Amanda wasn't entirely sure what a film company would look like, but she didn't think that it would look like an engineering works. She looked again at the card that he had given her when she met him in the pub. Number 27 Brunel Way. The sign at the end of the cul-de-sac definitely said Brunel Way. And the door she was standing next to had the number 23 on it. (It appeared to be a blacksmith's or some such metalcraft business.) Number 27 Brunel Way must be further along. Or else Amanda had already walked past it. She walked on a bit further and, sure enough, there was number 27.
Amanda pressed the button and waited. After a few seconds, there was a buzz followed by a metallic clunk, and then a voice -- possibly a human voice, but who could be sure these days? -- said: 'Welcome to LoLo Productions.' Amanda pushed on the door.
The door opened into a broad corridor, the walls of which were hung with framed awards of one sort or another and boudoir photographs of women of a certain age. Directly ahead, lightly-frosted double glass doors led to what appeared to be a reception area. The doors slid open as Amanda approached.
'Hello. Amanda, I presume?' The smiling middle-aged woman behind the reception desk reminded Amanda of the rather attractive mother of one of her former school friends.
'Umm... yes,' Amanda said. 'I'm... umm... here to see....'
'David,' the smiling woman said. 'Yes. He's expecting you. He's through in Studio B. If you'd just like to come with me. How's the weather out there now? It was rather chilly when I came in this morning. I do hope that it's not a sign that summer is over already.'
'It's... umm... not too bad now,' Amanda said. 'Better than it was earlier anyway.'
'Oh, good,' the woman said. 'Our summers are quite short enough as it is.' And they were there. According to the sign on the door, they had reached Studio B.
'Ah! Amanda. Nice to see you again.' David Drake still didn't look like the sort of person that made films -- certainly not films of the sort that he apparently made. He looked, Amanda thought, as if he should have been a librarian or something like that. A conveyancing solicitor perhaps.
'This is our small studio,' David Drake said. 'Well... technically, it's our only studio these days. When we need a bigger studio we hire one from one of the facility companies. It's easier that way. And, of course, half of our productions -- more than half, now that I come to think about it -- are made on location.'
The 'small' studio was not much more that a large bedroom -- a large bedroom with lights everywhere and bits of electronic kit.
'You're still up for it then?'
'I think so.'
David Drake smiled. 'I think you'll be a natural,' he said.
A natural what, Amanda wondered. She had never been in a film before. She had certainly never been in the kind of film that David Drake made.
'Do you want to just slip your dress off for me?' David Drake said.
Did Amanda want to slip her dress off? No, not really. But it was why she was there. From the moment that she had first said yes, she had known that she was going to have to slip her dress off at some stage. Amanda reached behind for the zipper; lowered it; and then leaned forward slightly and shrugged the dress from her shoulders. She paused after she had exposed her top half... and then she continued. Then she stepped out of her dress and draped it over the back of a conveniently placed chair. And then she self-consciously straightened her bra and knickers.
David Drake nodded. 'And if you could just turn around slowly.'
Amanda did a slow twirl.
David Drake nodded again. 'Yes,' he said. 'And you're not shaved down there, are you?'
Amanda shook her head.
David Drake nodded. 'All natural. Nice,' he said. 'Oh, and you can put your dress on again.'
While Amanda dressed, David Drake consulted an electronic calendar. 'I'm thinking Wednesday,' he said. 'We'll probably start mid-afternoon. Say around three? How does that suit?'
'You mean this coming Wednesday?'
'Yes. I'd suggest Monday, but Moira has a shoot up north. She's not back until Tuesday lunchtime.'
'Umm... what would be involved?' Amanda asked.
'I'm thinking just you and Moira. Keep it simple.'
'No. I mean what. What would I have to do?'
'Oh. What? Yes. Oh... you know... just the usual. As I say... just keep it simple.'
'I guess that's my question. What is the usual. This is all a bit new to me.'
David Drake frowned slightly and looked even more like a librarian. 'Have you... umm... not seen any of our girl-on-girl productions?'
Amanda shook her head. 'Not really. Well... not at all. If I'm honest. I just saw the advertisement.'
'Oh! Oh, I see. Yes. Well. Tell you what: why don't I find you a little taster? And then I'll go and make us a cup of coffee while you have a quick squizz.'
'A squizz?'
'While you watch it,' David Drake said. 'See what's what. Get a bit of a feeling for.... Well, you know.'
On one side of the room there was a laptop and a stand-alone monitor on a trolley. David Drake tapped a few keys on the laptop's keyboard and then turned the trolley so that the monitor faced Amanda. 'How do you take your coffee?' he asked.
Brandon, Amanda's first proper boyfriend, had tried to get her to watch some girl-on-girl action. But it wasn't something that Amanda had felt comfortable with. She wasn't sure why. She had watched the odd porno, of course. Who hadn't? But there had always been a bloke involved. In some cases there had been more than one bloke involved.
Brandon had explained to her the difference between MFM and MMF. 'With MMF, the blokes get it on with the woman, but also with each other,' he said. 'With MFM, they just get it on with the woman.' Brandon seemed to prefer MMF. Amanda wasn't sure why. She wondered if, perhaps, he was secretly gay.
The clip that David Drake had lined up for Amanda didn't seem to have much of a story. A woman (who seemed to be in her late 30s) had invited her new next door neighbour (who also looked to be in her late 30s) over for coffee. Within minutes, the hostess was showing her new neighbour some freshly-laundered items of lingerie. Bras. Knickers. Suspender belts. And then they were kissing and doing other things to each other.
'What if... umm... Moira -- is that her name? -- what if she doesn't like me?' Amanda asked when David Drake returned with the coffee.
David Drake did his little librarian frown. 'Why would she not?' he asked.
'Well... I don't know. But she's never even met me.'
'Oh, I think she'll like you,' David Drake said. 'I think she will like you a lot. And I think you'll like her. Yes, I think that you two will be very good together.'
Amanda didn't feel entirely convinced.
'Well... you could always meet up beforehand,' David Drake said. 'You know... if that would make you feel more comfortable. Get together for a drink or something.'
And then it was Amanda's turn to frown. 'It's just.... Well, it's just that this is all new to me. I'm sorry.'
'No, no. That's OK,' David Drake said. 'Umm... let me give Moira a call.'
David Drake phoned Moira and arranged for her and Amanda to meet -- at Moira's place -- on Tuesday afternoon.
'I'm sorry,' Amanda said. 'It's just that....'
'No. That's quite all right,' David Drake said. 'First time and all that. But I'm sure we have nothing to worry about. I can see you two getting along just fine. I wouldn't be putting you two together if I couldn't see you getting along.'
* * *
Moira's flat was in St Kathrine Docks. Near the marina.
'Gosh. This is lovely,' Amanda said.
'It is nice, isn't it?' Moira said. 'Nice and central. Nice and handy.'
'Must be expensive,' Amanda said.
Moira smiled. 'Funnily enough, when my late mother bought this place, they could hardly give them away. Not now, of course. But you've got to have some luck in life, don't you? Now... what would you like to drink? A glass of wine? Vodka and tonic? I may even have some gin. What's your poison?'