"Fuck, Dean, careful with that expensive camera gear. Put it in my room, while I check out the spa."
"On it, Pearl," I replied.
Pearl Campbell's a best-selling wildlife photographer specialising in wetland birds and waders, hence her luxury hotel booking overlooking the Norfolk Broads estuary marsh, awaiting birds migrating from summer feeding grounds in the Arctic Circle, to see out the winter in gentler climes.
Once upon a time they were keenly hunted to supplement winter diets, now they're keenly hunted by amateur birdwatchers and professional photographers.
I'm Dean Elliott, Pearl's paid assistant and amateur photographer, who carries, cleans, maintains and erects her photographic equipment. I really cared for Pearl, too.
We rarely camp outside nowadays, unlike those simple early days of our working relationship. This trip means a comfortable hotel, and I rose well before dawn this morning, dressed in clothing much less smart than this hotel would normally tolerate, before setting out for the wetland hides.
Not only do I manhandle the gear, I edit and sort photos for publication, source visas, book flights, accommodation, vehicles, pay bills and bank the proceeds of Pearl's business. I've assisted Pearl for over seven years.
Pearl considers me a friend and junior partner but mostly as her domestic servant. Lines that must never be crossed were drawn in the sand long ago. She benefits from our platonic relationship, while she worked her way through a string of eligible (and not so eligible) boyfriends until recently engaged to be married to the fabulously wealthy book publisher, Sebastian Brand.
I thought Brand was a privileged dick, actually. Wealthy, loud-mouthed and treated servants, like me, objects to be abused and belittled.
The problem is that I worshipped Pearl, from the very first day I met her. However, that love was never reciprocated except ways that maintained our clear working relationship. Pearl depended on me, essentially in maintaining her comfortable livelihood. I was also a sounding board about her many relationships. She almost regarded me in the same way as one of her girlfriends, sharing with me intimate details of her relationships and pretending to seek my advice. I realise now that she gave me blow-by-blow accounts to feed off my poorly disguised jealousy.
