Game. Justine Elyot

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ that there will be another model in some of the photographs?

      ‘Yes. You don’t need to bring anything, by the way. I’ve a full wardrobe of costumes and props and I’ll do make-up here. So, two o’clock then?’

      ‘Yeah. Great.’ I put the phone down, and then I can’t prevent myself calling Lloyd. ‘Lloyd!’

      He chuckles down the phone at me. ‘You got it then?’

      ‘What the fuck does she mean? “We’ll do the solo shots first”? What does that mean? What else did you tell her to do?’

      ‘Wait and see.’

      ‘I think, as my agent, you should keep me in the loop.’

      ‘I think, as the orchestrator of the challenge, I should make this as hard for you as I can. Ah, why did I say that? “Hard for you.” I think I am. Thinking about what’s going to happen –’

      ‘Which is?’

      ‘As I said before –’

      ‘Oh, don’t bother.’ I hang up.

      I look at the clock. Eleven fifteen. Am I going to do this?

      Yes, I am. Failure is not an option.

      I think about changing for the appointment, but in the end I turn up in the chichi Chelsea courtyard in the same charcoal-grey skirt suit I wore to work. At least Sasha Margetts will see that I am not some Botoxed bimbo but a bona fide businesswoman who doesn’t get messed around.

      Though I suspect I might get messed up.

      The door is answered by a smiling woman in her forties, casually but expensively dressed, giving every impression of a model-turned-photographer. In fact, I think I vaguely recognise her.

      ‘Yes, yes,’ she laughs, responding to my quizzical frown. ‘Sash Derby as was. That’s me.’

      ‘Oh God. It is you, isn’t it? I remember those perfume adverts you did.’

      We climb a staircase, quoting in unison the corny line she had had to speak.

      ‘I know, dreadful, weren’t they?’ she says, ushering me into a vast white studio space, lined and surrounded with clothes racks and storage units. ‘I much prefer what I do now. No more pouting and trying to look mysterious. Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean …’

      ‘It’s fine. I’m not really a model. I’m a hotelier.’

      ‘Oh? But you want to break into the scene, your agent said.’ She stands over by a small sink unit and waves a kettle at me. ‘Tea? Coffee? Or sometimes my models need a tot of something stronger, just to dispel the nerves.’

      ‘He said that, did he? Oh, tea’s fine. White, no sugar.’

      ‘Isn’t it true?’

      ‘Oh, if he says it is, I’m sure it is.’ I’m skirting close to a fail, I think. I have to go with the flow. She has been given a story, and it’s my job to stick to it. ‘The hotel’s great, but I’m looking for something on the side. Where I can express myself.’

      ‘That’s terrific. That’s what we need to discuss. How do we best express you, your personality and your individuality, through the medium of my camera?’

      Stumped, I look for inspiration amongst the portraits on the wall. Most are innocuous enough – beautiful girls in cashmere wraps or naked but for jewellery. Until you look at their faces. Rapt, caught in another world, another state of being. Their vulnerability is shocking and arousing.

      ‘Seems to me,’ I say, trying not to let my voice tremble, ‘that I won’t get much choice in that. One’s face does what it does at that crucial moment.’

      ‘Yes, you can’t fake it.’ Sash appears at my shoulder, inspecting her work along with me. ‘It’s a moment when you are nothing but yourself. The masks peeled off, the face metaphorically bare.’

      ‘That’s a strangely frightening thought.’

      She puts her hand on my shoulder. I’m not tactile, outside the bedroom, and I flinch a little.

      ‘You’re not the first person to think so. Come on. Sit down and we’ll talk about your needs.’

      I take my tea and perch on her white leather sofa. ‘Didn’t Lloyd give you any idea of what was wanted?’

      She laughs. ‘Oh yes, he did. But I’m starting with you. You’re the girl in the picture. What are you getting out of this?’

       A win. I’m getting to win.

      ‘I’m getting to represent myself as what I am.’

      ‘Which is?’

      ‘An insatiable whore.’

      She is taken aback. For a moment, all she can do is stare at me.

      ‘Sorry not to put it more delicately,’ I say. ‘I suppose people generally say that they want to express their flowering sexuality or their empowering femininity or whatever. But I don’t dress it up. I’m not a flowery feminine sexually empowered blah-de-blah. I’m an insatiable whore. That’s what you’ll see. That’s what you’ll get.’

      Sash sips at her tea.

      ‘Oh,’ she says. ‘You sound a little bit angry. Are you sure you want to do this?’

      ‘I’m only angry because people don’t like insatiable whores. Well, they do really, but they won’t admit it, so we get bad press. It’s not fair, is it?’

      ‘I suppose not. So, when we pick props you want something fairly full-on? Aggressively sexual, almost?’

      ‘Yeah.’ I think of Lloyd looking at the photos, knowing that I hate standing behind a camera. I want him to know how I feel about it. ‘Aggressively sexual. That hits my spot.’

      ‘That’s a powerful concept. We could build some strong images around it. You’re a woman in charge of your sexuality, using it freely, without guilt. Actually, I can really work with that.’ Sasha’s face lights up. ‘This could be a wonderful set. Come and pick some props.’

      Sasha has every type of luxe fabric and body decoration imaginable. I run my fingers through marabou and faux fur and lace and ropes of pearls. In another box, she has her kinky stuff. It looks tempting, but I’m not going to be tied up or trussed for this shoot. I’m going to be free.

      ‘I don’t want props,’ I decide. ‘Maybe just that chair. Just me, in the buff, on a chair. Keep it simple, yeah?’

      ‘I think simplicity will be the key to this set. It’s all about you and your attitude. Are you ready? Do you want to take off your clothes now?’

      I distract her while I strip off my business suit by talking about the make and model of her camera. I want her to know that I know my stuff. I want her to know what she is dealing with.

      By СКАЧАТЬ