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Chapter 29
The nerves are back with a vengeance as I ring the back doorbell of Toby’s studio at two fifteen. I’ve pulled the hoodie as far forward as it will go and I’m wearing the sunglasses. It’s not the greatest of disguises, but I just need it to get me past the threshold. My heart leaps with joy as he opens the door and I see him for the first time. He looks well, but his face falls when he sees me and, for a moment, I wonder if I’ve completely misjudged this and made a colossal mistake.
“Madison, you can’t be here. I’m waiting for a client,” he says, woodenly. So much for the disguise then. This going off the rails before I’ve even had a chance to get out of the starting blocks. With no other options to choose from, I decide to remain in character. Hopefully it will keep him off guard for long enough to get me inside.
“Who is this Madison? I am Kristina. I haff appointment,” I tell him, using my ridiculous accent. He looks completely dumbfounded, and I use the opportunity to sweep regally past him into the studio. He’s laid out the consent form on a table, and I slap down the three hundred pounds next to it, while hastily signing Kristina’s name on the forms. Toby follows me, obviously completely confused.
“Madison, I don’t understand. What’s going on?”
“Name is Kristina!” I tell him again. “You are going to take photos of me. Vairy private photos.” I rummage in my bag and fish out the memory card.
“Put this in camera. You give it to me when we finish. This way I am sure I haff only copies.”
I don’t know how, but he manages to look sceptical, baffled and annoyed all at the same time. I’m certain he’s going to ask me to leave, so I play my (very weak) trump card in desperation.
“Vot is problem? I haff paid money. Haff signed form. Is contract, no? You take pictures now.”
I can almost hear his brain churning. He really doesn’t want me here, that’s plain to see. But there’s no way I’m leaving until I’ve had a chance to talk to him properly. If I have to go through with the photo shoot to get him calm enough to hear me out, then that’s what I’ll do.
“OK, ‘Kristina’” he says eventually, making little quote marks in the air as he says the name. “Let’s do this.”
I walk into the dressing room and strip down to the Rigby & Peller bra and knickers. I put on the red stilettos and the man’s white shirt, rolling up the sleeves as they’re way too long. I’m going for the ‘morning after’ look, but I’m not sure how successful it is. It’s a long time since I’ve had a morning after, so I’m a little rusty.
Toby is waiting for me as I come out of the dressing room. The porno bed is in place, with black cotton sheets and lights set up around it. I can see he’s used the time that I was changing to switch, as best he can, into professional mode, but it’s all I can do not to launch myself at him.
“Get a grip,” I tell myself, firmly.
“What was that?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I reply, as Kristina. “I am ready. We start now.”
To begin with, I feel incredibly embarrassed as Toby directs me. I’ve never done anything like this before and I feel a bit silly as he puts me in poses that are evidently supposed to maximise my cleavage and instructs me to lower my head so that I’m looking up at him because, apparently, that’s sexier. As time goes on, though, I start to relax. Even though we haven’t had the conversation I’m here for, and I still have no idea how I’m going to start it, I’m just so happy to see him that I stop worrying about the fact that, to all intents and purposes, I’m writhing around on the porno bed like a wannabe glamour model.
Every so often he makes adjustments to the look. At one point I remove both the shirt and the stilettos, and he changes the bed sheets from black to white. We also do some shots without the bed, thankfully.
“We’ve been going for an hour,” he announces. “Would you like a break?”
It feels like we’ve only been doing this for five minutes, but I realise I am thirsty, so I agree. He hands me a dressing gown to cover myself up with, fetches me a bottle of water from the fridge in the kitchen area, and I sit on the bed to drink it. I check my phone, but there’s nothing from Voyages Luxes yet, so I slip it into the pocket of the dressing gown. An awkward silence descends.
“Why are you here, Madison?” he asks, eventually. His voice is so sad that I want to wrap my arms around him.
“For vairy private photo shoot!” I reply, in Kristina’s voice.
“No, why are you really here?”
I realise that I can’t hold off any more; it’s time to come clean. All of a sudden I feel vulnerable. This is a new sensation for me and I don’t like it. What if I bare my soul, but he’s decided he’s not actually in love with me after all and turns me down? Why on earth didn’t I work out what I was going to say when I was planning this? He’s looking at me expectantly, so I steel myself, open my mouth and start to wing it.
“You know when you told me you’d met someone special, and I didn’t realise you were talking about me, so you had to spell it out?”
“Yes. How can I forget? I think Christmas Eve rates quite highly among the worst days of my life and, believe me, there are quite a few to choose from.” He laughs, bitterly.
“Well, what I didn’t realise at the time, but I know now, was that I’ve met someone special too.”
He looks absolutely stricken. This isn’t going to plan at all. Why is everything about this afternoon going wrong?
“And these photos… are for him?” Toby asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “Didn’t you think about how I’d feel at all?”
“They’re for you,” I reply. “Look, Toby. What I’m trying to tell you, and making a complete hash of, if the look on your face is anything to go by, is that I’ve realised that I’m in love with you too. I’m yours, if you still want me.”
