Читать книгу It’s A Man’s World - Polly Courtney - Страница 13

Chapter 7

The photographer squinted critically at his digital display.

‘Okay, that last one again, if you don’t mind. Yeah, move your hands about, that’s it, like you’re really enjoying yourself.’

The girl grabbed her breasts with fresh gusto, flicking her long, dark hair to one side and pouting at the camera. Alexa swallowed nervously, wondering whether the girl actually was enjoying herself. Going by the shaky knees and the look of forced ecstasy on her face, Alexa suspected not.

Kayleigh Williams was nineteen years old. This was her first modelling shoot – a fact that Alexa could probably have deduced by the girl’s demeanour, had it not been written on the call sheet in front of her. She couldn’t help thinking that it might also be the girl’s last.

It wasn’t that Kayleigh didn’t have the looks: she was tall and curvy with dark eyes and glossy, chestnut-coloured hair that cascaded in waves down her back. Her breasts, as noted on the call sheet, were a sizeable 32DD. The problem was the way she held herself. It was her confidence – or lack thereof. The girl looked petrified.

‘Can you move a bit more slowly, Kayleigh?’ Jamie, the pictures editor, obviously felt compelled to intervene. ‘That’s it. Much more sexual, yeah.’

The videographer gave a nod of approval as he changed angle.

This was why amateur photographs never looked anything like those in the magazine. Aside from the photographer there was a photographer’s assistant, a lighting guy, a junior lighting guy, makeup and a young lad whose job it was to run around the set looking busy and repeatedly offering drinks. For this shoot there was also a videographer. Banter now filmed, as well as shot, all of its most popular features, for the website and Banter TV.

The ‘Brainy Banter’ feature was up there among the readers’ favourites. The concept was simple: get a female university student to take off her clothes and then ask her some trivia questions that she would inevitably get wrong under pressure, then print the airbrushed pictures beside her incorrect answers, thus offering the readers a dumb, compliant bimbo with a perfect body. It wasn’t exactly a fair representation of the female student population, but then, nothing was ever a fair representation. Banter was no different from other publications when it came to manipulating the truth.

‘We call that the hand-bra,’ whispered Jamie, leaning over.

‘Right.’ Alexa nodded awkwardly as the girl leaned forward, lightly clutching her heavy breasts.

‘Got to get plenty of nipple-free shots, for the website and so on,’ he explained softly.

She nodded again, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. It wasn’t just that she was sitting, watching another woman grope her own breasts; it was something else. She couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but Alexa didn’t feel right.

‘Makeup?’ Jamie was talking at full volume again, which wasn’t particularly loud. Unlike most of the staff at Banter, Jamie had a quietly authoritative manner. He was boyishly good-looking, with high cheekbones, plump lips and piercing blue eyes that shone out from beneath long, blond lashes.

The makeup artist emerged from a far corner of the room, munching on a sandwich.

‘Can you try and do something about the mark on her thigh?’

The makeup artist brushed the crumbs from her hands and bent down, grimacing at the sight of the girl’s leg. ‘Hmm.’ She looked up. ‘Is that a birthmark?’

Kayleigh nodded apologetically.

The woman screwed up her face. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

The makeup artist retreated and started rummaging through her enormous kit bag, leaving Kayleigh standing self-consciously under the lights wearing a G-string and a pair of stilettos.

That was it, thought Alexa. That was what made her feel so uncomfortable: it was the fact that Kayleigh looked so uncomfortable. The girl didn’t want to be exposing her every pimple and blemish to the nation, to be scrutinised by two hundred thousand strangers. True, she had volunteered for the shoot – probably encouraged to do so by a boyfriend who saw it as some kind of trophy to show his mates – but it was clear from the way she was hugging her chest that now that she was here, she felt over-exposed.

Alexa felt a surge of pity for the girl. She wouldn’t stand up there, half naked, in front of a bunch of strangers. Even though she understood the rationale for appearing in Banter – that it was flattering to know that men saw you as a source of sexual stimulation – she still couldn’t imagine herself doing it. Alexa wondered what it was that was stopping her. What made her different from Kayleigh?

A thick layer of foundation was applied to the offending birthmark, rendering it invisible to the camera – although from where Alexa and Jamie sat, it looked like a bad cement job. Close-up, the girl wasn’t as gorgeous as she initially appeared. Beneath the streaky tan, her skin was pitted and her front teeth were stained brown with nicotine. Alexa couldn’t help wondering whether this modelling shoot was some kind of ironic attempt to boost the girl’s self-esteem.

Alexa thought about this for a moment, wondering whether she had hit on something. Was it self-esteem that made her different from the nineteen-year-old standing in front of her? Or self-respect? Alexa squirmed uncomfortably as the makeup artist surveyed her handiwork. She was trying to work out who had more self-respect: the woman who took her clothes off for a lads’ mag, or the woman who refused to do so. She couldn’t help thinking that the last six weeks had done something to dent her confidence.

‘Have you got enough clean stills?’ asked Jamie, jolting Alexa out of her thoughts. ‘I was thinking, we could do a couple of hair-bra shots – you’ve got lovely hair, Kayleigh.’

Kayleigh giggled nervously. ‘Thanks.’

The photographer nodded. ‘Good idea. Let’s give it a go.’

‘Maybe using the props?’ Jamie suggested, nodding at the desk by the window, which supported a selection of pens, papers and books that were presumably there to remind the reader that Kayleigh was a student.

The props helped, Alexa noticed. Kayleigh looked almost sassy, crawling along the desk on all fours, her buttocks raised in the air and her breasts hanging low, obscured by a thin veil of hair. On the photographer’s advice, she played with the various items of stationery provided, sucking pencils, slapping rulers against her backside and pretending to read while donning a pair of fake glasses.

‘That’s great!’ cried the videographer. ‘More please!’

‘Awesome.’ The photographer nodded at Jamie. ‘We’ve got something here.’

Alexa felt a vibration in her pocket and pulled out her phone. She had two text messages.

Of course I remember

Loopy Lara. Didn’t she

only eat pink food or

sthing? Horrible little

brat. Wouldn’t wish her

on my worst enemy. xL

Alexa smiled and opened the message from Matt.

Is she hot? Would

U be tempted . . .?

She stifled a laugh. Matt had seemed genuinely concerned about the risk of Alexa being ‘converted’, having latched on to some bizarre idea that girl-on-girl action was something that happened quite frequently, out of the blue. He had obviously been reading too much Banter, she thought wryly.

She’s young. Currently

posing for a ‘knee bra’

shot. Extremely turned

on. Ax

Alexa tucked her phone away and refocused on the action. Jamie seemed to be pleased with how things were going.

‘Well done, Kayleigh. That’s really great. Are you okay to do a few topless shots now?’

Kayleigh nodded, slowly reaching round and gathering the dark locks of hair to reveal her full, heavy breasts.

‘That’s good,’ said Jamie, under his breath. ‘They’re real. The readers prefer real ones.’

Alexa nodded, watching as the photographer directed Kayleigh to sit on the chair, open her legs and straighten her back. She didn’t feel right. Perhaps it was the muted references to various parts of the girl’s body that bothered her. Jamie seemed respectful enough, but Alexa couldn’t help noticing the way his brief exchanges with the photographer centred around Kayleigh’s hair, thigh or breasts as though they were parts of a mannequin in a window display.

‘Okay!’ The photographer eventually ran out of poses and started checking through his shots. ‘I think we’re done.’ He beckoned for Kayleigh to take a look. ‘Loads of great stuff here.’

Kayleigh grabbed her bra from the floor and pulled it on, her inhibitions visibly returning.

‘Oh my God!’ Kayleigh gasped as she caught sight of herself on the screen. ‘I look like a real model!’

The photographer smiled modestly, flicking through a selection for the girl to see. Alexa wondered what it must be like to see topless photographs of yourself, knowing that in a couple of weeks’ time, they would be plastered across the back pages of a national magazine. She couldn’t help feeling a shudder of panic on Kayleigh’s behalf.

The videographer caught Jamie’s eye. ‘Can we do a few words to the camera?’

‘Oh yes, of course.’ Jamie wandered over to the tripod and gently interrupted. He was very genteel, noted Alexa. They all were. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but perhaps she had foreseen an element of seediness in today’s shoot – a lewd remark or possibly some inappropriate gestures. There had been nothing like that. The only crudeness at Banter, as far as she could tell, went on behind women’s backs – in the office upstairs.

The videographer checked the settings on his camera and looked at Kayleigh, who was subtly plumping her breasts inside her bra.

‘I want you to say “Hi, I’m Kayleigh and you’re watching Banter TV.” Okay?’

Kayleigh nodded, looking down to check on her cleavage. She suddenly looked nervous again.

‘Ready when you are.’

‘Hi, I’m Banter TV and . . . oh, sorry.’

‘That’s okay.’ The videographer smiled. ‘Try again.’

‘Hi, I’m Kayleigh and – sorry. What was it again?’

‘Don’t panic. Just take it slowly. It’s “Hi, I’m Kayleigh and you’re watching Banter TV.”’

‘Okay.’ Kayleigh took a deep breath and looked down the barrel of the video camera. Then she turned away, flushed and exasperated. ‘Oh God. I can’t do it!’

Jamie wandered over, offering a glass of water.

‘Hey, Kayleigh, there’s no rush. We can take all afternoon if you like.’

Alexa admired his tact. She knew how much work Jamie had on his plate upstairs; he was always the last to leave the office at night. He certainly wouldn’t want to take all afternoon.

With a shaky hand, Kayleigh returned the empty glass to the pictures editor and flashed him an apologetic look.

‘Tell you what,’ said Jamie. ‘Just do a dry-run. No pressure; we’ll leave the camera off and you can just practise what you’re going to say.’

‘Okay.’ She nodded. ‘Right.’ Kayleigh looked darkly into the camera and in a slow, sexy voice, growled: ‘Hi, I’m Kayleigh and you’re watching Banter TV.’

The videographer smiled. ‘Got it.’

Kayleigh frowned. ‘What d’you mean? That was a practice.’

‘Oh, I must have left the camera running by mistake.’ The videographer glanced at Jamie. ‘That’s lucky, isn’t it?’

Alexa had to stop herself from laughing. Kayleigh was an ideal candidate for ‘Brainy Banter’.

She looked at her watch. Strictly speaking, they were ten minutes into Kayleigh’s ‘exam’, but the junior editor who was supposed to be asking the questions had wandered off in search of a pen and hadn’t been seen since. She was about to suggest popping upstairs to find the young man when the door flew open to reveal a windswept-looking Paddy, towering in the doorway, panting.

‘Hey!’ He made a half-hearted attempt at taming his wild, curly hair as he looked around the room, his eyes settling on the lingerie-clad student. ‘Sorry I’m late. I’m stepping in as exam master. Had to track down some questions.’

Kayleigh smiled timidly. Alexa breathed a sigh of relief. Paddy, she was beginning to realise, was one of the gems shining out from a mixed team at Banter. She raised a hand to the lad in a gesture of appreciation.

‘I’m Paddy,’ he said, bounding over. ‘Pleasure to meet you.’

‘Kayleigh,’ she replied, shaking his hand.

‘You can put your clothes on if you like,’ suggested Jamie, quietly.

Quickly, Kayleigh slipped on a translucent white blouse and a leather skirt, perching nervously at the desk, opposite Paddy.

Alexa wondered whether it was fair for her to stick around while the questions were asked. The photographer and videographer were already packing away. She doubted that exam conditions were necessary, but it didn’t seem fair for her to listen in. Her phone buzzed.

I knew it. I will have

to remind U tonight of

what U would miss if

you turned . . . Mmm,

looking forward to it.

Alexa hid her smile as she tucked away her phone. Paddy had already started the exam.

‘You’re at Leeds Uni, right?’ he asked. ‘Studying Sociology and hoping to get . . . a third?’

Kayleigh nodded.

‘And most importantly . . . you’re a 32DD, right?’

Alexa watched as the junior editor glanced approvingly at the girl’s flimsy top. There it was again: the blatant reference to parts of Kayleigh’s body as though they were joints of ham.

‘Okay . . . let’s begin. What is the main ingredient of the German dish, sauerkraut?’

‘Um . . .’ Kayleigh’s face crumpled. ‘Sausage?’

Paddy smiled. ‘That’ll go down well with the readers.’

Alexa followed Jamie out, trying not to cringe as Kayleigh struggled to decide whether a baby fox was called a cub or a puppy.

‘Jamie?’ she said, as the lift started to propel them up to the fifth floor. ‘D’you think, generally, we’d do better to get some higher-calibre models in for our features?’

He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. ‘You mean models with a higher IQ?’

Alexa shook her head. She knew that intelligence, sadly, was not a desirable trait for the girls. ‘No, I mean . . . more professional models. Ones that know how to love the camera.’

Jamie started to smile. ‘You don’t have any brothers, do you?’

She frowned. ‘No.’

‘I only ask because if you did, then you’d know that the thing about Banter and all the other lads’ mags – the thing that makes them sell – is not using chic glamour models who love the camera.’

‘What?’

‘They want photos of the girl-next-door. Or rather, they want photos of their fantasy of the girl-next-door. Chicks like Kayleigh . . . perfect.’

‘But . . .’ Alexa was struggling to understand what he meant. ‘All the airbrushing and touching up that you do . . . surely that’s because the readers want pictures of the perfect woman?’

Jamie motioned for Alexa to exit the lift before him. He was shaking his head and smiling.

‘Nope. They want her to look sexy, but approachable. They want to believe that they can get their hands on tits like Kayleigh’s – that girls like Kayleigh will let them into their pants.’ He leaned forward and yanked open the door. ‘Sexy, but rough. That’s what we do best.’

Alexa headed back into the office, lost in thought.

‘And the best bit?’ he said, eyes twinkling.

She looked at him.

Jamie smiled. ‘We don’t have to pay them a penny.’