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Wednesday, 30 April
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The old mini rattled along the country lanes, past verdant hedgerows bursting with life in the early summer sunshine. Henry accelerated through the narrow lanes, his arms aching as he twisted the steering wheel left and right. Perhaps he'd overdone it at the gym this morning but he found he needed to work out every day to maintain his physique. He was simultaneously trying to steer, read the map he'd been given and track his location on his mobile.
The map wasn't great, just a hand-drawn scrap of paper given to him by one of the more attractive girls at the agency. What was her name? Angela?
He'd already been through Burfield, passed The Queens Head, and turned off by the Stag and Hounds. Was it a coincidence that most of the landmarks on the map were pubs? Perhaps he ought to invite Angela out for a drink sometime. He glanced at it again as the car swept around another corner into a lane only just wide enough for two cars: was that black splodge the reservoir or yet another pub? He should be nearly there now.
So far, his career as a model wasn't turning out to be as glamorous as he'd hoped. He'd pictured himself hanging out at trendy wine-bars and modelling the latest fashions for GQ or Vogue but so far he'd only done a few meagrely paid jobs at conventions and catalogues that he'd fitted in around working at a local bar. Of all the jobs he'd done, this was easily the strangest. Still, a hundred quid cash-in-hand to stand around in a classroom for a couple of afternoons wasn't to be sniffed at for someone with his limited experience.
"Ah, here we go," he muttered as he passed the sign saying "St Catherine's, 100 yards on the left".
Macy stared out of the window at the new art teacher, Miss Brittan, who was pacing up and down the car park anxiously. She watched as the woman looked at her watch again, a number of brightly coloured bangles sliding up over her wrist. Macy had heard that the teacher had had difficulty finding an agency to supply them with a male model after what had happened last time. She really hoped he hadn't cancelled at the last minute.
Miss Brittan was a tall woman with long, auburn tresses spilling over her shoulders. Despite her English-sounding name, she was actually half-French, her faint Gallic accent somehow making her both more exotic and authoritative. Today, she was resplendent in a vibrant, red-and-purple tie-dyed sun-dress that clung to the womanly curves of her shapely figure. Her sunny disposition, passion for art and bright clothing made her popular among the students, although Macy had heard that some of the older teachers found her a little too radical for their tastes.
The gossip amongst the students was that she wasn't only passionate about art. Macy was reliably informed that Miss Brittan was having a torrid relationship with Mr Lean, the maths teacher, although there were so many rumours about affairs sometimes it was hard to tell what was real and what was fantasy at St Catherine's.
"Looks like he's here," Macy said to her friend, Fay, as a red Mini roared into the car park, and a tall young man with an unruly mop of blonde hair got out.
There was a tangible sense of barely suppressed excitement when Miss Brittan entered the classroom with the model, who she introduced as Henry. Usually at this time, the girls would still be slowly drifting in but today they were all here early, seated at their easels and chattering excitedly.
"Well, this is weird," Henry thought to himself, as Miss Brittan fussed around him, posing him carefully as he reclined on the chaise longue. He wasn't naked of course, they'd both agreed that it was only proper that he should keep his underwear on, but under the intense gaze of all these teenage girls he certainly felt naked. Miss Brittan artfully draped over a white sheet over his torso, trying to create a more classic look by hiding his boxer shorts.
In front of him, about a dozen schoolgirls sat at easels, pretending that having a half-naked man in front of them was an everyday occurrence. Some of them exchanging mischievous glances, half-smiles playing around their lips, some chewing the ends of their pencils thoughtfully as they began to sketch.
Macy started to sketch the smooth curves of Henry's athletic body with broad, confident strokes of her pencil. He was very good-looking. Lean and toned, his muscles well-defined under his smooth, tanned skin, his fair hair unkempt as if he'd just rolled out of bed; but what she noticed most were his pale blue eyes, restlessly darting around the room. She felt her heart skip a beat as they met hers briefly.
Behind her, Miss Brittan prowled, her restless eyes roaming over the girls, careful to stamp out any sign of giggling or flirting with young Henry. She had only been at the school for twelve months and the other teachers had warned her that the girls would need keeping an eye on. Mr Wicklow had raised an eyebrow when she told him about her plans to employ a life model. Apparently, the last time they'd tried it, the girls had "gone a bit mad" as he put it, which explained why the agencies were so reluctant to deal with them. So she was determined that this time, she'd keep control. She'd been very clear with the girls: any sign of fooling around and she'd step in and cancel the whole thing.
Macy waited until Miss Brittan was at the far end of the room, before leaning over towards Fay.
"Imagine waking up next to him!" she whispered.
"I know, imagine if he was naked under that sheet!"
"Oh Fay, you are rude. What a thought!"
"Imagine him waking up next to you all naked and horny and ready for action, if you know what I mean," Fay gushed, her large dark brown eyes sparkling with mischief.
"You're so dirty Fay! He's buff, isn't he? Look at that six pack."
"I know, check out those chest muscles! It's like he's been photo-shopped! He's gorgeous, I wouldn't mind him dipping his brush in my paint," Fay whispered.
Macy put her hand up to her mouth, trying to stifle her giggling.