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‘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, yes? 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. Looking at his current expression, it looks like I’ll have no option but to go through with the photo shoot to get him calm enough to hear me out, but I always knew that was a risk. I just have to hope like hell he’s going to overlook the fact that there isn’t a chaperone in sight. I’m relying on a gamble that he doesn’t want to play out this next scene in front of an audience any more than I 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.
‘Patience,’ 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 fromVoyages Luxesyet, 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?’
Even though I’ve been writhing around in next to nothing for the last hour, desperately trying to work out how to start the conversation we’re obviously about to have, it’s only now that I truly feel exposed and 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’d met someone special too.’
I’ve obviously said the wrong thing, because he looks absolutely stricken. This isn’t going to plan at all.
‘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?’ He drops his eyes to the camera and I see him eject the memory card. Without looking at me, he holds it out.
‘Take it,’ he says, hoarsely. ‘Take the money as well. I can’t do this, and I can’t believe you would be so insensitive as to ask me to do it. You can get changed back into your clothes, but then I’d like you to leave.’
Oh no you don’t. I haven’t gone through this entire rigmarole for it to end like this. If he thinks I’m just going to slink away, he’s got another thought coming.
‘Look at me,’ I command him, and I’m aware that my desperation is making me sound much harsher than I want to, but it has the desired effect. Slowly, he lifts his eyes and meets my gaze. His expression is one of pure misery, and he’s still holding out his hand with the memory card in it. I reach out, take his hand gently in mine and close his fingers around the card.
‘They’re for you,’ I explain. ‘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.’
