Living Two Lives - Book 19

Chapter 1

The thing that had changed the most over the previous two or three years was Andrew’s tolerance for his own angst. Where once upon a time he would have endlessly agonised over something, now he got fed up with listening to himself. So it was from Boxing Day forward, the whole previous eight days seemed to have been one long drama and once again Edinburgh was becoming synonymous with it. There was nothing he could do with his family and it was time to move on. Andrew wasn’t rude to his Grandma but he was blunt with her, he had no interest in hearing about the shitshow that was the family Christmas Day. Andrew spent time with her and took her into the centre of Edinburgh so she could hunt for some bargains in the sales. She met up with her daughter, his Aunt Davina, and Andrew was able to escape. He would see her on the Sunday when he got back from Glasgow.

But as he walked up to Tony’s shop Andrew also realised that his relationship with Tony and Maggie had a lot to do with it as well. Despite the amounts being invested, and the money the businesses were generating, there was a lightness to the relationship. And it was because of their bizarre three-way. Andrew was smiling as he walked past the Library, was Maggie, and photographing her naked, the secret to getting him to calm down. But that was unfair to her. Yes, it was no hardship to photograph her but it was their friendship that mattered, Maggie’s exuberance, Tony’s quiet common sense. Andrew was still smiling when he got to the store. And apparently it was contagious, both Elspeth, in helping for a couple of days, and Tony were also grinning widely. He nodded with his head.

“She is through the back.”

Maggie didn’t look sad but did look a bit sheepish. Andrew pulled her into a hug for a change. He could feel her relax in his arms.

“I got a bit carried away on Christmas Eve.”

“So. Do you know what the only problem was? There was nobody waiting for me at home.”

“I always used to marvel at your iron control, I was never sure what you were feeling or thinking.”

They were standing making tea for everyone.

“It has changed. It wasn’t that I didn’t think of you as a woman, a model with this incredible sexy body. But you were my friend Maggie and for the longest time you were careful how you posed naked. But I have to confess as you have embraced posing in this more, whatever the right word is, uninhibited way maybe, that has changed for me too. And after Tuesday night I would have to be made of stone not to have been turned on by it. “

Maggie rested her head against his shoulder.

“I can understand that. We bought a dildo when we were in Amsterdam, although not as thick as that one.”

She didn’t sound upset at her new toy.

“I wanted to do a shoot like that, for at least six months. It just never seemed to be the right time.”

They carried the tea through to the four people working in the shop, before retreating to the darkroom.

“A lot of the shoots, I make the suggestions, the beaches, castles, construction equipment, things like that. I didn’t know that this was high up your fantasy list.”

The worked away developing the four rolls of film.

“There is one thing I would like to ask you. Where does it end Maggie?”

They had not yet reached the stage where the darkroom was in red light, Maggie could see his face and she knew what he meant. She sighed.

“It is too easy in some ways Andrew. Tony encourages me, I know that he loves it too, you never judge me and if anything just egg me on. When I was modelling the fantasies were all based around the things I would never do. But really that was just open leg modelling, it was never more defined than that. And for the last two years it has been like that. I think the first time was up at the beach at Morar, well in the rocks, but that day. And since then it has been ever more explicit. If you had asked me three years ago if we would be developing pictures like these with me as the model it was inconceivable. I would have been upset at anybody for thinking that I could do that. And now look at me.”

She helped Andrew remove the negatives and hang them up to dry.

“Once I had finished assaulting Tony we lay on the bed and talked about it. Trying to understand why you being there was such a turn on, for both of us. That is the part neither of us can really explain or understand. It wasn’t like I hadn’t played with the dildo before, he had watched me, he had filmed it, never mind photographed it. But doing it in front of you? It was better. It is an odd thing to say but our sex is better after one of these sessions. And it is not like it is crap when you are away during term.”

Andrew bit the bullet.

“Are you going to want me to photograph you and Tony having sex?”

That Maggie didn’t immediately answer was an answer in and of itself.

“I think that we are wrestling with that. Mostly no, but there is no point in lying, at least a small part of both of us are intrigued by the idea.”

“Is that because I never say no?”

A considered silence.

“No doubt.”

Andrew instinctively came to a decision, surprising himself with the speed he reached it.

“Well I think I am setting a limit for myself. I don’t think I want to watch, never mind film, two of my best friends having sex. And even as I am saying that, it feels right to me. So there is my limit. I am fine repeating Tuesday and there are obviously one or two grey areas beyond that but we are nearing my limit.”

Maggie mechanically moved prints between the developing trays as she thought about what Andrew said.

“Do you know what, I like the way you say that it feels right. And thank you for being discreet about the grey areas. Beyond Tuesday is different and so I am pleased we have talked about this. I will talk to Tony tonight but having a framework, and a hard stopping point, will be good for us. When I fuck Tony it will just be the two of us.”

Maggie’s sigh was an exhalation of relief. But then her natural exuberance returned.

“Of course, that means you still get to fire us up.”

Maggie pointed to a freshly printed photograph.

“We need to plan an outdoor shoot and bring the toys.”

They both laughed. After hanging all the prints to dry they went back through to the shop, but it was a day for exuberant women hugging Andrew and so Maggie helped with the customers while Elspeth dragged Andrew through the back and hugged him. She was bubbling with excitement.

“You are going to cost me a fortune Andrew.”

He looked confused.

“The children are going to need therapy if we carry on the way we are. We woke them on Christmas Eve. My 17 year old son woke up to his mother telling his father to. Well you can guess what I was telling him to do. It was the funniest Christmas ever. Donnie says thank you for his Christmas present.”

Elspeth finally stopped her stream of consciousness and took a breath.

“Two years ago, things were stale between us, there wasn’t a problem but it was all just drifting along, taking each other for granted. Now it is better than when we were first married. We have reclaimed a portion of our lives from the kids. It was all about being mum and dad. Now there is Elspeth and Donnie again.”

Andrew nipped into the shop, told Tony he was borrowing Elspeth for an hour and led her through to the studio. She was smiling happily

“The days are running out, I am off on Monday. We need to do your Valentine’s Day shoot. Go and change into the black corset with the red piping. Red stockings always look ridiculous so go with black. Have a look around and see what else there is that is red. I will get everything set up in the studio.”

Elspeth came out in the corset and stockings but also with a red ribbon in her hair and long dark scarlet opera gloves. Her heels were black too. And it was fun and easy. Elspeth was always going to be a heavy woman but she had trimmed a little of the excess off her frame, and the difference was psychological rather than physiological. She still had a big bum but now was far less concerned about showing it off, getting it photographed. Other than the opera gloves everything else stayed on, although her tits were popped out of the corset within the first 10 minutes and she never even bothered with knickers. Elspeth was turning into her version of Monica the model. Her limits were stretching with every shoot, but within those limits it was crystal clear she really enjoyed showing off, posing for Andrew and his camera. He couldn’t believe how easy it was to capture some great shots.

“I will leave the five rolls of film for you to develop, okay?”

Elspeth came out of the dressing room buttoning the cuffs of her blouse.

“Sure. I think I will keep this shoot a secret until the end of January, otherwise I won’t get a minute’s peace.”

She paused and then smiled.

“Mind you….”

“Think of the therapist’s bills.”

Elspeth laughed, kissed him on the cheek and went back to work. Maggie and Tony were going to keep the shop open until the last of the Boxing Day shoppers had parted with their Christmas money, so Andrew wished them both a Happy New Year and told them he would call once he was back from France. Andrew headed off to find some dinner.

Going out with Pete and reconnecting with Don White was a fun night. Andrew had seen Don once in three and a half years, his party before he started at Cambridge, and it was great to catch up. There was nothing profound or especially revelatory it was just nice to reconnect with someone he had spoken to every day at school from 2^nd to 5^th year. The years fell away as the three of them reminisced about various people and the memorable moments during their time at school.

“Do you still keep in touch with people from school Andrew?”

Andrew was surprised that Pete hadn’t told Don although why would he have bothered?

“No. Just a couple. I don’t spend much time in Edinburgh anymore. Six weeks a year probably, two each break.”

“Even in the summer?”

“My summer job is based in London so I stay there for most of the summer. I didn’t even see Pete this summer.”

“Tell him about your flatmate.”

The smile on Don’s face indicated that he was well aware of who Pete was talking about.

“Pete used to be my flatmate, and I very memorably met his girlfriend Melody one Spring afternoon.”

Don’s face changed as Pete smacked Andrew on the shoulder.

“Old girlfriend, idiot. Yeah, I was his flatmate for a term and the summer back in 1^st year. And Melody, who was a right cracker, was lying on the couch waiting for me when this one unexpectedly arrived home. Lying on the couch, legs spread, naked as the day she was born. And then screaming at Andrew for daring to be in his own flat. But I am no longer your flatmate, am I?”

“Suzanne Jenner has been my flatmate for more than a year, although I am at Cambridge and she is in Glasgow so it is hardly daily living. So the two people from school that I keep in touch with regularly are her and this one here.”

Andrew’s admission, which Don knew anyway, brought a further round of reminisces about life at school.

“Every day for the last two years I was at school. Lucky bastard.”

“They were in the same class in 6^th year as well so it was three years. Did you know they swam every morning together for most of that time? Every morning.”

Pete was shaking his head in mournful disbelief. It was shallow and it was mostly looking back on their time at school but it was a relaxing and fun night out.

“When are you taking the Board?”

The Selection Board, to get into the Army.

“Easter. I debated holding off until after I graduate but that would mean I don’t start at Sandhurst until the start of the following year. I am doing fine on my course so I am going to do it during the Easter break. That way I have a chance for the September intake, assuming I pass of course. What about you?”

“Almost certainly after I graduate. My finals are immediately after the Easter break so I am not going to do it then and Christmas seems too soon. I only have the second four weeks of the TACC to attend anyway so there is less of a rush. I would hope to be done by the end of 1987 but if it not until the spring of 1988 then so be it. The time off will be the only thing I need to deal with.”

“You have any doubts about passing Selection?”

Andrew shrugged.

“Closer to the time I will talk to the Permanent Staff but I don’t think so. I know the OTC is hardly the Royal Scots but I am doing well. I will be in the Sapper section anyway and so I think I should be okay. You?”

“Same thing. My only worry is that it is easy to stand out at the OTC when there are so many blokes there just taking the piss, there for the money or the Adventure Training. But I have spoken to most of the officers this term getting their thoughts. I feel prepared and am confident I will pass.”

At the end of the night they poured Don into a taxi before getting one themselves. Suzanne was already in their bed when Andrew got back to the flat but he had a quick shower before joining her. Don was a smoker and so his hair and clothes stunk of cigarette smoke. But it was all forgotten as he cuddled up behind Suzanne. The next morning after swimming they were drinking coffee as usual.

“Remind me of your plans.”

“I am driving south on Monday and I should see Grandma and Julian and Leslie before I go. Other than that I have no plans.”

“So if we go and see Nikki and Fran tomorrow morning, come back lunchtime Sunday, then you can spend the afternoon with your grandmother and then we can have the two of them round for dinner?”

“Sure. I haven’t had a chance to talk to Nikki or Fran though. They don’t get back until tonight.”

“They figured that you would be through this weekend so it is no big deal.”

“Okay, so what do you want to do today?”

Suzanne’s leering pervy face needed work but Andrew got the message. And so they spent the day studying. No really they did but as interludes between repeated bouts of fucking. There was no overthinking, nothing more than two 20 year olds with an excess of horniness. After the first time they undressed all they wore for the rest of the day were their robes, easy on, easy off. What the day highlighted or reinforced was that they were both turned on by the other’s body. Andrew could run his hands over Suzanne’s body all day long. She was the prototypical siren, all tits and arse, his eyes were drawn to her all the time. But she was the same way. There was a lot of running her hands over his body, tracing the individual muscles. At one point she had Andrew lie face down on the bed and must have spent 30 minutes just massaging his arse. Normally it was men who were the visual creatures but Suzanne drank her fill that day. It was a gloriously lazy, carnal and relaxing day. He was drained by the end of the night and Suzanne’s smirk as she lay there demanding more was hilarious. They both knew that it was bullshit as she was asleep before him. Suzanne had said it right, less theory more practice.

When you wake up and your balls ache it is a disconcerting feeling. But between repeated convulsive drainings as well as them bashing against female flesh all the previous day Andrew shouldn’t have been surprised. There was no way he was running but the two of them went across the street and lazily swam back and forth. The feeling of rejuvenation was wonderful and they were both recovered by the time they were on the road to Glasgow.

“Do you think we overdid it yesterday?”

Andrew laughed.

“My balls don’t ache as much as when I woke up but I know what you mean. It seems sad to think there is such a thing as too much sex.”

“Too much vigorous sex? Everything feels tender down there.”

Andrew glanced at her with a smirk.

“Did you bring the lube?”

He was whacked for three miles of motorway. The time at Nikki and Fran’s flat was relaxing and funny as usual. It wasn’t that they didn’t give Andrew, or indeed them both, advice but it was more that he just wanted to be free of the drama of the break. The two of them were stable, happily married, in all but name, and lived a quiet, drama free life. Andrew could tell that they loved having Suzanne staying with them, the chance to play Aunt to a younger woman, as well as the connection to him. He shared the latest modelling stories with them, Fran fell off her chair she was laughing so hard at the dancer’s belt parts.

“So they were filming the filming, is that right?”

“Yes, they were filming the audition, but they also filmed the filming of the audition. A look at what happens during part of the making of the commercial. I don’t know that anything will come of it but it was daunting for all the models. There were more than 50 people on the set when they came out.”

“But it must have been the same for you. Were you not nervous?”

“Strangely no. I was in the commercial, so there was no pressure. It is very odd but I don’t worry about being naked in a studio. And the other thing is that I always talk about being naked but in reality, I have that covering, the postiche and even that makes a psychological difference. But somebody, it might have been Chiara, told me that I treat this like a hobby. I know I have been lucky, insanely lucky in this whole process but I am getting good at it. The Friday shoot, the Dance of the Seven Scarves, was with six different models. I tied on 42 scarves to six different women and then took off 84 scarves from the same six women, all the time kissing and caressing them. It was 15 days ago and I can’t even remember all their names. So it becomes a job, very quickly, a bizarre job but a job nonetheless. Thursday was 16 hours and Friday was 12, it can be exhausting.”

The reality of the modelling always caught everyone by surprise. Andrew moved them on from the modelling although it was mentioned on and off over the course of the day that they were there. Nikki and Fran had a sensible life with limited personal drama. Fran’s job was full of drama but as a pediatric surgeon, specialising in new-borns, it could not be all positive. Andrew saw a little of the shell that all medical staff must have, she didn’t raise the details of her work and none of them asked too many questions. But he also knew that she must talk about it with Nikki when it was just the two of them. Everyone needs a release valve.

Dinner was takeout and wine the former of which Andrew consumed to excess and the latter of which the three ladies consumed to excess. Nikki managed to make it to their room without too much incident but this time it was Fran that he carried through as she had completely fallen out the tree. He forced Suzanne to drink two pints of water, over many curses and threats before silence descended on the flat. He was back from his run and sitting in the kitchen when Suzanne wandered through looking ragged. He passed her a mug of coffee. She sat in silence sipping the coffee before finally talking.

“Did you make me drink water last night? I seem to have some vague memory of you making me drink water.”

Andrew nodded.

“Thank you. I am rough round the edges but not nearly as bad as I should be.”

Talking of which. Nikki shuffled through and did the same routine as Suzanne, silent drinking of coffee before finally trying to speak.

“What is it about you Andrew? I never get that drunk unless you are around. I haven’t felt this bad since Leslie’s wedding.”

That set the tone for the rest of the morning. Nikki and Fran had horrendous hangovers and Suzanne had a mild one. Andrew kept quiet as he didn’t want to be beaten for being fine. After an early lunch he and Suzanne headed back to Edinburgh. She would be back in 10 days or so for the start of term. She napped in the car on the way back so when they returned to the flat she felt much more human than earlier in the day.

“I’ll be back around 6.00 okay?”

Andrew didn’t even go up to the flat, he just headed over to his Grandma’s flat. The afternoon with her was fun. Vi came over and the three of them played cards as usual. The two of them liked to win a few pounds off Andrew purely through their skill. He wasn’t throwing the game, he was trying to win as much as possible. But it made them so happy to genuinely beat him and they knew he could afford it, so the two of them were ruthless with him. He went and got dinner for them before heading back to the flat. Suzanne dropped him off at the restaurant to collect the take out while she went on to get Leslie and Julian. They arrived within a minute of each other and sat down to eat while catching up on the last few days. Everyone pointedly steered clear of Christmas Day.

“Why are you going back to London so soon, rather than stay until at least New Year?”

“It seemed to be the right thing to do at time. I can’t really explain it.”

There was a shit, vague answer.

“That’s it?”

Andrew sighed.

“No there is more to it than that. Jim and Freya asked if I wanted to go to the New Year party at their club in London. I decided to spend New Year with them.”

Nobody made Andrew say it but they all knew what he had left unsaid. Julian’s next comment said it all.

“I hope your grandmother lives to be a 100.”

It took a while for the conversation to recover but it was his last night and eventually the moment passed. Julian and Andrew spent a long time talking through about the two programs, particularly whether to concentrate all the time on one program first or continue to split the focus. Andrew would spend a couple of evenings at Easter seeing how they were doing. Once Julian and Leslie were gone he and Suzanne crawled into bed and he wrapped her in his arms. He was going to miss her and he fell asleep with a deluge of confused thoughts about the woman in his arms.

When they returned from the pool in the morning Andrew showed Suzanne exactly how much he was going to miss her. It was all the classic moves, pulling her down the bed, getting her into an ‘el’ shape and then fucking her hard as he held her thighs before finally flipping her onto her knees and just pounding away. Lying beside her on the bed afterwards Andrew watched her smiling face.

“Please stay for the full two weeks at Easter. I will write this term and let you know what my plans for the summer are. If I get a job in London can I stay with you?”

“Of course. The only thing to remember is that I have been sent away for the last two years during the summer. I was away for four weeks the first year and seven last year. Out of ten. It is a house over four storeys so it is a lot different than the flat. I hope to be there all summer but I can’t guarantee it.”

“Tell me about the house Andrew.”

“It is all vague memories now. The only time I was ever in it was just after I bought it. They had demolished part of the stairs to get a car into the back of the building so I remember a mess, climbing ladders to get to the 1^st floor and down to the basement. I saw pictures when the work was complete but Brian popped in and did the on-site inspections. So I don’t know what it looked like when it was renovated and I don’t know what condition it is in now. A family has lived there for five years and so I imagine that it will need some touch-ups. Paint, scratches, stuff like that. I bought it so long ago and it is this mythical thing. I consciously avoid going near it when I am in London. So I am excited to finally get into it but it may need some work.”

“It will be like buying a new house.”

“In a way. But it is also a long term house. It has five bedrooms I think, at least four. It is much more compact and only has a tiny little courtyard garden, but in many ways, it is exactly like what Julian and Leslie have, a house that could last for decades. July feels significant, finally getting into the house is a major step.”

He shrugged.

“You will have no idea where you are going to work until you start?”

“Probably not. I didn’t know I was going to Cyprus until the week before and was there for half my time. Same with West Germany the year before.”

“Thank you for letting me know that. A couple of days or even a week on my own would be okay but I don’t want to spend the whole summer on my own in a strange house. I think London will have to wait for another year.”

He nodded. Her concerns made sense. After Andrew loaded the car he hugged Suzanne for a long time. Things had been better in September than in June and better again in December than September. But he needed to be with her away from Edinburgh. If he was in London that summer then hopefully Suzanne would let him fly her down several times. Andrew needed some time away from Edinburgh with her.

Once on the road he thought about Edinburgh and the reasons he kept returning. It was no longer home, and what little stuff he had was scattered between the flat, Jim and Freya’s place and Cambridge. It was his Grandma, Leslie and Julian and through them all the Trusts and businesses, Tony and Maggie and the photography business, and Suzanne that brought him back to Edinburgh. None of his university friends lived in London, other than Navya and Andrew could hardly drop by there. Justin and Helena were in the commuter belt, Matt was way out west in Barnstaple, Pedro was in Madrid and Olivia was in Clermont-Ferrand. But London was where he had the house and where he was looking to buy an office. Had he determined that he was going to live and work in London six years earlier when he bought the house? Andrew could let it out again and make good money and live wherever he wanted. The miles passed as he thought about his life.

Rather than wonder why he was so set on moving to London Andrew shrugged and accepted it. It was done. He was going to continue to return to Edinburgh every break until he graduated but then he would have to think about his involvement with the Trusts thereafter. This last set of meetings had been a blur as he dealt with the stuff with his parents. The cancer research Trust, Faith’s Trust, was no work at all. Leslie managed the money and they had a meeting with the Cancer Fund once a year. It was the Endowment Trust that he had to consider. Leslie was powering ahead with all the plans she had laid out in the prior years, supporting university research and working out all the details on the school science project. She had a full time job, had Morag as her assistant and her first trainee was starting in the New Year. His role had been to push the snowball down the hill but the avalanche was controlled by Leslie. But that and the People Fund were going to be things that he needed to review when university was over. What he didn’t know was how much his ambivalence over them was due to the need for him to be in Edinburgh as opposed to anything else. How the Trusts were doing had nothing to do with Andrew. It was Leslie and Doug Somers that made the returns which allowed them to invest in the people and companies that they recommended.

And Andrew wanted to see how his relationship with Julian and Leslie changed when he had a home in London. They were his closest friends. He and Julian thought the same and reconnected over software design and coding. He could talk to Leslie about anything and she was his ultimate sounding board. But the weekly meetings of his time at school were a thing of the past. However, they had warned him about the ongoing isolating effect of being young and rich. Andrew would be facing the same thing shortly.

But in his own random way he had shown himself, and them, a way through his friendship with Tony and Maggie. Just as Leslie had a strong, and separate, friendship with Suzanne, Andrew could see the same thing happening with Maggie. They were utterly different, came from backgrounds completely dissimilar to Julian and Leslie, yet there was a connection. And it wasn’t just him. All four of them were businesspeople and when they met just as a four, it was the challenge of creating a business, growing a business, expanding it, that was the connection. Tony and Julian could talk about the opportunities for computers within businesses, think about the next idea. Even something as simple as the modelling program that Andrew had created had showed Tony the power of computers. And the more Andrew thought about Maggie and Leslie, the more it was if they were related. They were both more ruthless than their husbands and he knew they both liked upsetting the male dominated business world. And the thing that this break had shown Andrew, it was as clear as day, was Maggie and Tony were the people who calmed him down the most effectively. Better than Leslie and Julian, better even than Suzanne, it was to them that Andrew had turned after the awful meeting with his parents.

Suzanne no longer talked about the Edinburgh dream that Leslie and Julian had. Five years before she wanted exactly what they had, big house, lots of kids, send them to Heriot’s. Now, she was unsure what she wanted and was at least considering London. Did he and Suzanne have a chance? Did he want her in that way? Andrew was unsure as to the first and didn’t know how to think about the second, never mind answer it. He pushed Ara aside for the moment and dealt with Suzanne and Edinburgh. She was back to being his Edinburgh girlfriend, he never looked at another woman when he was in Scotland. He had to shake his head and laugh. He looked at lots of women but that was purely professionally! But the following Christmas he did not need to come to Edinburgh just as he wouldn’t need to return at Easter in 1987. He could stay and study at the house. What all that meant on the penultimate day of 1985 Andrew didn’t know.

And then there was the reason that he would always return to Edinburgh. The one person more than any other that he could never let down, his Grandma. She was the ultimate anchor to Edinburgh. He didn’t need to study in Edinburgh at either break next year, but he would be there for two weeks both times. It didn’t need to be explained or rationalised. She was the only family he had left. Sure he had aunts and uncles, cousins and so on, but they were not in each other’s lives on a regular basis. His Grandma was the glue that held it all together. And it was wonderful and disheartening all at the same time. Because she was a reminder of what he had lost. Edinburgh was always going to be an emotional burden and there was nothing he could do about it. He and Suzanne would get sorted out one way or another in the next 18 months. Same with his involvement in the Trusts, with all the different businesses. But Andrew was always going to come back to see his Grandma and it would always be an emotional strain.

And that strain impacted on the rest of his time in Edinburgh.

Andrew was well into England by this point and started to think about what awaited him when he got to London. An emotional retelling to Freya and Jim of the conversation with his mum and dad. The symbolism and symmetry of that did not go unnoticed. Over the coming term he would talk to them about living at the house versus living with them. In one way it was easy and obvious that he would just stay in his house but in others it was not so clear cut. Freya was actively mentoring him and Andrew didn’t want to spurn them both after everything they had done for him. In some ways having some work to do on the house would allow a more gradual transition. He didn’t want to let them down, just up and leave, despite the fact he had done exactly that with his own parents. Hell.

That left Arabella. Other than an infrequent kiss they were friends but there had been no hint or suggestion of anything more. Ara’s freak out at the start of November was very similar to Suzanne’s recent comment and it seemed to reset them. Suzanne and Andrew were significantly closer than he was with Ara, it was no contest. He and Ara were taking whatever they were doing very slowly, which was both good and necessary but left Andrew wondering how everything tied together.

Navya and Olivia were friends, close friends, and there had never been any sense of flirting or the prospect or the desire for anything more. Meredith was sex first and friendship second. They were friends, went out in a group, had dinner, played bridge, but in the middle of June next year it would be over. And Andrew had no idea whether they would even maintain a correspondence or friendship, or whether she would ride off into the sunset never to be seen or heard from again. Abi was slipping away, maybe the right tense was she had already slipped away. Proximity at Trinity kept them in each other’s company but unless her current behaviour u-turned he was not sure there would be even contact after university. Helena was always a friend, as close as Navya and Olivia, but with some pretty great sex as a very pleasant bonus. Andrew resolved on that drive to try and spend some more time with Helena although he knew it would be tough with all of her Student Union activities. But there was no sense of awkwardness between them so he hoped for a long friendship post university.

Why was Andrew doing this cataloguing? The dichotomy of his behaviour and his emotions. He was happy to fuck around, as the last month had shown, while at the same time trying to figure out his feelings and emotions for two very different women, in two different cities. If he and Ara starting having sex again he would have an Edinburgh girlfriend, a Cambridge girlfriend and a London girlfriend, and that was before his slutting around in Paris. Now Meredith was not a long term consideration but Suzanne and Ara were. Yet his feelings for them, his unresolved issues with them both did not stop him from fucking several other women. He really was a terrible slut.

Going to see Lilja was something that he had done almost reflexively. Cyprus had been fantastic and the chance to reconnect seemed too good to be true. But it was a long way to go just for a fuck, and truthfully it didn’t seem much more than that. Now sure, visiting Helsinki in the winter was never going to showcase Finland at its finest so there was no point deluding himself as to why he had flown there. It was an unnecessary complication and indulgence. He had done a good job of stopping trying to bed every model that he worked with but on Sunday he was off to spend a week somewhere in the Alps with Renee, Chiara and Heloise.

Andrew tried to still his mind for a long stretch and then used the big old brain to approach it from a different direction. When Ara hailed him in the summer and they reconnected he remembered thinking whether he would have done the same thing. She was delighted to renew their acquaintance and then friendship but Andrew was troubled by his own thoughts. Was he being his usual passive self and accepting the company of a beautiful woman? Because in many ways Ara was both complicated and easy. They had seen each other four or five times over the last five months. There had been no invitations to her flat and things were proceeding very slowly. Yet it was a relationship fraught with too many unspoken thoughts and wishes. What Andrew belatedly realised that winter’s day was the crush was not one way. Sitting in silence in the car he thought about the revelations about sex with Ara. The memorable night when he exploded her ridiculous preconceptions about sex. But the absurd thing was they had only fucked twice, and he had stayed two other evenings where nothing had happened. So five years of drama and attraction and circling around each other and they had done less than he and Lilja managed in one weekend in Helsinki. But Ara appealed to Andrew in a way that he could not even fully understand or explain. And more and more so did Suzanne although in different inexplicable ways.

What a mess.

Recalling his new mantra of not getting caught up in too much teenage angst, and despite being 20 this was very much teenage angst, Andrew turned on some music and pushed all his confused thoughts about women out of his head. And mostly succeeded.

The first part of the evening with Jim and Freya went as expected although Andrew managed to hold it together. The looks they shared at his parent’s comments needed no explanation. But once he had dealt with that then the evening was just a simple catch-up on their respective holidays. Jim spent a long time talking about Moira and her upcoming wedding. They lived independent and separate lives but it was still a significant event, especially as there seemed to be no sign of her returning from Iceland anytime soon. It made him think back to his first meeting with Jim all those years ago, how much had changed since then. He spent the morning of New Year’s Eve 1985 the same as any other day when he stayed in London, running round Regent’s Park and swimming at Marshall Street as usual. After swimming he walked through Soho on the way to Piccadilly Circus. He did stop briefly on Beak Street and looked at the building he was trying to buy but didn’t linger, there was nothing to see and it was too miserable a day to tarry. Andrew went out in the afternoon with his camera but the weather drove him back before long. It was not a day for careful composition.

Andrew’s random impulsive moves had mostly worked out well but he was unsure about the New Year’s Eve gala at the Naval & Military Club. He had asked Jim and Freya to get him a ticket but as they were in the cab on the way to Piccadilly Andrew was second guessing himself. He could have been with Suzanne right then with all that entailed, but instead he was attending an event at a private London club where he was likely to be the youngest person there by who knows how many years.

And as it turned out Andrew was both right and wrong. He was the youngest but it did not really matter because he spent most of the evening getting a living history lesson. The place was full of retired officers from all the services and their attitude was open, friendly and inviting. He was dutifully doing the rounds when he became involved in a conversation with a retired Sapper Captain, Bill Kirkland. He was pushing 70 but still appeared fit and there was no doubt about the sharpness of his mind. But the rest of the evening Andrew spent listening as Kirkland and many friends and colleagues recounted tales from before the Second World War through until very recently. Everyone was welcoming but he retreated to the background and just listened. The tales, places and events bounced around like a pinball, often Andrew would find himself lost for a moment as the tale switched from Arctic convoy duty to the 14^th Army in Burma to counter insurgency operations in Oman. He skipped everything else going on there that night and just sat quietly and watched the camaraderie, the mickey taking between the services, and felt at home. Andrew’s resolve to join the Territorial Army had become fixed in his mind almost to the point of never doubting it or questioning it but nights like that reinforced the resolve. As for the evening, once again his impulsive action had worked out.

Andrew was also considerably more sober than Freya or Jim at 1.30am but managed to get them back to the flat and pointed in the direction of their room without too much incident. The pool was closed so he went for a longer run in the morning knowing he wouldn’t see either of his hosts until much later. When he put on a fresh pot of coffee around 11.00 signs of life were heard and sure enough the two of them shuffled through. A glass of water, a mug of coffee and a bacon sandwich, all given to them in silence, started the detox process and they felt comfortable enough to talk.

“You didn’t drink any more of that Icelandic Black Death stuff did you?”

Jim snorted, and then winced.

“Oh don’t remind me. No it was good old fashioned Scottish poisoning. Too much whisky, followed up with far too much whisky.”

Freya nodded in silent agreement.

“Why are you so unnaturally full of beans this morning?”

“You know me, I rarely get drunk, or at least seriously drunk. I went to the bar a lot last night for some of the older men I was sitting with and skipped several rounds.”

“Yes, we hardly saw you all night Andrew. I was worried you were bored.”

“No, I had a great time. I sat with a bunch of Bill Kirkland’s friends and listened. Hardly said a word all night, just let them reminisce. It was a living history lesson, although the chapters were a bit disorganised.”

He explained about them bouncing all over the place.

“It was really that interesting?”

“I never really knew my grandfathers. One was dead long before I was born and the other died when I was five, I only have limited memories of him. So an evening like that was great, all the men were of an age where they could be my grandfather and all I did was listen. A lot don’t have grandchildren, and those that did, well for a lot of them their families are not interested in stuff like that. That is why they were there. I had done enough history at school to keep up with nearly all of it, although there were several conflicts that I knew nothing about. A long guerilla war in Malaysia was one and I know practically nothing about the Korean War. Like I said it was fascinating and I am glad I went.”

 

Chapter 2

The rest of the day was low key, not unexpected given the fragility of Jim and Freya. They both spoke to Andrew separately checking he was okay after the fight with his parents. But they also did not go on about it either. What came across was support and concern, which just made the contrast even more stark. New Year’s night the three of them went round the corner to the little Trattoria and had a quiet family dinner. The next day Ara phoned late morning and Andrew walked over to see her. Jim and Freya had returned to work and he had been in the flat on his own having returned from his usual morning swim. When Ara opened the door Andrew was invited in for the first time.

“Relax, the place is empty. I don’t expect anyone back until Sunday.”

He followed her through into the shared kitchen and living area. It was a different layout but the same concept as Lilja’s flat in Helsinki. Shyly Ara turned and pulled Andrew towards her kissing him for a long time. The kiss triggered so many memories of his teenage years, the impossibly worldly Ara and everything that she meant to him then. Her look as she approached him may have been shy but her kisses were firm and insistent. Andrew responded to them with passion and he didn’t know how long they stood there in the middle of her living room snogging away. Finally they broke apart and her smile was sparkling.

“In case you weren’t sure, I loved the scarf.”

“If you want to thank me some more…”

Many more seconds passed before they broke apart with a smile and Andrew sat at the kitchen table as Ara prepared some tea.

“I almost came up yesterday. Mother and George were getting on my nerves. Grandfather was down for Christmas so everything was calm and under control but as soon as he left then things changed.”

She stopped and looked at him.

“Shit, I am starting already. Let me get the tea and then we can chat. How was your Christmas?”

Out of the frying pan…

“The time seemed to fly by but that was my own fault, I was there for less than two weeks.”

An answer to a slightly different question. Ara brought the tea over and sat down with him.

“When did you come back down?”

“I got back on Monday evening and went out on Hogmanay with Jim and Freya.”

Ara smiled at that.

“Lord and Lady Barnes to the rest of us.”

Andrew ignored the jibe and looked over at her.

“So things have been tough at home?”

After a big sigh Ara started.

“One of the ways that I coexist with my family, especially Mum, is that I don’t really talk about my doctorate with them, what it actually entails, any of the detail. With Grandfather down staying with us for the holidays I talked about it much more, mainly with him but once or twice the rest of the family were there. Talking with him was great, he asked a lot of really interesting questions and he challenged me on several things. But after he left things changed.”

Ara stopped and took a sip of tea.

“I don’t know whether it was the closeness between Grandfather and me, hearing the reality of life as a PhD student, I don’t know what it was but the last week has been a lot of questioning about why I am doing this, why am I ‘wasting my time’. It was back to where we were two years ago, even further back. I just don’t understand it.”

Ara stood up abruptly and left the room for a few moments before returning back.

“Sorry, it just makes me so mad. Do you know she has started another list? Maybe it is the same list just updated but she produced a list of eligible men from her handbag. It started with Princess Margaret’s son but there were sons of Dukes.”

She stopped suddenly and took a deep breath.

“You don’t need to hear all the details. There were more than 20 men on the list. All first born, all in line to inherit and have a title. Go back 175 years and it could have been something out of a Regency drama. So I needed to escape all the plotting so here I am. And then you turned up, tall and handsome, calm and supportive, you remind me of Grandfather in so many ways.”

Andrew held her in his arms until the tears dried up and then made fresh tea while Ara went through to the bathroom and splashed some water on her face.

“I promised myself I wouldn’t get all emotional when we met and look at me.”

She sounded angry at herself.

“I deluded myself that things had changed when in fact they have not. Pursuing my PhD, in my mother’s view, is a waste of time. Dad doesn’t want to confront her and goes along for a quiet life and George is just an ignorant Neanderthal. Bah.”

She managed to stop herself slamming her fist on the table. But only just.

“Like I said I wasn’t sad to jump on the train this morning. I don’t know when I will go back down and see them. I think I am more likely to go north and see Grandfather than deal with more of that rubbish.”

Ara continued talking for several more minutes until she had it purged from her system. Then she smiled at me.

“Thank you for listening. The support I get from you is hugely important.”

“What about on your course, your professors? Surely it is not just me and your grandfather?”

“No, but they are evaluating my performance, not commenting on doing the doctorate in the first place. I am on track to be awarded it sometime in the middle of 1987, so I am about half way through. There is no way I am giving up now. If I am in London and keeping Mum at a distance then her plotting can come to naught. I just turned 22 though and I don’t get access to my Trust for another three years. I worry about the money and I hope Grandfather is being honest with me when he says he can afford it.”

Andrew managed not to immediately blurt out that she could stay at his house in her final year, but he had to swallow the instinct. Ara was finally done with talking about her parents.

“We got a bit sidetracked there but I really did love the scarf. I wore it up to town this morning. In fact I have been wearing it most days.”

“I am glad you liked it.”

“I felt really guilty I didn’t get you anything.”

Andrew waved away her concern.

“I must admit I didn’t wait until Christmas Day to open it. I did a lot of thinking about you in the run up to Christmas. Even although we have been very low key these last six months I think back to our time in Edinburgh. I think about it a lot. I talked to Gwen about you.”

Andrew waited as he was pretty sure Gwen was not one of his supporters.

“Don’t look like that. You two never got a chance to really meet, talk for any length of time. I think the last time you saw Gwen she was naked on the couch with another woman.”

He smiled and Ara giggled at the memory. Her timing wasn’t completely accurate but the sentiment was the same.

“She knows me better than anyone else and had to deal with all my moods in Edinburgh when we had all our ups and downs. She helps me deal with my frustrations, get them out of my system.”

Ara flushed as soon as she said that Andrew had to work hard to remove the mental picture. He let Ara hurry the conversation along.

“Anyway, it wasn’t a very relaxing break. Enough of my whinging, how was your break.”

Andrew decided not to pry further about Ara and Gwen, much as he was tempted, or try and one-up her with his own tale of woe about his parents so instead talked about how little by little he was slowly moving away from Edinburgh.

“I only spend two weeks there every break now. The rest of the time I am here or in Cambridge. Breaks seem to upset me more than term time. Upset is too strong but there is a sense of stability during term time that is missing when I am moving about during the break. My university friends are all over the place, and none of them are Scottish, so it feels like every time I return there I am taking a step back. I have changed and yet.”

Andrew stopped.

“I don’t know, I will be glad to get back to Cambridge in 10 days. I am happiest when I am studying, when I have a routine.”

He noticed Ara’s face as he said that.

“Don’t look like that, I mean it that I need the stability. Going back to Edinburgh can be tough. It is great to see you for these two or three days but I am off to Paris on Sunday, the start of a long day of travelling. When I get back to Cambridge there is a certainty to the place, even if I am down here seeing you on some of the weekends.”

He could see that Ara started to suspect there was more to his time in Edinburgh than he was letting on but she moved past it.

“I saw you just before your last trip to Paris, how was that trip?”

“Hard work. Yes I know, I am hardly going to get any sympathy but they work me hard when I am there and the last couple of days in particular were long hours.”

He explained about all the different clothes combinations and the endless dressing and undressing.

“Do you get turned on by all the nudity, the closeness to all these bodies?”

Andrew looked at her. He had found talking about his modelling was dangerous, some people were fascinated whereas others became uncomfortable. He had seen that himself with Ara.

“Most of the time no. There is nothing sexy about a 15 stone man four feet away from you as you try to convey lust, desire, romance, whatever they are wanting. That is where I have got much better. I had to really like the other model when I first started doing this whereas now I find it much easier to fake it. But then you see me with one of my friends and the difference is very obvious.”

“You have made friends.”

He nodded.

“That’s it? A nod.”

“I have found that people think they want to hear the details but then it seems to backfire on me. You did not react well to seeing some of the commercials back in November.”

“I know but I am interested in this part of your life. It seems very unlike you and I am surprised that you have made friends with people so very different than you.”

“I am easy to work with and I get on with most of the models, but there is very little time for anything other than the next shot. I have been more friendly with several of the models, just where the shoot has gone well. But yes, I am friends with three of the models, all very different.”

Ara smiled and took his hand.

“Don’t sound so defensive. Will you tell me about them? Why did they make the grade?”

So swallowing his misgivings Andrew took the chance and told Ara about all of his modelling sessions with Heloise, Renee and Chiara. Other than having sex with them he left nothing out.

“They could not be more different. Do they know all about you?”

“No not at all. They know my real name, as opposed to my modelling name, and that I am a student at Cambridge. We write letters back and forth, but life before Cambridge? No, none of them know that.”

“Do any of your friends know all the details?”

“Only one friend at Cambridge knows most of it. She was my date at Julian and Leslie’s wedding and I didn’t want to have to blatantly lie to her and it would have been too complicated. Who knew what, what can you say in conversations, all that sort of thing. As it turned out there was a fair bit of that anyway. So Helena knows everything, okay this is me we are talking about, so not everything but most of it, and one other person knows that I did part of a computer science degree but not that I graduated or about any of the business stuff. She and a third person know about the modelling.”

Andrew shook his head in disgust.

“It is all a complicated mess.”

Ara laughed.

“You have a complicated mess of a life to explain, why are you surprised. Do you think you ever will be comfortable explaining it?”

He pondered that.

“Having two university degrees will be less of an issue once I am finished at Cambridge, time will have passed and although it will always be unusual it will hardly be a big deal any more when I am pushing 30. The money to the Imperial Cancer Research Fund from the Trust? Personally I would prefer that it was never known but if I can survive another 18 months then I will be happy. I expect it to come out some day and the fucking press will make a big deal of it. Leslie is the face of the Trusts so I will do what I need to support her, but if I had my way I would never talk of it again. The modelling is just a phase. When I stop most of the risk of exposure.” Sniggers from both of them. “Will be over.”

“That was a good one. I see your point, it is just stuff from the past. Can I ask about us Andrew?”

Just for a moment Andrew wished he was in Cambridge.

“I think it is overdue that we talk about us. We probably have a lot to talk about.”

They sat looking at each other for a moment before rueful smiles crossed both their faces.

“I have talked about getting to know you as somebody other than a schoolboy crush. You were the only person I ever crushed on when I was at school, the only person I have ever crushed on. The last few months have been trying to get beyond that. It has also been deliberately low key and slow paced.”

“I understand that, and I agree to a point. But you were not a crush rather someone I was drawn to. I found myself looking for you, thinking about you, even before I knew you were a 15 year old schoolboy. And although it took me a while it didn’t stop me even when I did know that you were 16 with two more years of school. I was so happy to reconnect with you in the summer, even if it is only every month or so that we have time together. So I am drawn to you but also have all these doubts, as my meltdown in November showed. Rather than leave a lot of things unsaid and try and guess each other’s feelings I thought we should talk about them.”

Andrew stood up and paced the room trying to get all his thoughts aligned rather than just blurt out the first thing that came into his head. He moved over to the kettle as a cover for a few more moments of thought. Ara watched him until Andrew finally retook his seat.

“I do not think anything serious can happen until I graduate. Other than an occasional weekend I am busy at Cambridge all through term time. And OTC takes up a chunk of the weekends as well. I can be in London two weekends this term then I have six weeks of studying until my exams. After the exams the weekends ease up but I still have two projects to finish for this year’s course. There are 15 weeks of holiday with a week in Edinburgh, two weeks of annual camp for the OTC, 10 weeks of work notionally here in London, a week of modelling and a week back in Edinburgh. Then fourth year which will likely be even busier than this year but will follow the same pattern. And as you saw with my job last summer I don’t have control over where I work.”

Andrew stopped and looked at Ara.

“All of that is my way of saying I don’t know what we have and that I think it makes sense to not try to make it something more than it is. I could be here all summer and we could see each other regularly, if not daily. But I could also be away most of the summer.”

He did his standard shrug.

“I think we keep getting to know one and other better but anything more is premature as the time we have together is so limited during term time and potentially in the breaks as well.”

Ara was smiling, which was encouraging if nothing else.

“You are such an engineer!”

“Eh, okay.”

“That was the most practical, least romantic thing I have ever heard.”

Andrew belatedly recognised that it was time for him to shut up.

“Everything you said makes sense but it was also devoid of much passion or romance.”

She took his hand.

“I am drawn to you Andrew, you unconditionally support me in my dreams of a career, wherever it takes me. I have no idea what that career will be but around you my resolve increases. And then there is the personal stuff. No one has made me feel the way you did in Edinburgh. There have been very few other guys but there was something missing. There is a whole lot I need to talk to you about although now is not the right moment. Tell me how you feel Andrew.”

“I am confused by you Ara. I am not ready to make decisions about my personal life until I graduate. I want to get to know you better, deal with you as an adult, both of us as adults. I remember Leslie mentioned this exact situation. Me 20, and you 22. Not a big deal. We both should graduate about the same time, I will have just turned 22 and you will still only be 23. A world of difference between 15 and at school and 17 and at university. I have changed a lot over these years. We need to spend time together, which is the one thing that is tough. I realise that was not the most romantic summary of our situation but it was a practical one. We need time together, I just laid out the obstacles.”

Of course what was actually going through his mind was Ara, Suzanne, a trip to the Alps in three days, Lilja, even Meredith. Most of those could be untangled without too much problem but if Suzanne decided to risk coming to London this summer and Andrew was assigned there the whole time then the situation would come to a head very quickly. Now was not the time for candour. Ara sighing at him brought him back to the present.

“Come on let’s get out of here. I need some fresh air.”

This was merely a pause but he was grateful to be clutching at straws. They walked for a while before Ara started again.

“Don’t be smug but you are right. I have thought about what you said and what you are saying makes sense.”

She didn’t sound happy. But all complications aside Andrew needed to spend time with Ara as a friend, get to know her better. The next year and a half was going to be hard work, and that was just at Cambridge. The summer job and modelling were complications on top of that. Things thawed out over the course of the afternoon but Andrew went home thinking he had let Ara down somehow.

He realised during his swim the following morning that he had nothing to be sorry for. If there was going to be a future with Ara then it was going to take time. Andrew had seen Suzanne something like 700 days in three years. He knew Suzanne in a way that he just didn’t know Ara. The next two days were slow to get going and had several awkward moments. But for once Andrew was not passive and was comfortable with his approach. He promised to call Ara when he was back at Cambridge and their kiss goodnight was long and passionate.

Andrew was up really early the next morning and headed to Cambridge. He was taking the car up there as it made no sense for it to stay in London when he was in France. The drive up, together with the early morning train back, gave him a chance to think. He pushed aside his slutty nature and focused on Suzanne and Arabella. He needed to figure out what the hell he was doing. The miles and the time didn’t help, he had no idea what the hell he was doing. That Sunday was a day of endless travel. Andrew was back at the flat by 8.00, said his goodbyes to Jim and Freya and headed to Heathrow. Marilyn Gauthier had left a message on the Friday confirming that he needed to be in a town called Chambery by 2.00, French time. He would be met at Chambery airport for the trip to Courcheval. So that January morning Andrew was on the Tube to Heathrow with a short flight to Paris and then a connection to Chambery. From looking at an atlas Courcheval appeared to be 40 miles away, although that was in a straight line, it was probably double that on mountain roads.

He used the flights and waiting around at airports to write some letters. Andrew wrote more letters to his extended family this time, making the effort to keep in touch. Other than that it was his usual correspondents in Scotland as well as Lilja in Helsinki. It filled in the time as he had left his notebooks full of details of explosives and the impact of explosions back at the flat. All joking aside he did not need to have to explain that to some grumpy French policeman. Being used to miserable Scottish weather Andrew was warmly dressed when he stepped off the plane at Chambery. There were no jet-ways so it was down the steps and across the tarmac to the terminal. Michel was standing off to the side when he finally made it into the terminal.

“Ready for a nice relaxing winter break Michel?”

His ‘Pah’ could not have been more disgusted and Gallic but he smiled and they walked over to wait for Andrew’s bag.

“Am I the first one here?”

“You are the last but one. Chiara has landed but has not cleared customs and immigration yet.”

He pointed over to the airport restaurant.

“We are meeting over there.”

And with that he was gone, back towards the international arrivals area. Once Andrew had retrieved his bag he walked over and saw Veronique and Heloise sitting together drinking coffee. Hugs and kisses were exchanged but his bum was barely on the seat before Chiara turned up with Michel trailing along behind her, carrying her luggage. You always knew who was the star with Chiara!

Rather than lead them to the front door and out to cars or a bus Veronique lead them off to the side of the terminal building. Even the most hopeless of French speakers could figure out that ‘l’aviation générale’ was general aviation; they were flying to Courcheval. Now Andrew was hardly a world traveller but he had been in a fair number of planes by this time in his life, including two different types of RAF planes. This was going to be the smallest plane to date. There were two pilots and nine seats. The only luggage were the bags of Heloise, Chiara and Andrew. Veronique and Michel’s luggage had gone with the rest of the crew by road. There was a lot of fussing around and what he was later informed were concerns about weight distribution. Chiara, Veronique and Michel just about were able to fit into their seats although all three had their legs to the side. The space between the seats was really tight. Which left the two giraffes trying to figure out how to safely sit on the plane. Two seats at the back had more leg room because that was where the entry/exit door was. But the pilots didn’t want the two of them perched at the back of the plane, thus the concerns about weight distribution. Eventually everything was agreed but mainly because there was a lot of watch tapping, time was marching on.

Andrew’s 20 minute flight to Courcheval was fascinating, scary, and at the end terrifying, all at the same time. It was the mountains. You land at Heathrow or Turnhouse or Charles de Gaulle and there is nary a mountain to be seen. There are some hills in the distance as you land at Edinburgh but they are hills and they are way off in the distance. At Chambery they were in the mountains, the airport is in a valley with a lake at the end of the runway. They took off out over the lake and climbed as they continued to the north. What was scary was they never got above the tops of the surrounding mountains, they were flying a careful course through mountain valleys. Andrew had never been in a fast fighter jet as it hugged the ground on a training exercise. He had seen them fly over him several times and it was amazing what the RAF pilots were doing. But flying along in a commercial turboprop at 200 miles an hour or whatever speed they were doing was scary enough. It is very disconcerting to see things on the ground by looking up rather than looking down.

So they followed several mountain valleys for 10 or 12 minutes before things really started to get hairy. The plane slowed down slightly and Andrew could see the pilots being very precise and focused. And off in the distance he saw the distinctive parallel tracks of runway lights. Using the 12 hour compass, as he looked out the windscreen of the plane the runway was off to the right, between 1 and 2 o’clock. However, the plane were still flying straight and at that moment in the direction of a mountain. Normal commercial flights tend to have you lined up with the runway miles in advance. Andrew had looked down over the centre of London many times as the plane turned and headed west to Heathrow. This then lets the pilots focus on speed and altitude, follow a well-established glide path. At Courcheval the pilots needed to turn late to line up with the runway, so they had to get height and airspeed sorted before turning to land. And then the final thing, just the cherry on top of this terrifying sundae, was that the runway wasn’t flat. Not even close. The plane landed at the end of the runway which is sloped up the mountain, it was on the side of a mountain after all, and gravity helped slow the plane down. Now it is not a 45 degree angle or anything extreme but it is marked and noticeable. From turning to wheels down seemed like only seven seconds. Andrew had no idea how long it really is but it seemed to be over in a flash. Then it was full reverse thrust as normal all the while leaning back due to the slope of the runway and then they popped up at the end of the sloped runway onto a flat piece of runway before turning away to the apron. Terrifying to normal in length of a very short runway.

Suddenly they were parked at the little terminal area and one of the pilots was negotiating all the legs to get the door open for them. Andrew got out first and then helped the rest climb down from the plane. Heloise held onto his arm.

“Merde, I thought Ajaccio was bad.”

Variations on this theme came from all of them. They grabbed their luggage and headed through the terminal and into the car. It was an old Mercedes G-wagon that looked it had been round the block. Just before they set off down the mountain to the chalet they heard the sound of a plane and then saw the plane they had arrived in head back down the runway. The image that came to mind was ski jumping. When you saw the jumper stand up off the little bench at the top of the slope and start to hurtle down the slope he or she is committed. There is no way to stop, get off, change your mind. This bloody plane looked like the same thing. Despite having a 20 degree downslope to assist in getting the airspeed up, the plane sort of half lurched half fell off the end of the runway. It sank out of sight for a second before they heard, and then finally saw, it appear and fly off normally down the valley back the way it came. Andrew looked at Heloise and Chiara. Were they really going to have to return that way? The three minute drive was silent.

They pulled up outside a chalet and got in out of the cold winter afternoon. After grabbing a hot chocolate everyone sat in the lounge and Veronique filled them in on the plans for the week.

“We have this whole place all week. It is just Michel and I for the filming. Three of Albertine’s staff are here to deal with the clothes and one of them will double up for make up if anyone needs it. They will assist if needed on the indoor shoots, hold an additional light or a reflector for instance. This is a low key intimate shoot. The resort was packed for the last two weeks over Christmas and New Year but this week is about as low season as it gets. The weather is the coldest and it is right after the holidays. The Courcheneige is a five minute walk away so we can escape the chalet sometimes. Heloise, Chiara you are here until Wednesday morning, shooting tomorrow and Tuesday. Two more models arrive on Tuesday night and they will shoot on Wednesday and then three more on Wednesday for the last two days of shooting. The theme of this week is fun and glamour. There are some wonderful outfits for all the ladies.”

Andrew’s room was small but at least the bed was long enough. The place was functional and it was warm. He had little to unpack and so was the first one back down to the lounge. He looked around and wandered through to the kitchen. The fridge was full of white wine and breakfast food, an interesting combination. Dinner looked like it was going to be out somewhere in the resort. Someone had made a large pot of hot chocolate for when they arrived and there was still some left. So Andrew carefully poured some more and sat thinking about the coming week. Veronique arrived to interrupt his mental doodlings.

“There you are. This will be another busy week for you. Marilyn arranged that there was insurance for you if you skied. Will you try for me?”

Marilyn had told Andrew about the insurance.

“Sure if you need it as part of the shoot. But I have never tried for even a single minute so I don’t know how long, if at all, it will take me to be able to get the hang of it to look convincing.”

“There is a wide green run, the gentlest and easiest kind, right behind the chalet. 20 paces of walking. On the other side of the run is the Courcheneige Hotel. It has a magnificent patio, it catches the afternoon sun, and it is big, always busy with skiers at the end of the day. A lot of what I want from you is looking like a skier rather than action shots of you being a skier. You are creating an illusion, I will edit out all the falls.”

They both laughed at her words.

“Sure, I will do whatever I can.”

“There will be more public shots this time. Michel will film you and the ladies on patios, at hotels, restaurants, shopping, just being out and about. That is why there are three people here for the clothes. There will be a lot of changing outfits as usual.”

He shrugged.

In the first week of 1986 Courcheval 1850, there were four resorts which were differentiated by their height in metres, was quiet. The French had gone home after the Christmas break, it was the quietest week of the season for foreign tourists, especially the British. What all this meant for them was that the town was quiet and they were able to get reservations for dinner without any problem.

What it meant for Andrew was a three day taste of life as a top model. Not him as a top model but him standing beside two top models. The modelling shoots themselves were not a problem. His athletic inability carried over to winter sports and he was a crap skier but could look the part which is all that was needed. Chiara and Heloise went up to the Hotel with Andrew carrying their skis for them, and they were filmed on the deck which was as fabulous as Veronique described. And they managed to get back to the chalet without hurting themselves or getting in the way of anyone else. They did the trip four times over two days and Andrew used both his skiing outfits and the ladies used all four of theirs. All that was standard modelling stuff. Show the Hermès apparel and look beautiful, again them not him. On the Tuesday evening they filmed in a bedroom of one of the hotels right in the centre of the town, with a wonderful picture window. At night the ski slopes out on the mountain were outlined and faintly lit with the lift lights and the headlights of the pisté machines off in the distance.

Of course that meant they had to slide the window back so that Michel’s camera light did not reflect off the glass. Try to convey warm cozy lust with a beautiful woman when you are both freezing; Andrew really was becoming better at modelling. But they had the fire blazing as hot as possible and it was dealt with quickly and then the window and the curtain were closed and it was the usual romp around on the rug in front of the fire. As far as he could see, and nobody told him anything, Veronique was going for a consistency of message, almost a theme to the commercials while trying to make them different in subtle ways. Andrew was not the filmmaker or the marketing person so did what he was asked.

They had covered the signature comedy moment earlier in the day. Veronique hired three locals and while everyone was out had them build a whole series of snowmen at the back of the chalet. When they left the Hotel patio and skied the 100 metres or so back to the chalet Veronique had them ski down the trail rather than take their skis off and walk. What was at the bottom of the trail? A snowman. Each of them were filmed skiing head first into the snowman, exploding the snow everywhere. Andrew only saw the commercials months later but the looks on their faces were hilarious. He was not sure what the look was, determined terror maybe, but it was the light-hearted moment that Veronique wanted. It also involved trying to stay on the trail and not miss the bloody thing while clearly showing a strong desire to be somewhere else. Other than some snow down the back of his neck it was fine. Goodness only knows what the locals made of all these crazy antics. They had to push the remains aside, roll a new base, body and head into position and watch someone else ski into it. Six times in total, two each. And during that day of shooting the three of them did everything together. If Andrew was rolling around on the rug with Chiara then Heloise was behind Veronique watching, and vice versa. So the two days of shooting were fun, silly and hard work as usual.

Where this trip was different to the shoots in Paris was the night time. Andrew had dined out with Chiara several times over the many trips and although she was recognised she was not bothered. This time it was different. Both Chiara and Heloise were celebrities, and people were excited to see them. Andrew was torn between leaving them to it, ducking out and avoiding the whole thing altogether; and staying and making sure they were okay and nobody crossed a line. Sunday night was fine and Monday night was okay as well, as they were all tired and had to shoot the next day. But the Tuesday night was the last night for the two of them and they wanted to hit the town, and go to a club.

 

Chapter 3

They all had their own rooms in the chalet although Chiara had stayed in Andrew’s on both Sunday and Monday nights. But sex with her was different that time. During the day they been funny and flirty and Veronique had been pleased with the shots. They were becoming better friends but not better lovers. It would be nine months before Andrew saw her again and as they lay there on the Monday night it felt like it was a coda. Chiara was a stunning model, 30 years old now but with an incredible body, but there had always been something missing and it was even more obvious that night. Andrew thought about it the following morning standing looking out of the chalet window in the dark before dawn. Heloise had not said anything about wanting to sleep with him. It made no difference to the playfulness between them and the fun they had during the two days of shooting. Her interactions with him were no different than those of Chiara. They were both naked in his arms repeatedly over the two days but the personal and professional were separated. And that was the thing, he would have traded a night of sex with Chiara for just holding Heloise as they slept

When they returned to the chalet from shooting at the hotel on the Tuesday evening the next two models had arrived. Andrew was pleasantly surprised to see Mathilde there along with a model he had never met before. Her name was Jeanne and she was 5’9” or 10”, just your typical tall beautiful model. She spoke no English so they had to make do with Andrew’s heavily accented, and limited, French. As it was the final night for Heloise and Chiara they were keen to go into town and go clubbing. Veronique reminded him that he had three more long days of shoots still to do, not that he was much of a clubber anyway. He would have been more happy staying with Mathilde and Veronique but as it was he ended up with Jeanne, Chiara and Heloise in a cab for the two minutes down into the centre of town.

It felt like the night with Aino, Kerttu and Lilja in Ayia Napa, three tall women and him. None of the places were packed, it was too early in the season for that, but there were still lots of people who had been going hard for four or five hours since coming off the slopes. Before they went to a club they stopped to grab a drink first at a bar. It was a standard tourist resort bar, full of drunks. The problems started with a couple of Italians who recognised Chiara. Initially they were all flowery and over the top but they didn’t or wouldn’t take the hint. They kept insisting that they wanted to buy Chiara a drink. Andrew had stayed back, Chiara was better able to handle people like that than he ever would be plus he couldn’t speak Italian but he was on edge. He kept thinking back to the night he and Justin were in Brighton and the sense of an edge to the atmosphere. Nothing overt but just that feeling that violence was not far below the surface.

What triggered it that night? One of the Italians called Chiara a whore for being naked on TV when she wouldn’t accept a drink from him. From oily charm to abuse in the space of five minutes. That idiocy got him a drink in his face from Chiara, he then tried to hit her, and fortunately missed, at which point a ‘gallant’ defender took it upon himself to attack the Italian and then it was chaos. With drunken punches being thrown in all directions all three women immediately took refuge behind Andrew at the end of the bar. Given his record in fights he was steering well clear of everything and just hoping not to get involved. Fat chance.

It was a broken bottle that got him. Andrew was lucky, okay not that lucky, but lucky in that he saw the bottle flying through the air and was able to raise his arm so that it smashed on his hand, to protect his face. He ended up with only one cut but it was a deep gash on his right pinkie finger. The bottle hitting him coincided with the gendarmes arriving. Given that there were 11 drunks scattered about the floor still trying to hit each other, Andrew and the three models were not the priority. After about 20 minutes they were allowed to leave with Andrew pressing his blood soaked handkerchief against the throbbing cut on his hand. What stopped the night spinning completely out of control was a travelling medical kit and the fact that one of the ladies in charge of all the clothes was handy with a needle and thread, in this case on Andrew’s finger not a replacement button. So he was patched up with two stitches and able to head to bed. He was lucky as it could have been much worse. It was also another lesson in trusting his senses. And this was the price of fame for the women, being pestered by drunk men who wouldn’t take a gentle brush-off. Fuck, women didn’t have to be famous to have to deal with that but the night had been made worse by the insult thrown at Chiara. He heard the door open and a familiar, tall thin model slipped into his bed and climbed onto him.

“Just hold me for a few more minutes Andrew.”

He did as requested but then Heloise started kissing him. There was something in the kisses that night that provoked a reaction but Heloise just groaned and ground herself against him. Eventually she broke the kiss.

“That was a mess tonight. I am sorry you got hurt.”

He shrugged.

“We didn’t think it would be like that up here on a Tuesday night. If I go out to a club in Paris or any other big city there is always lots of security. I don’t hang around ski bars, any kind of bars, normally. Are you okay?”

“I am fine. My finger hurts a bit but other than that I am fine. I am sorry your night out was a bust.”

“I was surprised you let Chiara handle it.”

A semi-accusation hiding a question.

“Chiara likes the fame. And sadly she probably has a lot of experience of dealing with arsehole guys. She is her own person and I was there to help if she wanted. She can handle things, she doesn’t need me to rush around making things worse. If she had cuddled up to me and wanted to play the girlfriend then I would have done more but it all escalated so fast. I don’t speak Italian and it was only while waiting to leave that she told me what was said.”

“You wouldn’t step in automatically?”

“If a man, or men, came up and talked to you, offered to buy you a drink? No. If you turned back to me and took my arm and someone keeps pestering you then I would say or do something. But both of you like being famous, and being seen is part of that. I don’t know how to react in situations like that.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way. I suppose you are right. Both Chiara and I are well known and often do talk to people. But when the punches started we all hid behind you, and you were the one that ended getting cut from the bottle.”

Heloise kissed him again.

“I loved that you protected me, it has made me all horny, and now frustrated on top of everything else.”

Andrew stretched his arm to see if it was long enough.

“Did you bring your present?”

Heloise giggled.

“I never go out of town without it.”

“Go and get it.”

She looked quizzical for a moment before slipping next door to her room, not bothering to put any clothes on. Andrew wrapped up, just to save making a mess. Heloise looked taken aback when she saw him wearing the condom.

“Relax, it is just to contain the mess. Climb back up and then get yourself into position so that your clit is pressing down on it. Give me that.”

It took a minute or two for everything to align properly but Heloise had Andrew’s cock trapped between their bodies, her clit pressing down on it. Andrew’s long reach meant that he could insert her little dildo and start kissing her. It wasn’t flesh and blood in her but it was Andrew holding her and kissing her and fucking her with her dildo. Heloise groaned and moaned into his mouth through three quick climaxes. She had been right, she was horny. After she came the third time Heloise rolled onto her back beside him. Andrew could see the tears in her eyes. Nothing needed to be said, he just held her and let her emotions settle. Soon he heard her breathing settle, she was asleep.

Andrew woke up to a familiar small breast and hard nipple in his hand. He could tell Heloise was awake as she wriggled against him stabbing herself repeatedly. With a gentle giggle Heloise let him get up and when he returned from the toilet lay in bed watching him as he did his sit ups and push ups. Once he was finished she grabbed a pillow and threw it on the floor. Andrew always imagined he saw many things in the eyes and faces of the women on their knees in front of him. Helena and Suzanne were past masters at stirring his imagination. Heloise that morning gave him a loving blow job. There would be no fucking, despite both their desires, but the looks she gave him were wonderful. Andrew, as usual, did not last long under her ministrations. When Heloise finished swallowing everything she just knelt there for a moment, his dick softening in her mouth, her eyes closed. With a sad smile she pushed herself up and followed him to the bathroom. They shared his toothbrush and then Heloise kissed Andrew slowly and sensuously.

“I should have been here on Monday night as well. I miss talking to you Andrew. Write regularly and maybe we can meet in London sometime soon. September is a long time away.”

Wednesday was a slow start, with lots of repeated explanations to different people. But Veronique was a relentless taskmistress and they were soon back out on the slopes. The plan was for Andrew to play the cad, twice. They were using the scenario he had jokingly suggested to Manon months earlier. In the first, he was the mother’s much younger boyfriend who was seduced by her daughter and in the second the roles were reversed. He was the daughter’s boyfriend who was seduced by her mother. Either way he was making out like a bandit!

What made the scenario work was that Mathilde was genuinely old enough to play the mother and she loved the idea. She had Jeanne in blushing giggles the whole day, goodness only knows what secrets were being shared. But the chemistry between Mathilde and Andrew was excellent and Jeanne got to watch and see how they were. Mathilde was as awful a skier as he was so for both of them getting the shots outside the chalet were the tough scenes. When it came time to frolic around on the rug in front of the fire they were relaxed and just had fun. When the pre-ravishing in front of the fire was over Mathilde was dressed and out the chalet in a hurry. It was only later at dinner that Andrew found out why.

Jeanne had been modelling for more than five years and so had a lot of experience. But she had only done shoots involving nudity on her own and obviously had just started, given her age. Just like Renee Andrew was the first man that she was going to be filmed with. Veronique recognised this and didn’t push Jeanne too hard. Boiling the frog slowly worked and by the end of the afternoon the two of them were rolling around without a care. Sitting in his robe after the shoot was finished Andrew was having a quiet moment when Veronique came over and sat beside him.

“Thank you for turning up the sexy today Andrew.”

He looked at her in surprise.

“Did you not realise?”

“I had no idea. I thought I was the same as usual. Was it okay?”

“Andrew, it was great. The shoots with you are normally all about the woman, you play off of whoever your female co-star is and let them shine. Today was more about you. There was a decisiveness to you and it was as if you were taking what you wanted. I have shot all your commercials, it is quite different to your usual style.”

“Are Mathilde and Jeanne okay with it?”

Veronique laughed.

“They are both taking cold showers right now trying to calm down. You very thoroughly seduced them both. Now given that was what the scenario was that is to be applauded. You did what I asked but there was more sex, more lust, less romance. Like I said, it was great.”

Andrew didn’t quite know how to react to Veronique’s statement. Maybe he needed a cold shower too. Dinner that night was hilarious for about four separate reasons. The first and best one was the arrival of Renee Clement. It was just as well he was ready for her as she took off from six feet away and crashed into his arms. All 5’ of exuberant sexiness. He nearly dragged her off to his bedroom straightaway. But she was not alone. Reasons two and three were standing behind her as she had turned up with 19 year old twins, Lena and Lola. They managed to look nervous and mischievous both at the same time. But there was a playful, giggly vibe about them. The next two days were going to be fun. The final reason was the most odd, awkward and eye-opening of them all. When they arrived at the restaurant for dinner Mathilde turned up with her husband. Her worn out, bedraggled husband. His opening line to Andrew when he walked over to shake his hand?

“Merci, Andrew. Whatever you did, thank you.”

There was laughter and cheering at the table and Mathilde looked radiant but Andrew was taken aback. All he could think of was thank goodness he didn’t know in advance that Pierre would be there. He led Andrew to the table and sat down beside him.

“First of all, allow me to introduce myself, Pierre Dubois. By your reaction I presume I am the first husband or partner of one of the models that you have met?”

Andrew nodded not yet trusting his voice.

“We will talk over the course of the night and more will become clear but just think about trust. If the woman you love works in a job where she is naked with another man, do you trust her or not? Everything else is just fancy wrapping paper. If you trust her, as I trust Mathilde, then what is the problem? I don’t know exactly what the two of you did today that got her so worked up but as her husband I want to thank you. Come, let us join the others and enjoy dinner.”

The first part of the dinner was nothing but a blur. Andrew ate, was made fun of, just a normal night out for him. His thoughts bounced around but Pierre’s words sunk in. He trusted his wife to go so far and no further and reaped the rewards, as he alluded to about that very afternoon. Andrew remember Joelle saying the same thing after the shoot with her in the dress. She all but ran off to find her boyfriend. But he didn’t need to go so far. Tony and Donnie trusted Andrew. Any number of men trusted Andrew to be professional and respectful to the women he was photographing. And for all of the ever-increasing explicitness of Maggie’s pictures he had never laid a hand on her, other than hugs and kisses. He definitely couldn’t say the same thing about Mathilde. Andrew knew how Mathilde’s breasts felt, how her arse felt, how the inside of her thighs felt. Mathilde had been thoroughly felt up! And as he watched Pierre and Mathilde to his young eye they were a couple happily in love. It must be an odd dinner table conversation when you asked about each other’s day but it was by no means rare. Andrew thought about all the ‘love scenes’ in movies over the years. He was a huge James Bond fan going back to Britt Ekland and Maud Adams in The Man with the Golden Gun, and every one of the movies had Connery or Moore rolling around with multiple different women. It took meeting Pierre for it to all join up in his head. The different pieces were all there he just had not joined them up.

“Welcome back.”

Andrew looked round at Renee as she squeezed his hand.

“You have had a distracted faraway look in your eyes all meal.”

“I am sorry if I have not been a good dinner table companion.”

“No it has been fascinating to watch. Chiara, Heloise and I are not close friends although we are much more friendly now than 18 months ago. When we do run into each other we will talk about working with you, it is the one thing that we have in common, and we also know that we all write to you between shoots. I think it was Chiara that brought up your intelligence first just in the context of you must be bright to be a student at Cambridge. And it is something that is always lurking in the back of all our conversations. I know from the gossip with the other women that a lot of the ideas for these Hermès shoots came from you. Salome with the scarves, the push ups with me under you, that insane wall lift. I watched you tonight and I could see you thinking. It just made me remember that you are very clever and were obviously working some things out in your mind.”

He smiled at her.

That was a preview of Living Two Lives - Book 19. To read the rest purchase the book.

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