French Kissing

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French Kissing Page 12

by Lynne Shelby


  ‘You made it easy for me,’ I said.

  ‘I hope I did. It’s important for a photographer and his model to have a good rapport. His or her model, I should say. Particularly as I learnt most of what I know about photography from a woman.’

  ‘Caroline?’

  ‘Yes. I like to think I can pass on the skills she taught me to my own assistants.’ As always, when he talked about photography, Alex’s eyes shone. ‘Lou, for instance, has the makings of a good photographer. She has much to learn, but she is an eager student, and I never have to tell her something more than once. It will be my pleasure to help her, the way Caroline helped me.’

  I said, ‘I wish I felt about my job the way you do about yours. Not that I don’t like working at Nova Graphics – but it isn’t my passion. Do you know what I mean?

  ‘Yes, I do. There are times when I find it hard to believe that people actually pay me money to take photographs. I’m very fortunate.’ He got to his feet, and picked up his laptop and camera case. ‘We should make a move.’

  ‘Sure.’ I took a last look around the studio. ‘Where’s the rose?’

  ‘I threw it away.’

  ‘That rose was a gift from my lover! A red rose – the symbol of true love. And you threw it away?’

  Alex laughed. ‘Je suis désolé.’

  ‘I don’t know why you’re laughing, Alexandre Tourville.’ I smiled at him, and he smiled back.

  ‘Let’s get home, Anna. I’m going out later, but I’d like to make a start on editing your photos tonight.

  As soon as we were back at my flat, Alex vanished inside his bedroom, dismissing my suggestion that I watch him edit the photos with a firm shake of his head. I went into the living room, and managed to read Verity Holmes’ novel for a whole twenty minutes before going and knocking on his door.

  ‘Would you like a coffee?’ I said.

  ‘Non, merci.’

  ‘Some wine?’

  ‘Go away, Anna.’

  With a sigh, I returned to my book.

  It must have been nearly two hours later when Alex came into the living room and set down his laptop on the dining table.

  ‘Now, you may see,’ he said. ‘This is not the only good photo of you that I shot this afternoon, but it is, I think, the best.’ He pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit.

  I looked at the screen and saw that it was filled with a black and white photograph of me reclining languidly on the brass bed. I was obviously naked, the white sheet barely covering my hips, the swell of my breasts clearly visible above the arm that I’d flung carelessly across my body. A smile played about my mouth, as I looked dreamily at the rose. The scene was bathed in a pale light, suggestive of the early morning.

  My voice came out as a whisper, ‘The photograph … It’s beautiful … sensual … exquisite. Oh, Alex.’

  ‘You are beautiful.’

  ‘In this photo, I am.’

  ‘Let me show you some of the others.’ Alex leant over my shoulder, and brought up more of the photos that he’d taken that afternoon. I studied each of them, the full-lengths and the close-ups, the photos of me naked and the others where I was wearing the shirt, and to my delight, I realised that I looked beautiful in every one of them.

  ‘These photos are amazing,’ I said. ‘You’ve made me look wonderful.’

  ‘I’m glad you like them. I hope Nick does too.’

  Nick. Until that moment, I hadn’t given a thought as to how he might feel about my stripping off for a photographer. Or how he might react if that photographer were Alex.

  Nick could not find out about these photographs – I couldn’t face another row.

  ‘You’re frowning,’ Alex said. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘It’s just that – I don’t think Nick would be very happy if he discovered that his girlfriend had been posing for photos without any clothes on. I didn’t even tell him about the shoot.’

  Alex raised his eyebrows. ‘I didn’t realise Nick was so uptight. Or is it just that he’s English?’

  ‘Don’t joke, Alex, this is important. I think these photos are works of art, but Nick wouldn’t see them that way. So please don’t show them to him. Or anyone else.’

  ‘I won’t, if you don’t want me to.’

  ‘Thank you. Merci.’

  Alex gave a very Gallic shrug. ‘I wouldn’t want a photograph I’d taken to cause problems between you and Nick.’

  ‘When you were photographing me, I got so caught up in the moment, I didn’t think it through.’

  ‘Don’t worry about it. I understand. I’ll email you copies of the photos I’ve edited, and you can print off any that you want.’ He grinned. ‘You can always hide them somewhere your jealous boyfriend won’t find them.’

  ‘That is so not funny.’ I couldn’t help smiling.

  ‘It so is.’ Alex stretched, and looked at his watch. ‘I have to go out. An American friend of mine, a photo-journalist, is in London for a couple of days, and I’ve said I’ll meet him for a drink. Would you like to come too? He’s an interesting man.’

  I hesitated. The thought of spending the rest of the evening in the company of Alex and his photo-journalist friend was very tempting, but I was expecting Nick to come round after he’d finished work. Briefly, I considered texting him and telling him not to come.

  I can’t tell Nick I’d rather go for a drink with Alex and a total stranger than spend time with him, I thought.

  ‘I’d love to meet your interesting American, but I can’t tonight. My jealous boyfriend is working late, but he’s coming on here afterwards.’

  ‘I’ll say goodnight, then. You’ll probably be asleep by the time I get back.’

  ‘Bonne nuit,’ I said. ‘Just so you know, mon ami, I enjoyed modelling for you today.’

  ‘I enjoyed photographing you,’ Alex said.

  An hour or so after Alex had gone out, leaving me alone, I was lying on the sofa reading the last chapter of Verity Holmes’ novel, when I had a phone call from Nick. Whatever it was that he and his hand-picked team were working on (he did tell me, but I’d no idea what he was talking about) was still not completed to his satisfaction. He couldn’t see himself getting away from his desk much before midnight.

  ‘It’s best I don’t come over to your place tonight,’ Nick said. ‘I have to be back in the office very early in the morning. The Frankfurt team are flying in tomorrow, and I need to set up for my presentation.’

  If he’d phoned an hour earlier, I could have gone out with Alex.

  ‘I hope you don’t mind,’ Nick said, but I did.

  Through gritted teeth, I said, ‘It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. I know this … assignment … you’re doing is important.’

  ‘It’s a huge project. If it goes well, it could mean a promotion.’

  ‘That’s good,’ I said. ‘I mean, that’s great.’

  ‘I’ll see you on Saturday.’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. As an afterthought, I added, ‘Good luck with your presentation.’

  ‘Thanks –’ He broke off to listen to something another person was saying. ‘OK, I’ll be right with you – Anna, I’m going to have to say goodnight.’

  ‘Night,’ I said, but he’d already ended the call.

  I could have been with Alex right now.

  I picked up my book and opened it.

  If I’d prefer a night out with a friend to a night in with my boyfriend, what did that say about my and Nick’s relationship? I tried to read the last few pages of my book, but the words swam before my eyes.

  What did I feel for Nick?

  My hand shook, and the book slid from my grasp. On trembling legs, I stood up, went over to the window, and stared unseeing out into the street.

  Did I love him?

  I cast my mind back over the last year – almost a year and a half – that Nick and I’d been together to the day we’d met, remembering how delighted I’d been to discover that the tall, good-looking man seated next to me at my old friend
Polly’s wedding was single. Having chatted and danced with him for most of the reception, I’d flushed with pleasure when he asked me to have dinner with him the following week. I’d been on some truly awful dates since I’d last been in a steady relationship, and it’d been wonderful to be wined and dined by an intelligent, well-mannered man like Nicholas Cooper. Soon we were seeing each other two or three times a week, and after a month or so, when he asked if he could stay the night, I’d no hesitation in saying yes. It was a couple of months later that he’d told me he loved me. I’d been so happy that night, contentedly drifting off to sleep in my boyfriend’s arms …

  I tried to recall the last time being with Nick had made me feel completely content. I honestly couldn’t remember.

  Sixteen

  On Saturday evening, Nick arrived at my place with an Indian takeaway, which we ate sitting opposite each other at my dining table, while he talked about his presentation to his German colleagues.

  ‘It went even better than I expected,’ he said. ‘Nothing’s been confirmed, but my chances of promotion are looking pretty good at the moment.’

  ‘I’m so pleased for you.’ I was, but no more pleased than I would be for any one of my friends who’d told me they’d got a promotion at work.

  ‘It’ll also mean a significant increase in my salary, of course,’ Nick said.

  ‘I’m sure it’s well-deserved.’ Was it love I felt for him? Or was it that I was just used to being half of a couple?

  ‘More money for us to spend on trips abroad like our holiday in Mexico.’

  ‘Mmm.’ If I don’t love him, I wondered, how can I spend two weeks with him in a luxury resort?

  ‘Do you want that samosa?’ Nick said.

  ‘No, you have it.’ I’d only eaten half my chicken tikka, but I no longer had any appetite.

  Nick said, ‘I know some people claim that having a well-paying job isn’t important to them, but I happen to believe it is.’

  He sounded so pompous. How had I never noticed before? Maybe I was blinded by love. And maybe now I wasn’t.

  Nick said, ‘A man who doesn’t have a career structure or a guaranteed income can’t possibly plan for the future the way he should. Take your friend Alexandre, for instance: working freelance, he’ll never be financially secure.’

  ‘Alex does OK. More importantly, he’s doing something he feels passionate about. Photography is more than a job to him – it’s part of who he is.’

  ‘Well, perhaps it’s different for creative types, but I couldn’t live the way he does.’

  ‘No, I don’t suppose you could,’ I said. ‘More biryani?’

  Nick proceeded to spend the rest of the meal re-enacting his presentation. I pushed my food around my plate.

  Later, while I cleared the table, Nick, without asking what I wanted to do for the rest of the evening, switched on the TV, flicking through the channels until he found the football. Smothering my irritation, I went and stacked the dishwasher, made coffee, and counted slowly to ten before re-joining him on the sofa. Unexpectedly, he put his hand on my thigh.

  ‘The match’ll be over in twenty minutes,’ he said, never taking his eyes off the screen. ‘Then we’ll go to bed.’

  Was he planning on us having sex tonight? For the first time in my life, I was tempted to tell a man I was sleeping with that I had a headache.

  I lay on my back staring up at the shadows on the ceiling. Nick, lying beside me, was snoring. I elbowed him in the ribs, and he stopped. I turned onto my side. It was just light enough for me to make out his features. He looked younger with his face relaxed in sleep. Did I love him? An hour or so earlier, when he’d got into bed and reached for me, I hadn’t feigned tiredness or told him I wasn’t in the mood, but pulled him to me and held him desperately tight while he banged away on top of me. It wasn’t the worst sex I’d ever had, but when he’d rolled off me and gone straight to sleep, all I’d felt was relief.

  The sound of the front door opening and shutting told me that Alex had just come in. He’d been going out that night with a bunch of guys from The Edge’s art department (for someone who’d only been living in London a couple of months, he’d certainly established an impressive social life), but as far as I could tell from the footsteps in the hall, he’d come home alone. Suddenly, I wanted desperately to talk to him, to talk through my feelings towards Nick, and to ask his advice. I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. Nick stirred and muttered, but didn’t wake up. I sat very still, as the thought came to me that talking to Alex about Nick, when Nick so patently disliked him, would be incredibly disloyal to my boyfriend. There were enough things that I’d shared with Alex that Nick knew nothing about, without my adding to them. If I stayed with Nick, if I wanted to make our relationship work, I would have to start putting him before anyone else in my life, including Alex. If I stayed with Nick.

  Seventeen

  ‘Did you have a good weekend?’

  I looked up from my computer screen to see Alfie hovering in front of my desk, his earphones dangling from his hand.

  No, I did not have a good weekend, but I didn’t want the whole of Nova Graphics to know that I was having serious doubts about my relationship with my long-term boyfriend.

  ‘Yes, thanks.’

  ‘What did you do? Go out with Nick?’

  ‘I did see him, but we didn’t go out. He’s had a lot on at work recently, so we spent most of Saturday and Sunday relaxing in front of the TV. What about you?’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t do anything much, either,’ Alfie said. ‘Did you see Alexandre over the weekend?’

  I raised my eyebrows. ‘He lives in my flat so do I tend to see him occasionally.’

  Alfie shifted his weight from one foot to the other. ‘I’ve been wanting to ask you something about Alexandre. Well, not so much about Alexandre as about him and Izzy. She hasn’t talked about him in days. Do you know why?’

  I glanced towards the other end of the office where Izzy, a smile of satisfaction playing about her mouth, was engrossed in designing a new menu for a Greek restaurant. Since the debacle of our trip to the National Gallery, she seemed to have recovered completely from her infatuation – and her embarrassment. Only that morning, I’d been thinking how much I preferred working with her now that she’d stopped mooning over Alex and was back to her normal bubbly self.

  I said, ‘Izzy has decided that Alex isn’t boyfriend material.’

  ‘Really?’ Alfie’s face lit up. ‘Do you think I might stand a chance with her?’

  Izzy had never given me any indication that she viewed Alfie as anything more than a guy she happened to work with. There again, she’d never said that she didn’t find him attractive.

  Choosing my words with care, I said, ‘Izzy’s the only person who can answer that.’

  Alfie sighed. ‘I really want to ask her out on a date, but if she turns me down, it’s going to make working with her very awkward.’

  ‘Then why don’t you keep it casual? Invite her to go for coffee or a drink after work – as a friend. Spend some time alone with her. See what comes of it. No pressure.’

  Alfie pondered this for a while, and then he said, ‘I may just do that. If I can find the right moment.’ He turned to go, but then he turned back to me. ‘Thanks for the advice, Anna. It’s good to get a female perspective.’

  I watched him walk over to his desk. Izzy looked up at him and smiled. He smiled back, before sitting down, and switching on his computer. I could easily imagine them as a couple.

  Ignoring a sudden impulse to march over to Alfie and tell him to get this act together, I went to meet Beth for lunch.

  ‘You did what?’ Beth stared at me wide-eyed.

  ‘I took off my clothes.’

  ‘Have I got this right? Alex says he wants to photograph you naked, so you whip your kit off?’

  ‘Shh.’ I glanced around the coffee shop. The two men at the next table were obviously listening to our conversation with great interest. Lower
ing my voice, I said, ‘Alex is a professional photographer. I decided that posing nude for him was no different to posing for any other artist.’

  ‘Wasn’t it hideously embarrassing?’

  ‘To be honest, I did feel awkward at first, but once I relaxed, I liked it. I felt good about myself, and my body.’

  ‘Anna Mitchel!’

  ‘Have I shocked you?

  ‘Yes. No. I don’t know. Taking your clothes off for a photo shoot is pretty daring. Should I be shocked?’

  ‘See for yourself.’ I fished the photo that Alex liked best, the one of me with the rose, out of my bag. ‘This is mine and Alex’s favourite. It’s a very sensual image –’

  ‘When you say sensual, do you mean erotic?’

  ‘I guess some people might describe it as mildly erotic, but only because of the story it tells and the way Alex lit the set. There’s nothing explicit about it.’ I passed the photo to Beth.

  ‘Oh,’ she gasped. ‘You look amazing.’

  ‘That was my reaction – even if I say it myself.’

  ‘The way you were talking, I thought it would be X-rated, but this is beautiful.’ She hesitated, and then she added, ‘Isn’t it weird though, being around Alex after that photo shoot, knowing that he’s had an eyeful?’

  ‘No. Not at all.’

  Beth said, ‘I’m not a prude, honestly I’m not, but I could never pose naked for a photographer. I’d be far too shy. Besides, Rob wouldn’t like it. I’m surprised Nick didn’t mind.’

  ‘Nick doesn’t know.’

  Beth stared at me.

  ‘The way he feels about my friendship with Alex, I didn’t even tell him about the shoot. I’m certainly not going to show him the photos. I don’t want another row.’

  ‘But – I’m not judging you – but why did you let Alex take pictures of you, if you knew it would upset your boyfriend?’

  ‘When I was in the studio, when Alex was photographing me, I wasn’t thinking about Nick.’

  Beth gave me a searching look, and laid the photo down on the table. ‘Anna, I know I’ve asked you this before, but are you and Nick still solid?’

 

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