Little Elephant

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.

+++

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."

"You two look so good together, I hope they do use you for February. That, or December, for Christmas."

"Here you go, Nell," Ben holds out a tin from one of the three in his hand.

It's icy. I shiver and crack it open.

"You cold?" he frowns at me.

"No, not really."

"Ok. What's next, Josh?"

"Uh, so let's try out some shots of you two on the couch together. If that's ok?"

"Sure. I just need to be outta here by six or thereabouts."

"Oh yeah? Got somewhere special to go, have ya?"

Ben simply grins and my heart crimps. "Yeah. Anneli."

And that right there is proof of how ridiculous I am. Because -- me and Ben -- we're just friends, and nothing else.

+++

I take another long swig of beer, hoping it's gonna help dull the edges, since this thing is turning out much harder to do than anticipated. No pun intended. Except it's too apt, so there it is. I should've given it more thought before persuading Nella to do this shoot with me today. Hours of pretending to be a couple in love was bound to take its toll, right? I'm sure there's a whole other brain inside my own that's hellbent on sabotaging my best intentions -- controlling the boozing; paying the bills on time; taking my dad's calls; staying the right side of decent when it comes to thoughts about Nella. Adult levels of emotional restraint, in other words, but levels I push myself over again and again.

"Ok, you guys ready to go again?"

Joshi's voice pulls me back into the room. I glance at Nella. She's tipped her head back to drink from the tin, her hair bunched up in some lovely way at the base of her neck, the way she wears it for work, her eyes closed as she swallows. I exhale as if it can exile the bad thoughts from my shitbag self.

"Yup, ready as ever," I lie.

Joshi flashes a look I choose to ignore. I know his opinion on the situation but I'm buggered if I'm blowing it all with Nella for the sake of misplaced honesty, because why would she want to know I lust after her night and day? I'm a penniless artist and she's a smart, successful barrister. I'm an overgrown kid with ideas above his station and she deserves a grown man who's already secure in his place in the world.

So I give Joshi a short shake of the head to warn him off and hold out my hand for Nella's tin.

"Recycling?" I ask, tracking over to the kitchen to dispose of the empties.

"Uh, yeah, somewhere over there," Joshi mutters, adjusting the tripod. "So I think I'll take some shots from here of you two on the couch to see how it looks with you both silhouetted against the window in the background."

I haul some air into my lungs to calm the fuck down since the beer has had the opposite effect, but, ok, let's sit down next to her and make-believe for a while longer, why not.

"Mate, can you put your jacket back on for these first shots?"

She smiles at me then at Joshi as I shrug it on. "You want him back in bad boy mode, is that it?"

"Yeah, I reckon so. It makes a stronger contrast with you and it's really working on camera."

As I sit down I wonder if the pink on her cheeks is because of the beer or something else. Embarrassment, probably. The jacket sits heavy on my shoulders and creaks against the leather of the couch when I lean back.

"Umm, Nell, how would you feel if I asked you to sit on Ben's lap?" Joshi asks, evening out his voice to make the request easier for her to turn down.

And she surprises the hell out of me when she nods, quickly and with a small smile.

"Well, ok," he raises his eyebrows. "Could you sit facing this way first of all, so I can see how it looks on camera?"

We do as he says and I spend all of it wishing I could enjoy it more. Instead, I waste energy repressing my natural reactions, smothering them with a veneer of civilised reserve that I normally despise. Joshi keeps on issuing his instructions; turn this way, now that; look this way, now that. Look up, look down. Lean in, lean away. It's surprisingly tiring. And nerve-wracking, as he directs us to get closer and closer. After a few more shots, he shifts the tripod again before asking, in his most hesitant voice yet, if Nell would mind sitting over my lap this time, so we'd be face to face with each other.

I suffer another sharp shock when she agrees, this time with a small, even mischievous, smile and I guess that one beer must be doing its thing for her. She doesn't drink much, so maybe one is all it's taken to get her buzzed. I shift on the couch as she gets up, feeling hot under all the lights, wishing I could take the jacket off and wondering if this next position is going to be my undoing.

"I'm getting myself another beer. Want one?" Joshi asks.

There are times I could kiss the bugger, and this is one.

"I'll get them," Nell offers and for the love of god I can't take my eyes off her back, following her into the kitchen, to the fridge when she reaches in, her jacket riding up over her hips, until she turns and I take the coward's option, twisting my head away.

She's wearing a dark work suit, as per Joshi's instructions. The trousers make her legs look even longer, helped by the high heeled boots that are clicking over the floor right now.

"Here."

I take the tin gratefully and down almost half of it in one gulp, hoping it'll help. I peer at the side. It's only 6.4% ABV so it's not going to get me drunk but I hold out hope it'll make this next part of the shoot manageable.

She's still smiling at me as if sharing a secret. I try to shake the seductive thought out of me because it can't possibly lead anywhere.

"Ready?" she asks, leaning over me just enough for the neck of her white blouse to drape open a little.

I nod like the dumb idiot I am and watch hypnotically as she uses her hands to push my knees together until I get what she's doing and close them myself. As she climbs over me, legs either side of mine, I snatch for air. There's only one reason to sit this way and it's so far removed from how I can allow myself to think of Nella it's terrifying. I fight to remember it's only for show. It's fake. She's doing this as a favour to us. Me because I asked, Joshi because he wants this job to be his best yet. Well, and because he asked me to ask Nella if she'd do it, maybe thinking he'd be doing me a favour. Never would I have guessed we'd be sitting like this, fucking Joshi and his suggestions.

And, god, I'm so nervous I'm rambling even in my own head. Shut the fuck up, Nelson, shut up.

She perches her bum at a safe distance, which helps.

"Ok you guys, you gotta look a bit more lovey-dovey than that," Joshi jokes, his face hidden behind the camera.

Nella laughs, like a burst of happiness and light, and I feel it everywhere. Shit. Absolutely everywhere.

"How about I put my hands here, is that ok?" she asks, placing them on the tops of my shoulders.

I can't feel them much through the leather of the jacket. "Sure."

"And you gotta touch her, mate. Sorry if it's awkward, but remember it's all for charity," Joshi chirps.

I shut my eyes for a second or two. I'm overheating, big time.

"Come on, Ben, it's not that bad," her voice just a whisper, too low for Joshi to hear, repeating my own words back to me.

I snort. "You have no idea," I can't stop myself from saying, before, "All right if I do this?" as I slide my hands carefully onto the sides of her legs, just above her knees, as if to pull her closer.

And it takes a lot of willpower not to. If it wasn't for the fact I'm fighting a semi, I'd be tempted to do just that.

"Yeah, yeah, that's nice. Hold that for a minute. Look as though you're talking, maybe catching up on each other's days at work, something like that," Joshi's saying, providing a pretty much non-stop soundtrack to the frantic white noise busting my head.

Heat blooms over my thighs and in my palms where we're touching. The wool of her suit is soft and fine against my skin where it's exposed by the holes in my jeans and I do everything in my power to wrench some civil-sounding words out of my mouth.

"So how was your day, darlin?"

Again, her laugh creates little shockwaves through me. "It was pretty good, sweetheart," she plays along. "I, uh, spent the morning in court, then took lunch in the park with some, umm, colleagues."

"Yeah? Who?"

"Umm," her eyes fly upwards, like they do when she's thinking, "Rebecca and Malcolm," she improvises.

"Malcolm?" I frown, not improvising in the slightest.

"Yes, why? Are you jealous or something?"

"What if I am?" I cuss my stupid fucking self for going in this direction because it's too close to the bone, even as my fingers twitch of their own accord, digging into the wool of her trousers.

She blinks. "Huh. I didn't think you were the jealous type -- sweetheart," she adds.

"Maybe I am."

"No need, though. Malcolm's married."

"That doesn't mean a thing. I've seen him look at you," I mutter, flashing back to the times I've dropped in to meet her for a drink after work, watching that smooth bastard sneaking looks down Nell's cleavage or at her knees, touching her arm or shoulder for no good fucking reason.

"Have you?"

She seems genuinely surprised, sitting up straighter, wriggling her hips slightly. I tense my stomach, willing my cock to relax.

"Yeah. But like you say, he's married, so it's probably just wishful thinking on his part," I add, to pull us back from the brink.

"Here, I need to move the lights around a bit, so take a break for a minute or two," Josh interrupts, handing us our beers.

I expect Nell to stand up but she doesn't. Instead, she lifts the can to her lips and drinks, eyes shut, so I watch her like the dirty bastard I am, consuming the sight of her neck tipping back to swallow, a peek of delicate clavicle shifting at the open collar of her blouse, her lips wetted with beer. Blood beats through me louder than the white noise and fills my mind and cock with all kinds of beautiful, forbidden visuals.

"Not drinking yours?" she gestures to the tin in my hand.

"Sure, yes," I splutter.

"Bottoms up," she grins. "In for a penny, in for a pound."

I smile at her deliberately self-conscious delivery. She loves being able to use English expressions like that, a habit from when she'd arrived at school here not yet completely fluent in the language but desperate to learn anything and everything. A constant hunger she'd been completely unembarrassed by, interrogating every other word and phrase. 'What is that?' 'Explain this to me, please.' 'What does this mean?' 'Is that ironic or funny?' I'd pretended to put up with it in a long-suffering kind of way, but in all honesty, I'd loved every minute of her curiosity.

"Ok, that's going to be better, I think," Josh announces. "I won't be two secs, gotta take a piss."

The flat feels suddenly quiet. I finish off the beer to distract myself from the fact we're alone and she's sitting on my actual lap, because it's getting more and more difficult to remember that this is fake.

"Not in a million years did I imagine spending an afternoon doing this with you, Ben."

Oh ok, so she's not afraid of making this real, then.

"That makes two of us."

"Hm. Well, it's fun. I haven't thought about work or anything serious for hours."

I smile back at her. "Really? That's good, then?"

"It really is. Finished?"

She plucks the can out of my hand, twisting to drop them both onto the low table. Which is how I can see Josh's expectant face behind her as he comes out of the bathroom, flicking his eyes in a completely unsubtle way between me and Nella. I ignore him because the fucker ought to know better by now.

"Ready to go again?" he asks, brightly.

"Whenever you are," Nell replies as if for both of us.

+++

When he returns from the bathroom, Joshi brings us more beers and it's a measure of my state of mind (and body) that I take it without hesitation. I watch Ben and he seems to watch me as we crack the cans and take a first sip. It's almost as if we're making a pact, even if I'm not sure of the terms. When music fills the silence we both smile.

"Just, ya know, helping set the mood," Joshi calls out as Ben screws his face up.