‘I put myself on the line there, Maya. Being photographed in a size 24 swimsuit isn’t something I would do just because I want three million women to see how fat I am…’ Olivia jabs at her computer keyboard with a sharp talon as she tries to get her machine to restart. A kaleidoscopic pinwheel of doom enrages her further.
‘I know, Olivia. You’re a brilliant, beautiful, fierce woman – and Cressida can’t handle you. She doesn’t know what to do with all that sass of yours. It was a brave suggestion.’
‘It was a fucking refreshing suggestion. Good for Alex. If sales of FASH+ clothes are going through the roof, then at some point Cressida is going to have to start acknowledging the fact that big girls are our customers too – and big girls need representing on the home page!’
Maya types in her password and opens up ‘Trending Trousers’ – the file she had been wanting to work on for the hour and a half she was stuck in the meeting, going round in circles again with Cressida.
‘I know. But Cressida’s a body fascist, she won’t ever get it.’
‘But it’s dangerous, Maya. I’ve seen the way she looks at Emma lately, as if having a baby is disgusting.’
Maya couldn’t help but notice too – since Emma has been looking pleasingly pregnant, Cressida has made a few comments about her size and how she ought to ‘rein in the whole eating for two thing’.
‘I’ll talk to Lucy,’ says Maya, leaning over to press a shortcut on Olivia’s keyboard that gets everything working again.
‘You’re a genius,’ Olivia winks. ‘What would we do without you, Maya?’
*
James sits on the beach watching pale gold sand trickle through the gap between his big toe and its neighbour. Once the last of the grains has trickled through he starts all over again, scooping a pile up onto his toes and watching it slide away.
He puts a hand on his brow to his eyes while he gazes out to sea, much calmer than it was at sunrise. Flat, clear, turquoise once more.
Lisa and Yoshie are drinking colourful cocktails as they sit on the seafloor in the shallows, grateful to James and Dominic for giving them the best hair and make-up gig anywhere in the world right now. James is comforted by the distant sound of their laughter but doesn’t listen to what they’re saying to each other. He hears a familiarly ungainly gait approach from behind.
‘He’s just left for the airport, the mother of all hissy fits.’
James’s gaze is unbroken, he keeps looking out to sea.
‘He said he was used to my sniping and bitching, but when you gave him shit, enough was enough. He’s the talent apparently, and he doesn’t like being questioned.’
‘Fuck him then, I’ll take the photos,’ says James, snapping out of a daydream. ‘Joe can assist. I was just suggesting a better angle. And if I know you can’t shoot a portrait straight into the glaring sun and Pez doesn’t, then he’s not much of a talent.’
Dominic’s little circle of a mouth sits open in shock. He’s never heard James be so feisty at work. Or out of it.
‘And we’re not paying him, he’s been nothing but a pain in the arse. He walked out on the job. He didn’t fulfil his part of the contract.’
Dominic nods and sits down next to James on the sand. ‘Where’s Lena Molina?’
James looks back out to sea. ‘When Pez stormed off, Lena realised she ought to have a tantrum too, so I guess she’s gone to powder her ego.’
‘What happened with you two anyway? Why will she only deal with me today? She’s barely talked to me all trip. Until now. Although she’s still calling me Damian…’
‘She couldn’t understand why I didn’t want to take her back to my cabaña last night.’
‘James, why the fuck didn’t you take her back to your cabaña last night? When will you ever have the chance to sleep with a supermodel again?’
James’s soulful chocolate eyes look back down at the trickling sand between his toes.
‘I saw her Dominic. It put me off.’
‘Saw her? But have you actually seen her? She’s so fucking beautiful, I’m too intimidated to look her in the eye, let alone tell her I’m not called Damian.’
‘No, I really saw her. When I’m photographing someone, what I sometimes don’t notice in real life I see through the lens.’ Sand trickles. ‘And when I looked through Pez’s lens yesterday to check his shot I… I saw her. And I just didn’t like her.’
Dominic exhales exasperatedly and slaps his own forehead with a meaty palm.
‘That’s why Pez had a strop, you kept checking his shots!’
‘I suppose it’s why, in eleven years, I didn’t take many pictures of Kitty. She was beautiful. She was photogenic. But what I saw through the lens made me sad.’
James drops his Wayfarers from his head onto the bridge of his tanned nose to shield his eyes.
‘Mate, you seem quite melancholic still. Are you OK? All this trouble-in-paradise craziness aside… I know we don’t really talk about that shit, but are you OK?’
James looks at Dominic in his sun-cream-stained off-white T-shirt and black and white board shorts and smiles. ‘Yes mate, totally. I’m going to be all right. It was absolutely for the best.’
‘What about that bird on the train who gave you the note?’
James thinks of a gently freckled face. The curve of a smooth collarbone in a carriage full of spring optimism.
‘What about her?’
‘Does she still get your train?’
‘I don’t see her so much. Actually I think I saw her standing further back down the platform the other day.’
James’s brow furrows as he wonders why Maya Flowers moved now when she hadn’t changed carriage before, but he doesn’t say it out loud.
‘Well she’s probably embarrassed. Who wouldn’t be? Plus if you’re not gonna sleep with a supermodel I’m guessing a stalker on the train might not be up to scratch either.’
James suddenly feels uncomfortable and shifts his position on the sand. ‘What about you and Josie anyway? While we’re getting all giddy on ourselves and talking about girls. How are things with you?’
‘Ah, you know she’d love it here,’ Dominic says, swerving the question.
James looks at him, expectant. He can see through Dominic; they have played, pitched and swerved together since they were eighteen.
Dominic looks back, knowing he is transparent.
‘Well, you know I did want to run something past you but didn’t want to bring you down when you’re feeling a bit, you know…’
‘Go on…’
Dominic scratches his head with a sandy hand. ‘I’m thinking of asking Josie to marry me. Is that weird?’
James smiles and stands up, opening his arms. ‘This is the part where I give you a manly hug. Don’t leave me hanging.’
Dominic stands and loosely pats James on the back before James lifts his stocky friend off the ground.
‘Soppy twat,’ Dominic scolds.
‘I think it’s a wonderful idea. Do it.’
Arms relax around each other and James and Dominic laugh.
Lena sashays back across the sand in a white string bikini.
‘Knock it off guys, is this what your problem is?’ she shoots at James.
He looks back at her despairingly and holds his palms up to the sky.
‘OK let’s get back to work,’ commands Dominic, buoyed by his friend’s enthusiasm. ‘Joe!’ he beckons to the beach bar. ‘You’re assisting James. Lisa, Yoshie, can you just look at Lena again, give her a quick refresh. We only have a few hours left here, let’s make them count.’