model. 32 I think, younger than Stacey or Elspeth, and her kids are under five. She is prepared to get down to underwear or lingerie but doesn’t want to go any further. And seems surprisingly relaxed, maybe because she knows there will be no nudity. A nice lady.”

And she was. And as Tony said Sheelagh was cheery and relaxed. She knew her limits and wasn’t going any further. As a result the shoot was free from nerves and was straightforward and easy to shoot. The lingerie Sheelagh had chosen was discreetly tightening across her tummy, she clearly had the same concerns as Stacey but had chosen what to wear accordingly. But she glammed it up, draped herself over the table, the couch, an armchair, she stood at the vanity in the bathroom set displaying a nice tight arse, Sheelagh totally got into the experience. For the shot for her frame Andrew used the pose at the vanity. The mirror was sufficiently tall that it caught her torso from the waist up as well as her face. Andrew worked with Sheelagh, worked to see what she looked like with her tummy sucked in, her shoulders back, and her arse tensed, as well as a wink on her face while looking at the camera. It took a fair few attempts for it to come together and look natural but Andrew took three shots and was sure that at least one of them would look great. The smile on her face was natural and the wink had a nice cheekiness to it. She had agreed that her husband would love the shot. The shoot was done early and she was gone by 4.20. She was laughing as she left when Andrew reminded her not to leave this present under the tree.

Andrew was pottering around the studio, tidying up and thinking about the shoot later with Roxanne, real name Jane Dumfries. He was hailed just before he was hugged.

“Andrew, good to see you.”

Andrew tried to turn but Elspeth’s breasts had him trapped. She loosened her hold and he was able to turn and chat to her. In contrast to what he had heard a month earlier Elspeth looked to have lost a fair bit of weight rather than gained it.

“I am well Elspeth. How are you? You are looking great.”

His remark hit home, Elspeth tried not to look pleased. And failed.

“No thanks to you. That husband of mine has me baking all the time now.”

They both laughed.

“The pictures were a success?”

Elspeth stopped and looked at Andrew.

“One answer is ‘of course’. Donnie loved them, loved that I came here and was that brave. So they were a complete success. But there are two other things. The first annoyed me when he told me, well annoyed me at first. You know that Stacey and I have been telling lots of our friends about doing our shoots. Now there have been some judgemental old bitches but most of them have been intrigued. Tony has shot one of them already and at least two more are seriously thinking about it. But Donnie talked to his mates about my coming here for a shoot. Now I know he was proud and was showing off with his mates but I didn’t need his work mates from knowing this. But then I got a call from the wives of two of them. You see the size of me Andrew, I am hardly standard model material, so when they heard from their husbands that I had done this they called me. Again, all sorts of hidden fantasies and if someone my size could do it then suddenly what were they waiting for. You have a shoot on Saturday morning with one of them. Same as Sheelagh today, a different Christmas present for her husband.”

Andrew listened with interest. He, as the photographer, never talked about the shoots except with Tony and Maggie, other than situations like this with Elspeth or Stacey. Whereas they, as the models, were considerably more open with people. And now Donnie had talked about it even more.

“I know that you don’t want everyone to know, but it is clear that Donnie was very pleased.”

“Once I calmed down and stopped shouting at him I realised that. And I was very surprised at the phone calls. But that is the second thing. He has asked me to do another shoot with you. In fact, he has talked about a new shoot being his valentine’s present every year. I don’t know for how many years I will do this but I would like you to do a Valentine’s Day shoot with me during the Christmas break.”

Andrew smiled widely and he realised that he was happier to shoot an overweight 30 something mother than he was to spend four hours staring at a blatantly naked 20 year old model. Which seemed very odd, even if it was true.

“I will be happy to. I should be free one afternoon next week. Are you still working here?”

“Four days a week from 1.00 until 4.00. I work at reception and do a lot of filing at the doctor’s practice in the mornings, then I come here and the filing I do in the afternoon is considerably more. I was going to say interesting but it is more than that. It is intriguing, curious, fascinating and half a dozen other things as well. It is like the Wizard of Oz, a glimpse behind the curtains.”

“How have you found using the computer, using the program?”

“It was pretty easy to learn and I must admit I thought it was a bit of a waste of time. But then Maggie showed me some of the reports and I was blown away. It is really good. One of the things it has been good for is where women have changed as they have got older, particularly if they started at 18. When we searched against real names we found a couple of sets where it wasn’t obvious at first it was the same woman. Her hair was longer, styled differently and dyed, but it was the same woman. I know it is silly but having done a shoot myself I feel like I am part of the same club.”

Elspeth shook her head. But Andrew knew what she meant. Her circumstance was completely different but she had experienced it. And very importantly, there was no judgement.

“Tony was telling me that you are going to shoot Roxanne this evening. It will be different than my shoot, that’s for sure.”

“Yes, but at the end of the day it is about the customer. The magazine, and ultimately the readers of it, want something, the more explicit the better. And the model knows that and is prepared to model to those limits. With the fantasy shoots the model and the customer are the same person. Stacey had a good experience, and so you decided to try it. You, and Donnie, enjoyed it so much that you are doing another shoot. Two of your friends have done shoots, I am going to shoot the wife of one of Donnie’s mates. But again it comes back to the customer. The model. I try to treat all the models with respect, help them get the most out of the experience. If I had been disrespectful to Stacey, whined and pushed for her to go further than she wanted then none of the other shoots would have happened. It will be the same tonight. Roxanne might be lying naked on the couch with her legs spread but I am still going to be professional and respectful with her. This is fulfilling people’s fantasies at one level, but it is a business and businesses with good reputations get repeat customers.”

“I don’t want this to sound as negative as it is going to but you don’t think less of them for being so explicit?”

Andrew thought about it for only a moment.

“No. Once you have shown some skin then it is degrees of outrage from society. Within your social circle you are no different than a Page 3 girl. You let a man photograph you topless. Now the pictures are for you and your husband not The Sun, but it is no different. From there it is if there is some kind of hierarchy of naughtiness, from topless to what Roxanne does to well beyond that. Look at Roxanne, she is a nude model and is prepared to be shot the way she is. If she told people that she was a nude model without showing them any pictures most people would judge her immediately. Like I said, her degree of naughtiness is much greater than yours but you are both still naughty.”

Elspeth look a little taken aback at Andrew calling her this but then a wicked smile came over her face.

“I hadn’t thought of it that way. But you are right. All those judgemental cows in Mass on Sunday; it wouldn’t be naughty they would be calling me it would be a lot worse.”

She giggled, seemingly not upset after all.

Within minutes of Andrew meeting Jane Dumfries, Roxanne the model, he realised that she was dumb as a bag of rocks. A nice cheery soul with a nice, almost naïve demeanour, but she was not smart. She was the classic big-titted girl from high school that was going to get through life using her tits and arse. And she was unapologetic about it. She had dreams of London, becoming famous and marrying someone equally famous. She did not yet have a hard edge to her, refreshingly unjaded.

What Andrew had experienced in Paris was not a frantic or frenetic shoot, but it had moved forward with a purpose. There were so many clothing changes that there had been a relentlessness to it. And Andrew must have subconsciously picked up on that because that evening he got through a lot. The other thing that he had watched the previous weekend was accessories. A bracelet, a headband, a necklace, they all changed the shoot, most often complemented the clothes, sometimes jarred against them. He had Roxanne start completely naked which surprised her but she accepted without issue. The first set used the dining room. Andrew had Roxanne lie on the table and he shot her in various poses. Then he had her lie back with her feet at the corners, legs spread while he set a dinner place between her legs. He shot that first with just her but then dragooned Tony to sit at the head of the table, his back to the camera. Rummaging around in their kitchen upstairs Andrew had found a carrot, a cucumber and an aubergine. Each was placed on Tony’s plate, pointed phallicly right at Roxanne. Finally he really went for it.