Living Two Lives - Book 14

Chapter 1

Andrew was in a fabulous mood that Sunday. He was up early and swam for an hour, enjoying the physical pleasure and not worrying about anything. The library was quiet at that early hour as he found his usual corner and worked away. There were only a week and a half of classes left, Cambridge weeks end on a Wednesday, and Andrew was in good shape across his courses. He was pleased as this had been an Electrical heavy term and it was his least favourite part of engineering. Next term was similarly heavily concentrated on Civil and he was looking forward to it. Andrew flipped between three tasks that afternoon. Reviewing his notes and getting ready for the following week were the constant, but he was also reviewing a bunch of proposals and reports that Morag had sent down to him. With the modelling news the previous weekend on top of the OTC he was a week behind in his reading but having things in manageable tranches was helping him not feel overwhelmed by the business. The reports on existing investments were straightforward. Leslie attached a one page summary and most were doing okay or it was too early to tell. She attached the relevant reports but Andrew did not bother reading them. What was the point in second guessing her? The proposals that made it to him were getting to be of a higher quality and most did not have any of the obvious flaws of the ones from a year earlier. He could see the challenge being to decide which they chose to invest in, given that they were all better written and with clear and measurable objectives, compared to some of their early investments. Something to talk to Leslie and Julian about on his upcoming weekend in Edinburgh. The final task was catching up on his letters. The letters to his mother were becoming less and less frequent. And when he did write the letter was often nothing but mindless waffle. What to do about Christmas was looming large. Andrew also wrote to Suzanne reminding her that he would be back up in Edinburgh the following weekend and that he missed her and wanted to see her. Her silence was baffling, there had been no letters, but she wanted to live her life, and have the freedom from Andrew to do it, and so he had to accept and respect that. Given his activities the previous night and probably that coming night Andrew was in no position to judge, but she was his friend first and he wondered what was going on. The next two notes were to Pete reminding him about the coming Friday and to Jim and Freya confirming he would be at the flat round about lunchtime on the Saturday after term finished for the weekend. The OTC winter formal event was on the Friday night so it would not be an early start the next morning. It was the drunkest Andrew had been in 1^st year but at least this year it was not back to back with the hockey team event.

Finally Andrew wrote to Heloise confirming he was going to shoot the commercial with her. What he really wanted to do was sit down and have a chat with her, talk through the whole process, lean on her experience. But as always in these times it was easier said than done. Andrew sent a letter to her, not knowing if she was even at her flat or was away somewhere, explaining that late afternoon Sunday was the best time to try and coordinate a call. After that it was a painful iterative process of trying to align schedules to get to the point where they could talk on the phone. Oh, and on top of all that, it was extremely expensive to call long distance and especially internationally. But his letter was off to Heloise and he would have to wait to see what happened.

The call to his Grandma was short and sweet, just a two minute ‘how are you?’ call. He told her he would see her the following Sunday and was informed that he was to accompany her to church not ‘loiter outside’. That was him told. She might have been physically more frail but her mind and tongue were as sharp as ever. The call to Maggie and Tony was equally short, he would call them at some point and go and see them. But until he got to Edinburgh and had a chance to spend time with Suzanne he didn’t know exactly when. His last call was to Manon. Phillippe, who answered the phone, quickly wrote the number of the payphone at the library down and then called Andrew back. They had two or three minutes of catching up, he was a serious bloke but he and Manon together worked well. The conversation between the two of them ended to the sounds of whacks being administered to him by his fiancé and his laughter as he handed the phone to her.

“Awful man, I don’t know why I love him.”

Someone had been keen to get to the phone and talk about this upcoming venture.

“I bet he is sitting there looking all sad with puppy dog eyes. When you get off the phone you are going to have to make it up to him.”

“Andrew! Don’t give him any ideas. You are worse than he is!”

Some people you just click with and Manon and Phillippe firmly fell into that category. They were nice and all that sort of thing but over the years Andrew have seen it so many times. There are people where it was effortless, people such as Manon and Phillippe who he only saw occasionally, where there were no awkward pauses or painful idle chat. And then there are others, sadly much more prevalent, where it was by rote, it was a chore and how ever hard you tried it never got past being superficial. Maybe it is the nature of human interaction and the differences between people, but when you fall back into a comfortable rhythm with someone it starkly highlights how rare those circumstances were. That day was going to be an expensive phone bill for Manon. She wanted to talk even more than Andrew and filled him in on a lot of the background that they hadn’t covered the previous Sunday.

“Perfume and cologne are very recent additions for Hermès Andrew. They want to define them as Hermès, while at the same time make them different than the fashion lines. That is why they are going to try this. That Heloise has agreed to this is the key. She is a fixture in the fashion pages but this is something new for her. We decided to use Camille and Joelle again too.”

They were the other two models from the shoot in March.

“Joelle will be fine but we will have to see how you and Camille look together on film. She is small and they may want someone taller. So, when can you do this?”

“The week of December 3^rd is free, I can’t do the week of the 10^th and I suppose I could do the week before Christmas but would prefer not to. I can also do the week of January 7^th but that is the last until Easter, classes start the following week.”

“Good, I know that the first week of December works with Heloise, well at least the end of the week. You would be okay working over the weekend?”

Shrugging is not an effect method of communication on the phone.

“Sure. But I need to be in London on the Monday, the 10^th.”

“Andrew, do you think you will be able to cope, to do it?”

“I have thought about that a lot Manon, it is a risk. Heloise is the star and I presume she will go first in all the shooting, but remember the photoshoot, they were about to scrap the whole thing. It was the chemistry between Heloise and I that saved it. I think we have to shoot her commercial first, once I am surer of what is expected then I think I should be okay. But I am not a professional model, and definitely not an actor. The production company, and especially whoever is directing this, need to remember that. There was an awful lot of ‘non, non, non’ last time. I will be trying my best but someone being an arse is not going to work.”

The silence at the other end of the line was telling. And unnerving.

“Okay.”

Long, drawn out, conveying the exact opposite of the word.

“It is the risk of using someone as unskilled as me Manon.”

A sigh.

“Yes, we know. But it was the only way to get Heloise to participate.”

Well wasn’t that an interesting titbit?

“I don’t mean that to sound so negative Andrew, but even although there is no dialogue it would make sense to have someone more experienced. No matter, you are the chosen male model and we will work with you to make this a great shoot.”

There was nothing really to say to that. It was the truth. Andrew might have the body they were after but he was hardly alone in the world of modelling. Even his height was not unique. In the end it came back to the chemistry between Heloise and him. Andrew told Manon he would call her the following Sunday to see if there were any updates.

His bright mood from earlier in the day had dissipated and Andrew was pensive for the rest of the day, he was glad that his studying was done because he was distracted by the thought of the commercial shoot. Andrew really hoped he would at least be adequate enough for the commercial to work. The previous week he had been sufficiently self-absorbed to completely miss the fact that he was the amateur in this production and was perceived as the weak link. It was a sobering thought.

Fortunately Abi was not worried about such angst. Abi had fallen in a vat of filth and was rolling around in it. She was just a bundle of turned on sexiness and it was fascinating to see the change that one week had brought about. There was a level of desire and frankly a level of engagement that was new. Andrew just lapped it up, literally. Their first fuck was a race to the finish, barely one step up from frantic rutting. Once the condom was disposed of and Abi was resting along him he let her talk it out.

“Andrew, even if they don’t let me watch the shoot will you let me come to Paris with you? I can’t explain it, I really can’t. The last three nights I have lain in bed just thinking about being one of the models. It is such an intoxicating fantasy.”

She lifted her head and smiled at him.

“I wish I had the nerve like you do, to go through with it. But it is my head versus my heart.”

She giggled.

“Well probably lower than my heart but I know that I won’t do it. I am my mother’s daughter and she only modelled in swimsuits, not like you are going to.”

A big sigh.

“I am glad that I can talk about this fantasy with you, that just being with you stokes that desire to show myself off.”

It was a night of alternating between sighs and giggles. It was time for a giggle.

“Listen to me. I have moaned about being so pretty, get fed up with boys sniffing around all the time and yet here is me dreaming of walking around at a photoshoot with nothing on. You are a bad influence Andrew McLeod.”

This last was punctuated with a long slow passionate kiss.

“Close your eyes for me Abi. Let me transport you to Paris.”

Andrew slid Abi off him so that she was lying on her stomach. She had closed her eyes.

“We are lying in bed on the set. There are more than 20 people walking about, make-up, cameras, lighting, various hangers on. Then it is all quiet and they are all watching us. I am lying beside you, a single sheet pulled up, hiding us.”

Andrew pulled the sheet so that Abi could feel it on her legs and back.

“You can feel your heart beating faster. You can’t wait for the moment yet you dread it at the same time. I am kissing your shoulder, your neck. My hands caressing and desiring your body, feeling the soft, feminine curves of your arse. The camera catches sight of my hand as it so obviously caresses you beneath the sheet. There is nothing faked, this is capturing desire, sexual attraction.”

Andrew let his hand and lips do as his words said.

“Suddenly I am slipping out of the bed, totally naked, just like you are under the sheet. I walk confidently over to the counter and stand there, looking in the mirror. The camera is catching both the reflection of my face in the mirror as well as the full length of my naked body standing in front of the counter.”

Andrew had slipped out of the bed and was now at the little sink in his room.

“You know you have to look at me, there is a camera looking past me back to the bed, to capture my lover’s reaction. You look up, your heart is going to burst out of your chest it is beating so fast yet you can feel your desire leaking from you, you are so turned on.”

Andrew went off script for a second and put a new condom on his straining dick.

“It is now or never. Your lover stands at the counter waiting for you, his new intoxicating cologne freshly applied. What will you do? Slide out from under the sheet and walk across the room to jump into his arms? Remain frozen, unable to move? Or will you throw back the sheet and run across the room, your beautiful, full breasts bouncing around, before devouring him in a passionate embrace.”

The silence and stillness was only for a second or two but they stretched out across the room. But then Andrew’s friend, his lover, she made it her own. Abi threw the sheet back, rolled onto her back and stretched, before climbing from the bed. But halfway to him she stopped and looked over her shoulder before advancing upon him.

The fantasy shattered as Abi hauled him back to bed and demanded that he fuck her. And that is all she said for the next few minutes. ‘Fuck me’ over and over again. Again this kind of fantasy as foreplay is not conducive to a long, controlled fuck. When Andrew came the world swam for a second and he struggled to hold himself off Abi. Flopping onto his back, he managed to get the condom off but dropped it onto the floor to be dealt with later. They lay side by side for a long time, letting heart rates settle and giving their minds time to process what they had just played out.

“Helena said you were the devil and now I finally understand what she meant. I had my eyes closed and I could imagine it exactly as you said, having my arse felt with everyone watching, I could imagine you at the counter, brazen and showing off, that long lean body just waiting for me.”

She shook her head.

“And then you called me out. Would I chicken or would I show the world my body? Come on, sit up with your back against the wall.”

As Andrew levered himself into a sitting position, Abi had him in hand and shortly thereafter he was safely covered. As Abi lowered herself onto Andrew she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Hold me Andrew please, just hold me.”

They fucked enough that he stayed erect and they remained joined but not really actively doing anything. This was about closeness. In the end neither of them came and after a brief bathroom routine, always an adventure when you share facilities, they were lying back in bed. There was no further talk, not that night, but Andrew knew that it was merely postponed. Unusually Abi was draped over him as if she was trying to get as much skin to skin contact as possible. His last memory before sleep claimed him was of her blonde hair on his shoulder, her arm flung across him as if pinning him down.

Unlike the previous day Andrew thought a lot about Abi as he swam. They didn’t have time for a long chat until Wednesday but he was surprised at her strong reaction to the modelling fantasy. She was about as different to Elspeth or Stacey as it was possible to be, and yet had demonstrated that the fantasy of being a model was much more common than Andrew had guessed. After his usual quick bowl of soup at the café he was back at his room just before 8.00. Abi was ready to go to Hall for breakfast, she must have gone back to her room to shower and change but was back sitting there in his room ready. She really must want to talk.

“I just wanted to thank you for last night Andrew. You know how to create an image and it was worryingly perfect. I won’t bug you tonight or tomorrow but I would like to chat with you on Wednesday after dinner, okay?”

“Sure, it will give me time to take my vitamins.”

They both laughed as they entered Hall and joined Malcolm and Matt as normal. Andrew’s classes, labs and supervisions continued to go well. He was less frantic in his studying and more confident in himself and the material. That didn’t stop him putting in his usual full days but the truth was he found the course manageable that term. In fact of the four years at Cambridge, 2^nd year was, by far, the most relaxed.

The time at Addenbrooke’s flew by as usual and he was able to engage with a couple more of the patients. Andrew and two of the patients spent a few minutes chatting away. Nothing very deep or profound but he made them laugh talking about, of all things it was entitled Amy that made them laugh. Andrew was recounting in an exaggerated manner her persistent attempts to get him to go out with her. The two of them, they were both boys, totally related to the concept of the girl who thinks she is doing you a favour. Small steps. Hey, Amy did something good that term, without even knowing it.

The biggest change at the OTC was Jack and his behaviour. The Art College student Karen who he had danced with a couple of times, and rescued from wandering hands that one night, well she had actually fallen for his bullshit. And what is even more amazing is that he stopped being an arse and chasing everything in a skirt. The first steady girlfriend of the four of them and it was Jack. Rollie, Matt and Andrew were confounded. As for the military side of it, they found it straightforward. That term was easy, the next term had three or four full weekends where the new cadets had to demonstrate their abilities in military field craft. It was also the chance for them, the Junior and Senior Under Officers, to demonstrate their leadership. Early in third term they would have a weekend exercise at the centre where they would plan and present a set of attack orders to the Permanent Staff. This was the key test for the JUOs and if they passed would allow them to be promoted to Senior UO. But that was all to come. There was only one parade after that one and everyone was more concerned about the Winter Formal than anything else. Andrew would be excited too if it was not nearly 90% men and the objective of the night was to drown in a sea of alcohol.

Abi sat with Andrew at dinner on Wednesday evening and then they both went and grabbed jackets and hats so that they could walk and talk. Abi didn’t need to go far, they circled the perimeter of the South Paddock multiple times as they talked through the last couple of weeks.

“So, as you can imagine, I have done a fair bit of thinking about my reaction to your modelling and then my even more extreme reaction to your game. If that was my personality, wanting to be the centre of attention, loving having lots of men around me, then it would be understandable. What has confused the hell out of me is this crazy reaction when I know that I am quite shy, and would prefer 90% less attention from people. Why does the thought of posing naked in a commercial with you get me so turned on?”

Andrew waited to see if it was rhetorical but Abi looked up at him expecting a reply.

“Is it modelling generally, or is it with me in particular?”

A thoughtful contemplation.

“The fantasies are all with you in them. It is not modelling per se, it is modelling with you.”

She looked up at him.

“Oh.”

Exactly. Andrew had no idea what it meant but it was clearly significant.

“Trust and safety Abi, that’s all it is. This is a fantasy and it is particularly vivid right now because of the upcoming trip to Paris. But this is the inner exhibitionist you are showing off for a lover. You trust me and feel safe with me so you can let your, admittedly filthy, imagination run riot.”

Abi giggled on cue.

“It is one of those dark suppressed desires but it is also great fantasy fodder, something that we can play out, imagine at the moment, but it is not something that you could do. That is the thing with all these show biz magazines, fashion magazines. It lets you peek at other people. But just as I could not play football for Scotland, you cannot brazenly walk across a crowded studio naked. But did it stop me pretending in the park when I was younger that I was scoring the winning goal against England?”

She stuck her tongue on cue as well.

“No. But I also realised that I do not have the ability for that to happen. This is the same. How does that sound?”

Andrew could see Abi working to poke holes in what he had just said.

“This is going to sound terrible Andrew and you know I am not like this. The only flaw in your analogy is that I do have the talent. I am pretty and look good naked, at least based on your reaction.”

They both laughed.

“Is all I am missing bravery? Nerve?”

“Nah, I don’t think it is that simple. We have talked about the double standard. Say this was a masquerade ball scene, we all had those silly little masks on, then maybe it comes down to nerve. But this is very naked, people would know it is you. For a woman, it becomes defining, limiting and that is before you deal with even more blokes approaching you in the street but this time they know what your tits and arse look like. It is not going to happen. It comes down to power and choices. You have choices in your life and the publicity machine has no power over you. Heloise talked about some of the things that she had to do, some of the clothes she had to wear. Sheer tops, clothes with strategic gaps to expose her tits, stuff like that. I want to talk to her about why she is okay with this current shoot, blatant nudity as opposed to a by-product of the clothes.

“I am being overly blasé about showing my arse to the world but the truth is nobody cares. Is it going to stop me getting a job as an engineer working for a construction company? No. We talked about it last week, jealousy and some mickey taking but it is not like anyone is going to care. If people saw photos of your tits and arse then it is completely different. It is the way the world is. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t have wonderful, fun, filthy fantasies about it.”

Abi pulled him down for a kiss.

“Abi, we could do the shoot if you wanted.”

She looked at him.

“We just talked about this Andrew.”

He had to work to phrase the next part carefully.

“When I was at school I worked in a camera shop part time, mostly Saturdays, to earn some money. I still pop in when I am back in Edinburgh. Tony lets me use the darkroom if I need to develop any rolls of film. When I was back in the summer we were chatting one day and he mentioned that he had started to do what he called fantasy shoots. For women that had always wondered what it would be like to be a model but didn’t want anything to do with it. He and his wife to be set up a private photo shoot and take pictures of the women posing as a model.”

“Oh my god. Did you see any pictures?”

Andrew shook his head.

“No. That is the thing. He returns all the negatives to the woman. This is a chance for the woman to live out her fantasy in a safe controlled environment. He says there is a steady trickle of women doing it. Some don’t even get down to their lingerie and others are happy being more adventurous. It is totally up to the woman. So I am a reasonable photographer and we could book a studio and recreate something if you wanted. You would keep the roll of film, we would develop it together, you would have all the prints. There would be no evidence anywhere that it had happened but we would know.”

Andrew tapped Abi’s temple.

“Think about it.”

He turned and walked back towards the College. After a stunned two second pause Abi rushed up to him.

“We could really do it?”

“From a photographic point of view, yes. I know how to develop film and so working through all that is just time and a little bit of money. What you have to think about is what really appeals to you. Is it the fashion, does it have to be a real photoshoot? Is it the nudity? Or is it the audience, both immediate and long term? We can do a photoshoot with nudity with as many people as you want, friends, strangers, male, female. All of that is possible. But it won’t ever be shown and it won’t be real. I could make you a glossy photo album but it won’t be Vogue.”

Abi walked beside him but her mind was miles away. When they got back to his room she looked at Andrew with a huge smile and shook her head. Suddenly she seemed to be blinking away tears.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, nothing’s wrong Andrew. It is you. Here I am, a complete mess, all mixed up and you do this nice job of calming me down but then at the end you just short the circuits of my brain with this idea of a photoshoot. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world. And it is all for me, it just got to me. You are such a good friend.”

She was never down for long.

“Or maybe you just want to see me naked again.”

“Why Abigail, you naughty young lady, to think that all I wanted was to see you naked.”

Andrew’s pious words were undone as quickly as Abi’s buttons. Aided it had to be said by the victim. Holding his arm she kicked off her jeans and panties to stand naked in front of him.

“It is the burden of friendship that I bear, however difficult it is for me.”

“Don’t you mean hard?”

Andrew’s clothes went flying as Abi went over to the bed. But it was the same position as at the end on Sunday night. Seated, leaning against the wall, lots of kissing but also relentless fucking. After clean-up they lay in their usual position, Abi with a rueful smile on her face.

“In some ways it was better not to know that it could happen. Now you have posed these additional questions and I don’t know.”

“Well there is no rush. I have booked a studio before for something similar and most studios have a darkroom that you can use. The practicalities are easy, it is you, what you want, what you need to get out of this process that is key.”

“You have done this before?”

Andrew steered clear of his current involvement and instead explained about June and her desire to be in front of the camera, to have the spotlight on her.

“So she wanted to be a nude model?”

“It was a way to have everyone look at her. June wanted to be a star, the centre of attention. She was intelligent, very clever, she had a good eye as a photographer, she designed her own clothes. She was a very accomplished young woman. But none of it mattered as much as the lights, the stage, the centre of attention. We were both 17 when I did the photoshoot with her. She was naked for big parts of it, but I shot it carefully. And the interesting thing was the reality was very different to what she imagined. When we were there it all suddenly became very real and she was much more reticent than she had been suggesting she was going to be in the run up to the shoot. She got cold feet, and that was okay. She thought it would be one thing and it turned out to be very different. She tried modelling and realised that she would be much happier behind the camera.”

“But you booked a studio?”

Again there was going to be some careful phrasing.

“Yes. It is the only time I have ever booked a studio.”

As opposed to someone else booking it and Andrew just using it.

“Why did you do it?”

“She wanted it, it was important to her. And June had been a huge help at a wedding ceremony that I shot that summer. It was a thank you to her as well.”

“You shot a wedding?”

“Yes. Well technically a commitment ceremony, rather than a wedding.”

“What is that?”

“I am friends with two women who are unable to marry. So in the gay and lesbian community they have commitment ceremonies. Just like a wedding, they stood up in front of their friends, professed their love for each other, agreed to forsake all others until death and exchanged rings. But it is not legal.”

Abi looked at Andrew as if he had three heads.

“Just when I think you can’t confound me any more you announce that. Why have you never talked about it?”

“It is divisive, people get really bent out of shape about such things, especially religious types. I don’t hide at, as I have just shown, but I don’t shout it from the rooftops. But it makes me angry, that is why I am mean and unkind about organised religion.”

Most of Andrew’s friends knew that he was grumpy about religion and didn’t hide his disdain. He never espoused his anti-religion views, but would not tolerate any bullshit ‘because the church tells us’. Abi leaned up and kissed him.

“Relax, I don’t care and you know I am not religious. Thank you for telling me about them. It is not just men that hit on me you know. I have had several offers from women as well. When it comes to attracting attention I have no prejudices.”

Andrew kissed her back and they both laughed and relaxed.

“I could feel your body getting tense and angry, and not in the way that we both enjoy. Let’s deal with that much later, like next term. So what I need to figure out is whether I want to do a shoot, and if so whether anyone else is going to be there, other than you?”

“I think the first thing is way more important than the second and my guess is that it would just be the two of us. But it really is up to you. I am not going to mention it again. Is there anyone that you can talk to about this?”

Abi shook her head.

“I don’t want it even suggested at College. The only realistic person is Mum.”

“So go and see her. I am off to Edinburgh on Friday and won’t be back until Monday morning. Why don’t you go home and talk it through with your mum?”

“Would you be okay with me being honest with her. About us, about the shoot, everything?”

Andrew paused.

“Sure. We are 19, it is not as if she is going to pull you from Trinity over this. Try not to make her mad at me okay? Leading my innocent little angel astray and all that crap.”

Abi smiled and kissed him.

“What about Paris?”

“I am going to do the shoot in Paris at the end of the first week of December. I would like you to come to Paris with me, and I am going to talk to Manon on Sunday to see if you can come to the shoot. If you stand at the back I don’t see how it could be a big deal. Maybe Heloise will want as few people as possible there, I don’t know. If I get a letter with a number then I am going to call her as well on Sunday.

Whatever else this whole modelling thing had done, it had invigorated their fucking. Abi’s energies were not being split or sidetracked. Until after Paris Andrew had her undivided attention. As always, it was better for him when his partner was into it as much as he was. In the last 10 days Abi had shown much more outward passion and their fucking was better for it. It took Andrew a long time to realise the importance of that.

Once again they fell asleep, Abi draped over him. Hmmm.

 

Chapter 2

The next morning as Andrew swam he tried to focus on something other than the upcoming commercial, and on him and Abi, but it was difficult. She was exploring and defining her sexuality just like Suzanne was. In a totally different way but the comparison held. Andrew? He was the lucky guy that reaped the benefit while they were on this journey. The comparison between Lily and Abi was interesting. Even if Lily was working out her sexual personality there was no discussion about it. She knew what she wanted right at that moment and Andrew was one of the people that provided it. Transactional, consensual and plain fucking. No emotions and no pretence, a woman further along the continuum. Abi was still in the early stages, dealing with her innate personality and her bad experiences. Andrew had no idea where all this was going and the coming two months would be an interesting time. And a recurring dilemma that Lily, and Abi, and Maggie, were all dealing with was perception, and making sure they were not judged or labelled.

Lily’s external persona was on display Thursday night at the Art College, quiet and shy. This was the penultimate session and already there were a couple of people not there, finished with their work. The final session had less than half the number of people from the start of the term. Andrew declined the offer of a drink and just headed back to Trinity.

Andrew was at the station in plenty of time for the first stage of his journey, to London. And the train to Edinburgh left King’s Cross on time, but with him sprinting to make it. The Cambridge train had sat outside the station for 10 frustrating minutes before finally pulling into the station. Andrew only had a minute to change platforms and made it with mere seconds to spare. First Class was at the front of the train, he could have jumped on at any point but stood inside the door, catching his breath before moving into the carriage and finding his seat. As expected the conductor was there before his arse hit the cushion.

“This is first class.”

Normally Andrew just showed them the ticket and after much scrutiny they went away. Today, he was not thinking nice thoughts about British Rail having nearly missed the train.

“I know.”

He probably didn’t need to snarl.

“Show me your ticket. This is first class.”

Andrew slowly stood up, just a little too close to him for his comfort, invading his space, forcing him to take a step back. Andrew pulled the ticket from his back pocket and threw it down on the table. He didn’t sit back down and made no other move. After the conductor checked the ticket, thoroughly, he handed it back to Andrew without a word and left. Only then did he sit back down. Letting out a deep breath he calmed down. He very rarely played the bully, used his height, voice and short hair in an intimidating manner. But British Rail conductors reminded him of the parents of his youth, he was guilty before the conversations started. Fuck them.

Feeling better Andrew finally relaxed into his seat and contemplated life. Normally his default mode for train travel was studying but he was caught up on all his classes, had read what little there was left to cover this term and even he couldn’t face starting on the term two reading already. It was too soon after his last review of the plan and goals and so he left them alone as well.

What Andrew thought about that late autumn day was confidence and leadership. A year ago these were his concerns, interacting with other people, being able to lead other people with that lightness of touch that Pete had always shown. Now, more than a year later, he thought about all that again. It was almost a surprise how comfortable he felt. It was as if this had sneaked up on him. OTC was easy so far that year, Andrew was a competent soldier so that was hardly a surprise. What was surprising was the ease and comfort that he felt with the leadership role he was training for. The weekend at Stanford had been painless, it brought back memories of school and tutoring. Planning an exercise, the key task for term three, was very much in his comfort zone. He would have to work on the actual tactics, making the right military decision but planning something out, writing up a set of orders, thinking through all the elements of an attack, positioning, coordination, communication. This was second nature to him. Not only was it inherently something he was good at, it was something Andrew had a lot of experience of, and as an engineer it was something he was being taught about.

But it was more than that. The whole year Andrew had felt like a student at last. A teenage university student, away from home. With him you had to qualify these things. There were mildly drunken discussions and card games. There had been a lot more time spent just hanging out, enjoying the company of friends. Often on Wednesdays they would loiter over dinner. Little things like that were so different to his first year. Andrew was structured and disciplined but was also more confident in his own ability. If anything he was working less hard than the previous year, yet was getting excellent grades in his labs and had no issues with any of his supervisions. Andrew had used the analogy of trying too hard many times across many situations but as he sat on the train watching his reflection in the carriage window, he realised that he was not trying too hard this year, less angst filled worry, less teenage bullshit. Andrew was comfortable with who he was, doing well at the course and at the OTC. His volunteering was still a work in progress but it was always going to be that way. There was no continuity, it was the nature of the ward and so there was a constant need to introduce himself, always a fresh sceptical face wondering why he was there. And the modelling was. Andrew stopped and thought. What was the modelling? Fun? That was too much of a stretch. It allowed him to study uninterrupted for three hours but even then it wasn’t like he couldn’t do that in the Department, his room or the Library. Was it the karmic price to pay for the other opportunities? Professor Wilkins said they were always looking for models, but it was not as if there were none. Andrew was just different to the normal art school models. The more he thought about it the more he was confused. Was he just like Abi, a suppressed exhibitionist? He had chipped away at some of that suppression and was now doing this. He wasn’t sure. He did not need to do it, and was not being paid for it. Was it swimming that made him so unselfconscious of his body? At some point he no longer cared that people ogled him. But it was tied back to his confidence. It was one more thing that he was comfortable with, one more thing that he was confident doing.

Even the commercial where he would be naked in front of a lot of different men and women, Andrew wasn’t worried about that. He was worried that his actions, reactions, facial expressions would not be good enough to convey what Hermès wanted from the commercial. Had he become a posing peacock? One of those men who think they are god’s gift to women? Andrew didn’t think so, but at the same time he was starting to develop some of those behaviours. But he was not a show off in the rest of his life. He smiled and shook his head at his own rationalisation.

The rest of the journey was uneventful. A businessman got on the train at Newcastle and tried to play conductor when he saw Andrew. Andrew just ignored him and when he carried on Andrew told him to fuck off. When the conductor turned up the idiot businessman immediately complained about him. Sullen silence followed when the conductor informed him that Andrew had a first class ticket. Apparently students are not meant to travel first class, at least not dressed as students. When they arrived at Waverly he was still glowering at Andrew, right up until Andrew stood up and towered over him. Then the pathetic little weasel scurried off. A fucking bully, he must have been a nightmare to work for. Andrew left his grumpiness on the train and grabbed a cab up to the flat. A quick peek in Suzanne’s room confirmed that she was not there and in fact it didn’t look like she had been there at all. The pile of mail behind the door suggested that as well. Once again it was a five minute change and then off to get Pete. A month had passed and Andrew’s flat was looking better and better.

“I can’t believe I gave up your place to share with these guys.”

Pete shook his head.

“Thieving bastards. I have to keep my food in my room otherwise one of them is eating it as if it was theirs. You already let out my room didn’t you?”

Andrew nodded.

“You should see it now. Suzanne brought three car loads of stuff over.”

“Damn. In fact double damn. Not only is there no room but you have Suzanne as a flatmate.”

Pete eyed him sneakily.

“So there is still a room available?”

“She has her own room Pete.”

He laughed.

“Same old Andrew. How’s Cambridge?”

The journey down to the Nite Club was filled with details of life at their respective universities. Pete was doing well on the course although his course was skewing more towards marketing. He was still doing the minimum of computer science courses but it was clear already that he was more interested in marketing. When they got to the venue they encountered a situation rare for them. The place was sold out and with Kenny the friendly bouncer no longer working there they were stuck. In the past when the place was full or sold out Kenny had still got them in. The fire code was voluntary right? So they wandered back up the hill to the Guildford to have a couple of beers and catch up.

“I miss going out to gigs, Cambridge is pretty quiet.”

“What about London?”

“Getting back is the issue. Last train and all that crap. Some bands aren’t even on before I would have to head back to the station.”

“The car?”

“Seems like a bit flash, even for me. Plus I have no idea where I would park it most of the time. I have thought about it now and again. Anyway, I think I need a new car. Leslie really likes it and can’t be bothered going shopping for one herself.”

“Really, you are just going to let her take your car.”

“It’s five years old now. They came out with the new model last year. I will talk to her about it this weekend. If she is serious then I will go shopping for one at Christmas.”

Pete just laughed.

“Listen to you. Don’t fancy something else?”

“I don’t think so. I am used to the Golf and it is not like I drive it much anyway. We will see after I graduate if I want something different.”

Conveniently glossing over what he had been up to the previous weekend. After a few beers they headed back over to Marchmont. It was cold but not raining and so they walked up and over to their flats.

“When you back?”

“I should be here by the end of the second week of December.”

“Why so late?”

Andrew thought for a second but decided to be honest.

“We are meeting with the Imperial Cancer Research Fund that week. Julian doesn’t finish until the 7^th so that is the earliest that we can meet them.”

“Wow. It is really happening?”

He nodded.

“It will be a strange moment, the culmination of many years. I suspect it will be quite emotional.”

Pete exhaled loudly. Andrew understood that feeling.

“It still is so unbelievable that you gave it all away. Well most of it. I don’t think many people at the party have talked about it. In a lot of ways it was amazing just to hear about it, to know about it. Can I ask you how much money you are giving them?”

“£2m.”

“Just for this year?”

“Yes.”

The smile and shaken head were very familiar, and oddly comforting.

“If you did nothing else with your life that would still be an incredible thing. Even at that level you will give more than £100m over your life. Gives the rest of us a kick up the arse, that’s for sure.”

Andrew had never looked at it that way. Even he was taken aback by the amount. They reached Pete’s flat.

“I’ll give you a call when I get back. Three weeks or so, okay?”

It was nice to be just be honest with someone, not self-censor or downright lie. After his usual morning routine of exercise, including a nice long swim across the road, Andrew was sitting in the flat sorting through all the mail. Most was of no consequence, bills and statements but there was a letter from Heloise and a letter from Suzanne. Opening the latter first it was a brief note letting him know that she was staying through in Glasgow this term and that she would probably see him at Christmas. Yes, the letter said probably. Andrew sat on the couch thinking about Suzanne and her sudden reticence to see him. Although Leslie had guilted him about her and Julian on the drive back in the summer, it was Suzanne that Andrew felt he had let down the most. His trips up to Scotland were to see her, at least as much as anyone else. And she was preferring to keep her distance. He sat there for a long time, thinking about them as a sort of couple. Everything had seemed so positive before he left, Leslie had been worried that it was too positive, too much. And yet less than two months later Suzanne was holding him beyond arm’s length. So this was separation from Suzanne; it sucked.

Heloise’s letter was also brief but let him know that she would be in her flat in Paris between 2.00 and 4.00 Paris time on Sunday afternoon. After lunch with his Grandma Andrew could call her and get an understanding of this commercial.

He walked into town as he had a significant purchase to make. Andrew wanted to get Manon and Phillippe something nice for Christmas as a thank you for everything that she had done for him that year. He wanted it to be small so that it would fit in his suitcase to Paris. He had no idea what pieces Hailey had at the Gallery but hoped there would be something that stood out. But first he had to run the gauntlet of Hailey’s idiot helper. The Gallery had just opened and there was no sign of Hailey. What he did encounter was her snobby assistant whose face was a picture. She didn’t want to engage him but also wanted him out the Gallery, he was clearly lowering the tone of the place. Having dealt with idiots the previous day Andrew managed to contain his grump. Mostly. He went to the display of Robert’s pieces looking at them to see if there was anything that caught his eye. As with the drink’s cabinet he had bought for Freya and Jim there were several pieces where there were different woods inlaid to create a pattern or motif. Andrew’s gaze was drawn to a pair of book ends, smaller than the rest of his work but still nicely carved and inlaid. As with all of his work there was nothing manufactured or mass market about them. They were unique and the more Andrew looked at them the more he loved them. He hadn’t seen Julian pull up outside but he now joined Andrew in the gallery.

“Hey, who is that for?”

“Manon, as a thank you for everything. What do you think?”

“Eh, they are nice.”

His art expert, Julian Strong. Andrew took the two book ends to the counter. Just at that moment Hailey arrived.

“Andrew, what are you doing here?”

“Shopping again. I feel like a publican drinking the inventory.”

“Good choice, these are lovely. Who are they for this time?”

“A friend in Paris. She graduated from ENSAD and now works at Hermès.”

The reaction of Hailey’s assistant to all this was hilarious. Her boss was chatting away to him like an old friend and every comment just made her reaction more pronounced. Once everything was settled Andrew led Hailey away from the counter and told her that she needed to watch the attitude of her assistant. The scowl on Hailey’s face when she looked back at the counter was something to behold. She had already starting berating the assistant before he was even out the door. With a smile, Andrew put the present in the trunk and jumped in the car.

After that he and Julian spent the rest of the morning driving around Edinburgh in Julian’s old Capri. Andrew had an old Golf, which Leslie appeared to want to keep since her decrepit Escort had died, and Julian still had his Capri from four years earlier, and it hadn’t been new then. As you can tell, they blew all their money on flash cars!

It was a conscious attempt to recreate their coding experience from school. They ended up taking the M90 all the way to Perth, just to turn round and come back again. They talked computing, coding, what would be described as brain-storming in the years to come. When they got back to the house they went to the home office and tried to map out some ideas for programs. Some were pie in the sky outlandish, and some were nothing more than an incremental improvement of something that existed already. They didn’t expect to get anywhere but it was an opportunity to reconnect, relive some moments from their programming past. The two of them were happy as clams talking programming, trying to see what they could come up with as ideas. The business brains of the outfit left them alone. They would talk to her on another day. They didn’t expect answers, they wanted to enjoy the process. By the end of the day there were posters and scraps of paper all over his home office. After his day with Julian, Leslie and Andrew left him to reheated take-out from the night before and they went out for dinner. A few hours of just the two of them.

“It looks like you two had a paper fight in there today.”

Leslie was smiling. She had been initially taken aback at how much mess they had made but realised that it all related to computing and then smiled indulgently.

“You know what we are like. Lots of ideas, most of them impractical.”

“I stood outside the door a couple of times and it was great to hear you both being so animated. Julian needs this more than he realises.”

“It brought back lots of memories. By the end we both kept looking round for you, expecting you to bang our heads together and stop our flights of fancy.”

“I had my hand out to open the door at one point and had to stop myself. It reminds me of our success. How are you doing Andrew? You seem very calm.”

He spent the first few minutes telling her about Cambridge in year two before getting to the meat of the conversation. First he told her about the day out at Snetterton with the Ferrari.

“You finally drove it?”

“Yes, it was fantastic.”

“What did you get it up to? Over 150?”

Leslie had a very heavy right foot.

“No, maybe 135. The straights are long but they are not that long. I spent more time in the 70 to 100 range, cornering, the guy from DK worked with me on correcting oversteer, stopping the end from spinning out.”

“How did it drive?”

“Heavy at low speeds but it lightens up quickly. The engine has a lot of power, it wasn’t like it crawled up once you are past 100. It felt like I was pushing 140 in mere seconds. I don’t think I could get it to 170 at Snetterton, the corner into the main straight is too slow, too tight. It doesn’t really matter, listen to me. They’d put me in jail if I was caught at 130 or 140. It was fun to have at the track but it is a tourer. Runs smoothly and effortlessly without drama at 80, and you know you can drop it down a gear and drive away from anything else on the road.”

“When are you going to do it again?”

“No idea. I’ll do this once or twice a year but it is an expensive indulgence. Everything to do with that car is an expensive indulgence. But that is not the most interesting news of the term.”

After telling her to keep quiet and let him finish Andrew told her about the commercial and what was going to be involved. It is not often that he could stun Leslie into silence.

“You are really serious, you are going to do this?”

“Yes. I have signed an agreement and everything. I am talking to Heloise tomorrow afternoon and it is scheduled for two weeks’ time.”

“Naked.”

“Yes. I will be filmed naked and then it will be edited to spare my blushes.”

Leslie just looked at him.

“Who are you and what have you done to my shy friend.”

Andrew laughed.

“Apparently I have become a complete show off. I mean who am I to deny millions of women a glimpse of this body.”

It took them more than a few moments to calm down after that.

“It seems to be a significant step Andrew.”

Leslie was practising her mum voice.

“The concept sounds very racy but remember who it is for. Hermès is expensive, exclusive, sophisticated. 30 seconds of my bum hardly qualifies as that. I think it will be lots of careful editing. The basic gist of the two commercials is ‘buy Hermès cologne and Heloise will throw herself at you’ or buy Hermès perfume and someone looking like me will be waiting to warm your bed. Sex sells. This is just the latest variation on that. Lots of shots of clothes puddling at our feet, bodies pressed against each other, hiding the interesting bits.”

Leslie stopped and thought about what he said.

“You are right of course. What the set will be like, what all the film will be like, it will totally different from the finished commercial. Music, voiceover, all that stuff.”

“The big deal is Heloise’s participation. She is the top fashion model in France. This is a major step for her. I am just the pretty boy that she wants to shoot with. Manon as much as told me that if Hermès had the choice it would be with someone more experienced. I hope I am not awful.”

With him now 19 and Leslie just turned 24 Andrew no longer talked about his sex life with her, so didn’t make any reference to Lily and only talked about Abi briefly. It was Leslie that brought up Suzanne.

“Do you think Suzanne is okay?”

“I have no reason to think she is not. You worried in the summer that I was leading her on, that we were storing up heartache. Maybe she has found someone in Glasgow, maybe she just wants to keep some distance between us. I hope that she will be here when we get back from London, but even if she is not, she is my friend and I want nothing but the best for her. It would be good for us both to have our holiday routine shaken up. We are an old married couple during the breaks from university.”

“I hear what you are saying but she has changed with me also. We used to talk most weekends. Just girl chat, nothing too serious but she was a good friend to me too Andrew. The only person close to my own age that I could talk to about the business without having to worry about what I was saying.”

Andrew knew that feeling.

“Every time I have called her flat I always get one of the other flatmates and I ask them to get her to give me a call but she never does. Last week I even challenged the one who answered the phone but she was indignant and claimed she had passed on the message. I don’t know what to think.”

“We will see her at Christmas and we can catch up on all her news and what she is thinking about. I don’t know what else to say. When she finishes at Glasgow and comes back through you and Julian will be on your way to London for the Cancer Fund meetings. It is not like we are all here waiting for her. When we get back from London you can come round and sort everything out.”

Andrew could tell Leslie wasn’t convinced, but given that he was likely the cause of any reticence he could hardly say or do anything. Suzanne said they had an expiration date, maybe it was a lot sooner than Andrew thought. The rest of the evening was more reminiscing that anything else. Leslie did not talk business once, and stopped him from bringing anything up.

“There will be time in December. Let it go.”

Andrew was all for walking home but Leslie was having none of it.

“Hail us a taxi. I am not walking two miles in these shoes.”

Andrew would see her and Julian for dinner the next day, just the two of them and her parents.

Sunday morning was very familiar. His usual exercise regime before dressing smartly and walking across the Meadows in time to escort his Grandma to church. Despite having just turned 79 she was in good form. She leaned on Andrew a little more than in years past but there was an endearing preening joy to her that morning. He was pretty sure she was winning the ‘who can turn up with their grandchild the most in three months’ contest, despite the fact he was at Cambridge. The ruthlessness of the comments and point scoring was breathtaking. He was despatched to pick up lunch from the local chip shop and so their light meal in the middle of the day was deep fried haddock and chips. But again, there was no pretence or artifice with his Grandma. Her and Vi were perfectly happy to sit in and have fish and chips before an afternoon in front of the telly. He left them to the racing and walked back to his flat to talk to Heloise. He called right at 1.00, 2.00 in Paris and Heloise was at her flat as promised. The first five minutes were given over to the usual catching up on how they doing, her life infinitely more interesting than his. But they had danced around the subject enough.

“I would like to talk to you about this commercial Heloise. First of all I have been told that you requested me for it, insisted in fact. Thank you.”

“Andrew, you have become a friend. I don’t have many friends in this business, maybe it is the fact that you are not in the business. There is endless backstabbing and running off to the press. That you are not of this world is a huge advantage. When Beatrice came and spoke to me about making a commercial out of the photoshoot I was intrigued. They rattled off a list of potential co-stars but none of them really had a spark with me like you did. So I suggested that they contact you and ask you if you would do it. I told Beatrice that I would probably pass on the commercial if you were not part of it. I like that you are not a good enough actor to fake passion with models. I loved that it was only when you and I were together that something happened. Once I had unlocked it then you could do the scenes with the other two. I want to see if we can recreate that on film. I want you to remember the last time you were in Paris with me. Hermès wants youthful and vibrant and I think we can do it.”

“What about the nudity?”

“Pah. It is nothing. Hermès will edit the commercial so that it is steamy and sexy, one second on each of our bums, maybe two on yours since they will show a little nipple. The rest? Implied or imagined, not shown.”

Heloise was even more blasé than Andrew was.

“What about me? I have never done something like this before. I know that Hermès are worried I will be too awkward, even although there is no dialogue.”

“Andrew, listen to me. There will be three or four cameras catching the action. I want you to tease me, turn me on, just as I am going to tease you. I will remind you of me kneeling in the shower, bent over in the shower, whatever it takes to drive you wild. After that, it is back and forth between the bed and the counter, cologne, perfume, fade out as you carry me back to the bed to ravish me.”

Her giggle was contagious and he laughed with her.

“Well if that is all I have to do! I just remember getting shouted at a lot in March. I really don’t want three days of ‘non, non, non’.”

“Trust me Andrew, what could go wrong.”

Once the expected laughter subsided he carried on with the questions.

“What about the impact on your career Heloise? Will doing this have an impact?”

There was silence at the other end of the line. Then a quiet sigh.

“That is why you are my friend. But no, it is Hermès. There is an aura of sophistication to them, to their products, and I believe to this. I have told you some of the clothes that I have worn over the last two years. Three, no four sheer tops. The entire world has seen my breasts, such as they are. What I want to show here is my personality. On the runway we always have to have this air of studied indifference. I want to light up the screen, express passion and lust in this commercial. I know that Joelle is the same. This is not acting, we don’t have to deliver a line or anything like that. We have to be ourselves, make a little vignette out of something that we do all the time. Anyway, I am booked through until September next year. I will be fine. What about you? Are you worried about showing your bum to the world?”

“No, not really. It is the process, doing the shot again and again. Standing around in the buff is not the problem, I am more worried about screwing up the commercial through inexperience, something like that.”

There a few more minutes of reassurance but it was time to go.

“Andrew, I want to be honest with you, you are my friend. Even although we will try and get each other wound up during the shoot, I want you as my friend.”

Pause.

“Not as my lover. Please don’t read too much into our actions during the day.”

“You are that sure of yourself. One day with you throwing yourself at me and I will be head over heels.”

“Thank you for making that easy. And yes, it only takes one day.”

After their farewells Andrew sat there with a smile on his face. A six foot tall French supermodel was going to tease him all day but he wasn’t to read too much into it, she was just his friend.

The very definition of first world problems.

The second call to Manon was much more positive than the previous week. Maybe she did it for his benefit but whatever the reason the call was more upbeat. There were more arrangements discussed than anything else. Odd for a Sunday but given his schedule unavoidable. They were to be in Paris in time for dinner on December 6^th, the Thursday. The shoots were scheduled for the following three days. In two weeks’ time it would all be over.

“Manon, am I allowed to bring someone to the shoot? To watch.”

“Male or female?”

“Female, a friend from university.”

Andrew went on to explain about Abi and her mother, how Abi had worked out who Heloise was, their general fascination with fashion.

“So what you are saying is that Abi and her mother would have appreciated the show in the Salon in March more than you and Pedro?”

“Well yes, but think of poor Margeux.”

Manon swore in French at him.

“This friend, she will be okay seeing you with the other models. Heloise.”

“So she claims.”

“Bring them. There is a show in the Salon on the Thursday night, Heloise is one of the models. See if your friend and her mother want to come and see the show. I will get them to put aside four tickets for you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course. I am very proud to work here. At least this way I can talk to two people who appreciate it unlike you and Pedro, Pah.”

The Gallic emphasis on ‘Pah’ conveyed so much, uneducated troll mostly.

Andrew told her he would call the following week at the same time. Digging around he found Abi’s number. When the phone was answered it was her dad, excellent.

“It is Andrew McLeod sir; is Abigail home.”

“Call me Dan Andrew, yes Abi is here.”

20 seconds later.

“Andrew?”

“Hi Abi. Are you sitting down?”

“What? No.”

“You might want to sit down for this. Don’t scream and don’t shout out, okay?”

He told her about the offer from Manon, a fashion show in the Salon of Hermès and that she could watch the shoot.

“Now don’t say anything yet and don’t repeat all any of this where your mother can hear. Do you think she would be interested in coming too? Yes or no?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“What about your dad? I have four tickets for the show.”

A momentary silence.

“I think he would come to. He is not going to care about the show, but the two of them would have a fun time in Paris. He likes to spoil her.”

Andrew smiled at that.

“Do you think that they would come without knowing what was happening?”

A longer silence.

“I don’t think so. When is it?”

Andrew told her about the dates.

“Mum would have to take two days off school, and Dad would have to take holiday as well. I don’t think they would do that on nothing more than me saying ‘trust me’. I think I would have to tell them.”

“Okay, so tell them tonight. Manon told me I have four tickets for the show. The one I was at was very shiny and sparkly so the two of you can glam it up. Your dad and I will be fine in suits.”

“Andrew, just like that. I can bring my parents to a private Hermès fashion show?”

“Abi, Manon is looking forward to talking to people who appreciate where she works, love fashion, love Hermès. I don’t think she had forgiven Pedro and I for looking at her with blank stares when she told us she worked for Hermès.”

Abi laughed but Andrew knew there was some truth to that. The rest of the call was logistics, Abi making sure she had the details correct. He knew there would be many more calls. Finally they were done.

“Thank you for this Andrew. I will see you, when? Tuesday morning?”

Once off the phone Andrew sat back. It all seemed organised, now all he had to do was not stink the place up. No pressure!

 

Chapter 3

In the month that Andrew had been away Tony and Maggie had been busy. Between Maggie and Elspeth all of the old shoots, hundreds of them, had been entered into the program. Looking through the reports, sorted against different fields, they had discovered several older sets, early sets, of popular models. Some, like Naomi’s first set were never going to be published, but others were a possibility. There was lots of dialogue and communication back and forth but nobody had bought anything yet. But they were hopeful. Remarkably three of Stacey and Elspeth’s friends had booked fantasy shoots, and had decided that they would prefer Andrew as the photographer. Tony was also doing some of these shoots but Stacey and Elspeth had talked up Andrew and their friends were going to wait. Other than that things were moving forward; the shop was busy in the run up to Christmas and both the studio and darkroom had lots of bookings. The studio was close to 70% booked now, with the only significant chunks of free time being the weekday mornings. There was someone in there that afternoon. If they started selling some of the shoots then they were well placed.

The one other interesting thing Tony had done was buy another photographer’s portfolio of work. In this case it came about by chance. An old acquaintance of Tony’s, of his father’s generation, had based away and the widow had been in touch to see if Tony was interested in buying all his old camera equipment. Tony had gone to meet her and during the conversation she had mentioned that she was going to throw out all the old boxes of photographs. None of them were of the family and they were just going to be dumped. Rather than haggle over individual items Tony offered a modest amount for everything. He would dispose of anything that was broken or no use and would get rid of all the photos. It was as if she did an estate sale just of the photography stuff. The widow was delighted to get rid of ‘all that old junk’ and so returned with the back of the car piled high. Now Elspeth and Maggie had five boxes of additional shoots to enter in the program.

“Tank had photographs going back more than 35 years.”

You could tell what Duncan Millar, the deceased, did during the war.

“I gave Jessie a couple of hundred quid for the lot. More than the cameras are worth but he was a decent amateur photographer and I figured there will be stuff we can sell in among all those prints.”

It was a gamble but selling a couple of shoots from all the photographs would recoup that and more. Tony instinctively recognised an opportunity.

On the property front, the sale had closed the week after Andrew had returned to Cambridge, and in the intervening three weeks the old buildings on the site had been demolished. This had been planned and approved for months but was on hold with the sale. When the sale closed the buildings were torn down immediately. That had been one thing Hillier’s had checked very carefully. They were old buildings and fortunately for everybody had not been insulated with asbestos. They appeared to have been one step up from glorified barns. So now they owned a large plot of land with no buildings on it. Mhairi had suggested getting a second valuation of the property and that had been received. Rather than Hillier’s valuation of a range just below half a million pounds, the new valuation was a range with a base of half a million pounds and extending up from there. It made it easy for rolling into the property fund, Andrew and Tony offered a £0.5m piece of land in lieu of cash. All of that paperwork was still to be finalised but they were done. The last piece of business was that The EPIC Partnership had been set up and any sales of photographs were going to be through it.

It was only once these updates were discussed that Andrew dropped his bombshell news about Paris. They were both stunned into silence. For about a second.

“Real commercials that are going to be shown on the TV?”

Andrew nodded.

“And they are going to be like the shoot in March?”

Another nod. Maggie blew out her cheeks. She turned to Tony with a wicked smirk.

“He has been hanging out with us too long hasn’t he. Filming racy commercials in Paris. Bloody hell.”

“Mags has that right. Bloody hell Andrew. You will be filmed with your kit off. Completely.”

“Yes, although it will be edited to above the waist at the front.”

Maggie had stopped smirking and had swung the other way.

“Are you sure about this Andrew? This is television, it isn’t even print. After everything that I have talked about, you are okay with this?”

“I am not walking into this blind and unthinking. I have thought about this a lot. The big thing is that there is a double standard. Topless women are sexualised and topless men are not. I can’t change that. In ten years’ time nobody is going to care, in 10 months’ time nobody is going to care. If I am working at a construction firm, or an engineering consultancy you know that it is all going to be taking the piss or mild jealousy. My friend Heloise wants to do this to expand the breadth of her career. She only wants to shoot with me.”

Andrew shrugged.

“Your friend Heloise, the most famous model in France?”

He smiled and nodded at Tony’s characterisation. Maggie had been thinking about what Andrew had said.

“I wish I could disagree with you but it is true. Annoying but true. Here I am thinking I am the naked exhibitionist of the three of us and you go and do this.”

“The way the commercials are being shot, with at least some male and female nudity, they could never be shown here. But I also got Mhairi to write into the contract that they can’t be shown here. I just hope I don’t stink up the joint when I am there. An actor I am not.”

“Maybe not, but even the worst actor can stand in front of a naked woman and look lustful.”

“I hope so. One of the things that will be a challenge is if they want either feigned ecstasy or superior disinterest. You both know that I never shoot like that if I can help it. I think it looks more natural and real when the model is relaxed and smiling. What is the right way to say it. Something like ‘I know I am hot but I am having fun and I bet you can’t believe you get to see someone like me looking so happy’.”

With a catch phrase like that it was clear Andrew was not David Ogilvy’s successor.

“Yes, you always want me to smile and laugh. Often other photographers wanted me to be more serious, as you said, do the whole feigned ecstasy thing. But there is a reason everyone pushes for it, it sells.”

“That is what I mean. I don’t know how the actual shoot will go. Sure we will be wearing robes and towels and not even them half the time. But it is about conveying love, lust, attraction. Maybe it is different when there is another model there. I don’t know. It is when I think about stuff like that that I realise I am a rank amateur. I am more worried about the acting than I am about the nudity. They don’t expect my arse to act, they do expect the rest of me.”

“You will have a lot of tales to tell. When are you back?”

Andrew explained the timing and again confessed why they were in London at the start of the following week. Maggie and Tony’s reaction was pretty well a mirror of Pete’s.

“It puts it all into perspective. This will sound stupid and is almost cruel based on the circumstances but you know I don’t mean it that way. But ever since January 1979 everything in your life has been a bonus. When you sold the company and made all the money for this cancer research trust it is a double bonus. You have the absolutely bloody perfect attitude to doing something like this. Even if this all blew up in your face you have still achieved more than almost the entire rest of the population. And you beat cancer. When you look at it from what you have done, it is almost as if we should be disappointed if you didn’t do this.”

Tony’s speech was clunky but Andrew knew what he meant. When you win at the casino and are playing with ‘house money’ it is more fun, more relaxing. Andrew had beaten cancer; the rest of his life was house money. As Tony said the money was as if he had bet the lot on black number 11 and it had landed there. It was at that moment that Andrew thought about the phrase from that terrible penultimate meeting with Faith; Living Two Lives. So in a halting voice he talked to his friends about it. There were too many silos and his promise to Faith drove a lot of his behaviour. It was only 10 minutes but Maggie was crying and Tony was doing some rapid blinking.

“What made you tell us?”

“I have too many secrets. The way Tony described it was talking round the phrase, one that I had never talked about. But it drives so much of my behaviour, the restlessness, the jumping in and having adventures. And it helps explain my attitude to stuff like this. As you can tell it is not a story I share very much. Hah, very much. Hardly ever. Half a dozen people maybe. Not many more.”

Andrew stopped and thought. Leslie and her parents, Julian, Suzanne, his own parents and Ron down in Cambridge, and now Maggie and Tony. Ten in total. Maggie came over and pulled Andrew up for a hug and Tony was right behind her.

Although the afternoon ended on a sombre note, Andrew was not upset. His life was horribly over-compartmentalised and he needed to knock some of it down. He had known Tony, and Maggie, longer than anyone in his life, other than Pete. It felt good to be truthful, even if it was about a difficult subject. At dinner with the Campbells Andrew was relaxed and it was the usual fun time. The main topic of conversation at the start was Leslie and Julian’s engagement Party.

“Julian has offered to host it at Murrayfield, at the clubhouse. There is a lovely function room there.”

Andrew listened to Mary with half-interest but it was not about him, he would only have to say something at the wedding. Events such as these seemed to be designed to let the parents show off as much as anything. Given both father’s standing in the Edinburgh business community it would end up like Jim and Freya’s wedding, large and unwieldy. Andrew was also intrigued to meet some of Leslie and Julian’s friends. Just like him, they often felt isolated or separate because of the money, even if it was only in their head.

“Andrew!”

He looked round, surprised at the sharp tone.

“I swear you go deaf when you start thinking.”

He looked a bit abashed.

“Sorry. What did I miss?”

“We were talking timing, the Saturday between Christmas and New Year. It is not available before Christmas, too many parties. Are you going to Glasgow?”

“No idea. Why?”

“We are inviting Fran and Nikki, I wanted to know your plans.”

Andrew hadn’t given Christmas much thought. Last year had been such a shitshow that he had tried to forget it. If he stayed away another year then the estrangement would only deepen. Nikki and Fran could stay at the flat, for how long would depend on Fran’s shifts. He would talk to his Grandma and find out what was happening for Christmas. The rest of the evening went by in a flash. There was no business talked about, unusual for them, it could all wait for a couple more weeks. The pair of them drove Andrew back to the station in his own car. Well, for a little while longer.

“I know this is stupid, but I hate car shopping. Can I keep the Golf Andrew? I will give you some money for it but I like it. It is small, fast, light, easy to drive. I don’t want to have to deal with car salesmen.”

What was unsaid was that she was stubbornly independent and didn’t want her dad or Julian to go with her, or for her. Easiest solution, take Andrew’s car. He just laughed.

“I was talking to Pete about this on Friday night. It is not unexpected. I will look at getting a new one when I return, then we can transfer this one over to you. It is not worth much, so don’t worry about the money.”

“No Andrew, I have to give you something.”

“Rubbish. But I am not going to fight you. Look, if I ever drive the Ferrari up here I will need to keep it in a garage to make sure it is safe. There’s the price, Ferrari garaging.”

It made Leslie stop and think.

“You know, I hadn’t thought about that. You can hardly park it in the street in Marchmont. Okay, deal.”

Andrew turned and looked at Julian.

“Hey, do you want to come with me when I look for a new car? You’ve had that Capri for a while. We can do a couple of test drives. I am going to get another Golf but you could see what is out there.”

Julian was crammed in the back seat but Andrew could see him thinking about it.

“I will come with you for sure, let me think about trading in the Capri. Is there a Ferrari dealer in Edinburgh?”

Leslie just laughed derisively, as a wind up it failed miserably. So the two of them acted like 7 year olds for the rest of the journey wondering about ever more outlandish cars. Leslie? She nearly crashed she rolled her eyes so many times. Andrew was still smiling 40 minutes later in his sleeper berth.

By the time he got back to his room on Monday night it was 11.00. He had gone from the station to the Department, and classes were just as intense with three days of the term left, and from there straight to Addenbrooke’s. His evening volunteering shift had run late for no specific reason, just lots of odds and ends. He explained to Tim and Kevin, the two teenage boys that he had spoken to the previous week, that he had gone home to Edinburgh for the weekend. The chat had ranged quite freely and although it was not much more than 20 minutes, it felt substantial, or at least substantive. But by the time Andrew got back to College he was tired and went straight to bed.

When he got back from the pool there was a note on his door to go and get Abi on the way to Hall. Andrew smiled at her impatience. They would have a minute to talk before they got to Hall for breakfast and he had OTC that night. Abi however had other plans. When Andrew knocked on the door it was pulled open and he was yanked inside. Andrew was being kissed before the door latched shut. He dropped his backpack and pulled Abi tight against him. When they finally broke apart her eyes were sparkling, and Andrew was sure his were too.

“Well good morning to you too.”

“If we didn’t have class right now it would be a very good morning. I expect you back promptly after OTC tonight Andrew.”

Hardly knowing whether he was coming or going, they were down the stairs on the way to Hall seconds later. Andrew’s smile could have been seen from space. Classes had a way of wiping the smile off his face and that day was no different. Lectures finished on Wednesday but their last labs were Thursday morning. But the first term of 2^nd year was almost over.

OTC was painful for two reasons. Even before he left for OTC Abi had stripped and climbed into Andrew’s bed, just to torment him, her peals of laughter painful to his ears as he walked down the stairs. The second was that all anyone cared about that night were the arrangements and preparations for Friday night’s bash. But eventually the evening dragged to a conclusion.

Andrew knew that Abi got dressed and sat and worked at the computer while he was away, but when he returned to his room she was exactly as Andrew had left her, naked in his bed. When he came into his room Abi’s smile rivalled his of that morning. As Andrew was fighting to get out of his uniform as quickly as possible Abi grabbed a pillow and knelt in front of him. Nervous determination was the best description of her look. There were no tentative licks or hesitant kisses she opened her mouth and the head of his cock disappeared between her lips. Her eyes were down at first but then her face turned up and the look was what? The look was whatever his imagination wanted it to mean. Approval, satisfaction, delight, naughtiness. A beautiful blonde giving her first blowjob, tongue randomly teasing the underside of his corona, this was only going to have one ending. And soon.

“I am close.”

At least Andrew gave Abi a warning. All she did was redouble her efforts while trying to smile up at him. Close became now.

Abi’s first blowjob ended with her swallowing some, some dribbling out her mouth onto her tits and with some up her nose from Andrew’s second pulse which she struggled to contain as she coughed on the first pulse. She looked a little shocked and stunned at the turn of events but Andrew handed her a towel before pulling her to her feet and kissing her soundly. Pushing her back on the bed Andrew dove between her thighs. There was no foreplay needed with Abi, she was hot and horny already, this minor interlude was to allow him a couple of minutes to recover. And he liked eating pussy. So of course he didn’t touch her there. Both thighs were kissed and caressed, nibbled, it was all tease. But the powers of youthful recovery were as ever a wonder and Andrew stopped his torment and wrapped up quickly. Abi had sat up and was leaning on her elbows watching him. Andrew bent over and kissed her.

“When you can take no more say ‘mercy’.”

Her look of confusion gave way to pleasure as Andrew drove into her. She was slick and turned on. Sliding his hands under Abi’s bum Andrew pulled her towards him and leaned back onto his knees. He had done nothing like this to Abi before but once he closed his eyes and got into the rhythm, focusing on nothing but her pleasure, she realised what he was doing. The second orgasm followed the first very quickly and when he pressed down on her mons pubis, effectively getting the g-spot from both sides, she pleaded for mercy. Slowly lowering her back to the bed Andrew lay beside her waiting for her to recover. Abi turned towards him and mumbled into his chest.

“I will beat that smug expression off your face Andrew McLeod. What the hell did you do to me?”

Andrew guessed it was rhetorical and just rubbed her back letting her regain her equilibrium. Abi pulled herself up onto his chest and stretched long and thin down his body. She looked at him.

“I try to give you a night to remember, I am all ready to rock your world and then you do this crazy sex move on me. I am an innocent country girl, not wise to your big city ways.”

Abi might have been down but she was not out. Andrew pulled her to him and they kissed for a long time.

“That’s what you get for teasing me before you left. Have you ever tried to march when all you can think about is the hot blonde lying naked in your bed?”

He caressed her arse and kissed her again.

“We never talk any more, all you want is my body. My eyes are up here.”

His mock whining made her snort and just so he didn’t think that this sort of thing was to be tolerated he got a whack for good measure.

“If you had told me at the end of last year that before the end of this term I would be lying naked in the arms of a man laughing about sex I would have thought you were crazy. Sex is fun with you Andrew. No big deal, just endless orgasms and lots of kissing and hugging. Never mind all the peripheral stuff.”

She stopped.

“I have about a thousand things I want to talk to you about, or discuss or, oh I don’t know. You make me so crazy with your wicked ways. No sex tomorrow until we talk. Bad Andrew.”

What Abi was forgetting was that Andrew had not come. They had stopped before he was close to blowing. Andrew stopped Abi’s chat with a kiss, his long arms curled under her arse and started stroking her pussy lips. His kiss stifled her gasp before he began kissing her neck. He started murmuring in her ear, nothing that made sense, just teasing her. The prospect of continuing to fuck Abi had already worked its magic on him and with a quick check to make sure that the condom was still rolled down tight, Andrew lifted Abi up and lined her up with his cock. It took a second for them to seat properly but then he was buried deep inside her. Holding Abi’s arse Andrew flipped her onto her back. Abi wrapped her legs round him but flung her arms wide. She looked fantastic, and she knew it, but in the end it was all mental. The look on her face, the way she held his gaze, the whispered ‘harder’. All to soon Andrew was holding himself up, struggling to not squash Abi, as he came down from his orgasm. The talking could wait for the next day, they were back in bed after quick pee trips, and minutes later were both fast asleep.

Dinner after the end of their classes the next night was something different. Olivia signed Keith, Matt and Andrew in and the four of them had dinner at Newnham, the all-women College. They were not the only men there, but even sitting down Andrew felt conspicuous. Two members of the hockey team from the match in 1^st year stopped by. There had been no talk of a repeat match so it looked like the match was a one year wonder. It was nice to eat at another College, something he had not done before. It never occurred to Andrew that anyone would want to come and eat at his College but then he realised that was bollocks. There were often people from other Colleges at Formal Hall. The pieces were all there he just had not connected them in his mind.

They were unusual in that they went to eat when classes were over, unlike most of the rest of the University who started drinking heavily. Again, an exaggeration but it did seem like the goal of the evening was not to remember it. If they wanted to get into Cindies they would have to be there early. But first Abi and Andrew had to talk, with their clothes on. They did their usual circuits round the South Paddock, bundled up for the cold, wet night.

“There is a lot that I have to talk to you about, so much. I almost don’t know where to begin. Let me list them all and then we can figure out what is going on. We need to talk about last night at some point, you are dangerously good at sex. We need to talk about Paris. A lot. And before you completely upended my weekend I had spent a long time talking to Mum, about me, you, us, men, sex, my fantasies, the whole lot. I have a lot to think about, and talk to you about.”

Like that wasn’t going to be inevitable.

“Paris first. As you can imagine, that was a long complicated discussion, first with Mum, and then with both her and Dad. The short answer is yes we are going to come to Paris with you. But they want to talk to you beforehand. You are going to London on Saturday, right?”

“Yes, lunchtime.”

“Can we meet on Saturday before you go? They want to talk to you. And it is all stuff I will have told them already, they just want to hear you say that it is okay.”

“I have the OTC dinner on Friday night so as long as they are not here too early then that will be fine.”

Someone still liked getting parental approval, Abi was beaming widely.

“All my talks about everything else were with Mum. Daughters just don’t talk about their sex lives with their fathers. First of all, she was incredibly nice, wrong word, understanding. She didn’t judge and the fact that you and I were having sex did not surprise her at all. She listened as I talked about this term, what I wanted, what I couldn’t find, the whole thing of growing up. What did shock her was when I started talking about my orgasms. I don’t know that my mother had ever used that word before. The novelty at the beginning, your concern about my being happy with one long intense one, but then the impact of modelling in my mind, and the effect it had on my body. We talked for a long time about this fantasy, I was responding to it, mentally as well as physiologically. We reached no conclusion.

“But you were right, it was good to talk about it with her. She didn’t go into details of her modelling past but the fact that we talked about it as I was growing up, and especially in my teenage years, makes me think that there is an inherent glamour to it. Mum did it so it must be okay. She has never given me the gritty expose on her time as model and beauty contestant, so in my mind it is something great. That is the best I can come up with.

“Maybe seeing the commercial being shot will dispel this exaggerated sense of mystery and glamour, I don’t know.”

Abi finally stopped talking.

“It sounds like it was a good weekend.”

“That’s it?”

“Abi, we are 19, still working things out. Let’s see how the next couple of weeks turn out. What are you going to say when someone asks you to model for them, for real? You are an incredibly beautiful woman, with poise and a great body. You need to be ready to deal with that reality.”

They talked some more about the upcoming trip, well Andrew’s job was to listen, Abi needed to talk it out. After their third lap of the Paddock they headed back to their rooms. Abi was coming out with them that night so she went to quickly change. They managed to get into Cindies without queueing, just, but it was packed already and there were going to be a lot of people stuck outside on a miserable November evening. Jack was already there with Karen, that still got some getting used to, and Rollie was right behind the three of them as they debated how to get served at the bar. It was at this point all the extra money, bits of change that Andrew had left over the term, paid off. Without him even attempting to get served, Dean the barman looked over the sea of drunken faces and mouthed ‘how many?. Six fingers produced six pints, and netted him the change from a tenner. A £4 tip on a £6 bar bill was a bit steep but it saved 20 minutes of sweaty hell and was worth every penny. And yes, Andrew was still trying to convince himself that money hadn’t changed him!

Abi looked askance at the quick service. Andrew shrugged, left Matt in charge of the beer and headed to the dancefloor. They weren’t boyfriend and girlfriend but that night they were. Other than a 10 minute break to drink up warm beer they never left the dancefloor. This was fun, flirty and seriously sexy Abi making bedroom eyes at Andrew and not caring who saw. While more than a few people suspected something between them, that night a lot of suspicions were confirmed. It was a great way to end the term, well if he didn’t have to get up for a final lab in the morning.

When Abi and Andrew left at midnight the queue was still insanely long. He didn’t know how late Cindies stayed open, he only remembered being there at closing once, but there were still a lot of very drunk students waiting to get in. On the walk back to College there was steam coming off them they were so hot. The clean-up was quick and perfunctory before climbing wearily into her bed.

Andrew was tired in the morning but other than that felt fine. One beer over the course of the night meant he was dehydrated rather than hungover. He asked Peggy to make chicken and lots of pasta for 12.30 so he could have a big lunch. It was just Matt and him that morning for breakfast, Malcolm had finished the previous day and did not need to be at breakfast at 8.00.

That was a preview of Living Two Lives - Book 14. To read the rest purchase the book.

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