Thanks for choosing this story. This one is pretty long. Lots of story, and some sex, too because getting from friends to lovers is complicated -- lots of elephants to tackle.
Everyone in this story is over eighteen years of age.
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The river's running free and strong this afternoon, the tide seeming to rush and trip over itself to reach inland, racing to Teddington Lock, to its most westerly point, before turning back, retreating home to the North Sea for the night. It's hypnotic to watch, even through the greasy grey curtain of rain sliding down the huge window. Almost hypnotic enough for me to forget the dislocating experience that's unfolding around me today.
"Ok, that's great. Yeah, so, uh, Ben, how about pointing out a few things through the window? As if you're showing things to Nella? Talking to her about stuff. Yeah, like that," Joshi's directing voice is clear and confident.
Ben's arm brushes against mine as he follows Joshi's instructions.
"Isn't that the bar we got chucked out of, on Rehana's birthday?" Ben murmurs, startlingly close to my ear, his voice so familiar yet utterly not in this weird, engineered proximity, long finger pointing to one of the shiny new buildings on the river bank opposite.
"Mm, it could be," I agree.
"Yeah, I'm sure it's there. See the terrace -- that's where Ed slid off the bench and took half the awning down with him, remember?"
Laughter bursts from me as visions of Ed on his drunken arse, struggling to comprehend his predicament, fill my mind for a few seconds and I forget what we're doing here.
"Yeah, oh yeah, that's lovely. Very natural," Joshi's voice impinges once again, coaching us to do the impossible (for me, anyway) which is to behave naturally in front of a camera.
"Told you this wouldn't be so bad, Nell," Ben's voice is still tight to the side of my head.
I close my eyes because, engineered or not, the proximity is agony. His body is mere inches from mine, closer than it's ever been, tucked behind me to present this cosy scenario for the camera. My heart doesn't know the difference, nor does the rest of my body, and for every minute we spend doing this photo shoot my excitement and dread grow in equal parts.
Agreeing to be photographed was folly enough; agreeing to do it with Ben was sheer madness. But that's what too much cabernet sauvignon and Ben's quiet but unrelenting charm can do. My only consolation was the sight of him this afternoon as we'd met at Tower Bridge, his crooked grin looking surprisingly nervy. Ben nervous? I wasn't sure I could remember the last time I'd seen it. Maybe the morning of our first serious school exams, which must be ten, no, nearly fifteen years ago. He's quiet, all right, and some people take it to mean he's shy, but I always think of Ben as being quietly confident. So I'd been really surprised at how he'd joked a bit too loudly, handing me a coffee from the van outside the station, slopping it as his hand had bumped mine clumsily while we'd manoeuvred around the legions of energetic tourists.
"Mm," I manage, still staring at the water below.
"Uh, ok, Ben, could you maybe slip your arm around Nella's waist? Yeah, like that."
My heart picks up in response to Ben's touch. I shut my eyes, hoping he won't notice. And remind myself we're just friends. That I'm doing this as a favour for him, because although he knows I hate the camera, he also knows I'm persuadable. Because it's for charity. And because Joshi is his best mate from college and he needs this for his portfolio. That's really all there is to it. Isn't it?
I follow Joshi's directions, numbing my brain by reciting chunks of 'Archbold Criminal Pleading, Evidence and Practice' to myself. And what do you know, but running through the Proceeds of Crime Act 2002 does the trick perfectly. My heart stops tripping and my breath slows. Even when Ben pulls me closer to his chest, so close his feet are almost level with mine, even as Joshi issues his requests for us to fake coupledom, I manage the impossible and relax.
"Look at that," I murmur, "I think the tide's turning. See how it looks like it's stalling?"
"It's a spring tide today. Full moon."
I smile to myself. Ben worked on a film about the river last year and ever since, he's been a fount of knowledge about it, soaking information up in his usual intelligent, greedy way.
"Geek."
"Not denying it," he replies with humour that makes me turn my head to see the expression in his eyes.
He's already leaning down to look at me and the sudden connection is as sharp and light as a brace of pins pressing into my skin.
"Yeah, that's nice," Joshi's voice adds to the singularity of the moment.
Ben's eyes squint at me, the grey looking almost green in the autumnal daylight. I can't help but wonder if he's feeling the same as me, whether the places where we're touching are permeating his senses as thoroughly as they are mine. His eyes look bright, but that could be the reflection of light from the window. I press my lips together to distract myself.
"Ok you guys, this is great. You look great. D'ya want to see what I've taken so far?"
We sit on the trendy leather couch in this borrowed apartment and lean over the camera together as Joshi flicks through the images. They're good. Too good because they make the lie look real.
"I knew your contrasting colouring would work, look at this," Joshi mutters, using the zoom to enlarge one of the images of us laughing together. Ben's hair looks black against the window while I look much fairer than I am in reality. And, most disconcerting of all, we look like we're supposed to look. Like a couple in love. I sigh as silently as I can while they pick over a few details of that shot and a couple of others, flicking back and forth, discussing it like the artists they are. But it's hard not to fall in love with the lie.
"Right, you up for more of the same? Now the light's fading outside, I'd like to try some of you sitting here on the sofa together?"
Ben's eyebrow rises just slightly, in an expression he's used since we very first set eyes on each other. He'd been scoffing a mountain of chips when I'd taken the seat opposite him in the school cafeteria and he'd given me that same exact look. Then reached a hand out and shaken mine. 'I'm Ben,' he'd said in a voice that'd already broken. I'd smiled back at him then, unable to do anything other, just as I do now.
"Ok," he answers for both of us. "But I could do with a drink. This modelling shit is thirsty work."
"Janna left us some wine and beer in the fridge or there's water from the tap," Joshi offers, jutting his chin towards the kitchen along the back wall.
"What do you fancy?"
I consider for a moment, before Ben adds, "I'm having a beer."
"Ok, same for me, thanks."
He heads for the bathroom first, his black boots squeaking a little on the wood floorboards.
"Hey, Nell, I'm psyched you agreed to do this, especially as I know you're not too keen on being photographed. I'd want to thank you anyway, but now I'm seeing how well these pictures are coming out, I'm even more grateful."
I'm touched. "Thanks Josh. But Ben had me at 'it's for charity'. He knows I'm a soft touch."
"A tough girl like you? I don't think so! But thanks anyway. I think they're going to really like these ones. Maybe you'll get to be February."
"February?"
"For Valentine's Day. That's when they hold one of their major fundraising campaigns, right? Matters of the heart and all that. 'Help us to help others through the loss of their loved ones'," he quotes one of the charity's straplines, hooking his fingers around the quotation marks.
"Right, yeah."
