The Art School Dance (58 page)

'I couldn’t,
it’s polluted down there, I’d choke,' she said, and left.

She left in
too much of a mood, in fact, left without even thinking to ask for
a loan. That was remiss of her. With her feet planted on the Bold
Street pavement again she looked up and cursed God, noticing that
the sky was starting to cloud over and spit on her. She would have
to shelter, sooner or later, and that would mean spending money.
She wasted the remaining hours before noon in Lewis’ department
store, playing with the electronic games in the toy department and
then strolling between the cosmetics counters, enjoying the warmth
and the fragrances and doing her best to convince herself that the
made-up girls, though desirable, were less attractive than she.

At five
minutes to twelve she ran through the rain to the ‘Corkscrew’,
thinking that with a drink inside her she might find the courage to
ask Coral to cash yet another cheque. She couldn’t possibly go to
the bank in this downpour, she would say, but was given no chance
to speak.

'Fifty quid!'
Coral shouted, before Virginia had even reached the foot of the
stairs. 'Fifty faffing quid!'

'You’ve lost
it?' Virginia asked, thinking of fingers dipped into the till to
finance a night out, or maybe books unbalanced through poor
accounting.

'Faffing well
right I have!' Coral waved a letter to which were stapled two
cheques. 'Pay, it says on these! One for thirty quid and one for
twenty! Only the bank won’t!'

'They’ve
bounced?' Virginia feared.

'Up and down
and they’re at it yet! I can’t keep the bleeders still!'

Virginia
apologised -she said she was at a loss to think what the bank was
playing at- and bought drinks for herself and Coral.

'Leave this to
me,' she said, when Coral had calmed down and settled back on her
heels, no longer towering over the bar on tiptoes like some giant
predatory thing. 'I’ll sort it out with the bank manager. He’ll
honour the cheques.'

'You’ll come
straight back here with fifty pounds in cash,' Coral insisted.

Virginia
pursed her lips. 'That could prove difficult,' she confessed. 'I’m
a bit short on funds at the moment and there’s no work coming
in.'

'Then find
some!'

Josh, behind
the bar with Coral, tugged at her sleeve and whispered in her ear.
She nodded as she listened, her lips straining around a smile. When
Josh had finished she asked Virginia if she possessed a camera, a
good one.

'No,' Virginia
replied; then, seeing Coral frown, she quickly added, 'I know where
I can borrow one, though.'

From Goomer,
if he would trust her not to sell the thing; he had all the
equipment, an enlarger as well as the camera and lenses.

'And you can
use it properly? Do you know what you’re doing?'

'You bet.'

'In that case
I’ve got a job for you. Or, rather, the bloke next door has.'

The
‘Corkscrew’ was flanked by a jewellers on one side and a sex shop
on the other; Virginia thought that Coral’s proposition might prove
interesting.

'What is it?'
she asked.

The work was
for the jeweller, of course. A minor disappointment.

'The chap
wants some photographs for a window display,' Coral explained.
'Elegant people in fetching poses, showing off his expensive
trinkets.'

'I’m one of
the beautiful people,' Josh proudly interrupted.

'Don’t get
carried away, Josh. All you have to do is flash your wrists and
neck with baubles draped around them.'

Josh was hurt
and lapsed into silence.

Coral turned
back to Virginia. 'So you do the job and I get the money.'

'All of
it?'

'Up to the
fifty pounds you owe me.'

'But I’m
skint,' Virginia protested.

'Just be
thankful to Josh you’ve still got your health. If it wasn’t for him
you’d be crawling out of here on your hands and knees.'

'Thanks,
Josh,' said Virginia, and he smiled.

'Any time I
can help.'

Chapter Eight

Goomer agreed
to the loan of the camera and Dean, God bless him, knew where he
could borrow some lights for her, so Virginia looked quite
professional, well worth the fee she would demand. In anticipation
of this she spent a last few shillings on a drink.

'What’s that?'
the barman asked, as she stacked her equipment in the corner of an
unfamiliar pub.

'An electric
pool cue.'

'Get away,' he
laughed, serving the pint she asked for, but then said, 'Is it
really?'

She shook her
head, carefully sipping her drink at the same time. 'They’re
lights,' she told him.

'So what’re
you doing, then?'

'Taking some
photographs.'

'Oh, so you’re
a photographer?' he said, and began to preen himself.

'No, not
really. I do Day-Glo posters for chippies and Chinese
takeaways.'

The barman
wandered away to serve other customers, but soon returned with more
questions. 'So what’re you photographing? Dirty snaps, are
they?'

'Why? Are you
interested in dirty pictures?'

Virginia was
sure he was, even though he feigned insult -’I’ve grown out of that
sort of thing’- as he turned away. He was a little too macho for
her tastes, though, a deep vee of chest hair showing, so rather
than hang around the bar fighting off dreams and fantasies she
drank up and went off in search of her subjects.

The first was
young, only fifteen in fact, attractive but too young for
Virginia’s tastes, and her bare neck and shoulders were
photographed adorned with gold chains and necklaces.

The second was
Virginia’s age or thereabouts, but with a sullen look which made
her seem bitchy; even her elegant hands refused to smile for
Virginia as she pointed the camera at the rings and bracelets which
covered them with a dull sunshine.

The third was
Josh, not embarrassed to be posing alongside two females, and he
was the only one who spoke to her, grinning as she circled him and
adjusted the lights on his bare chest, bringing a sparkle to the
chains he wore.

'Who are those
other two?' she asked, raising his hand to his shoulder to get a
heavy gold bracelet into shot, looking with lowered eyes at the
woman and the girl who were inspecting the items on display around
the shop.

'Search me,'
he said. 'Clarkey found them. I suspect, though, that the older one
might be his fancy woman.'

'I wouldn’t be
surprised if the dirty sod picked her up on Percy Street. She’s
about as pleasant as the pros who hang around there.'

'Now,
Virginia, don’t be so ungracious,' Josh chided. 'And don’t knock
Clarkey, either. That’s what’s known as biting the hand that feeds
you.'

'Well, he
strikes me as being a bit of a randy sod. He had his hands all over
me while he was explaining what he wanted.'

Mr Clarke came
across, resting one grey-sleeved arm on Josh’s naked shoulder. A
heavy gold wristwatch burst out from beneath a crisp white
cuff.

'Nearly
finished?' he asked Virginia.

'Nearly.'

'And how long
will the prints take?'

'Give me about
a week, I reckon. I could do them myself, only the enlargements you
want are bigger than I can handle.' She snapped off a final few
shots, then asked, 'Do you think you could advance me a bit on the
fee, to cover expenses?'

Mr Clarke
tucked his chin into his collar with a business-like frown. 'What
do you think, Josh? Can I trust your friend?'

Josh smiled.
“Oh, you can trust Virginia, Mr Clarke. The salt of the earth is
Virginia, never been known to let anyone down.'

Taking a
pigskin wallet from his inside pocket, Mr Clarke pulled out some
notes -it was packed with twenties, to save on bulk- and passed
them to Virginia. 'Sixty pounds,' he said. 'Account paid in full.
And now I’m taking everyone for a drink. Will you join us?'

It was like
Christmas, with sixty pounds in the hand and the offer of a free
drink. Virginia packed away the equipment and they went to a bar
named ‘Whispers’, a place as quiet as its name, where Mr Clarke
bought drinks for the five of them, obviously well able to afford
it. Every note produced was an unwrinkled twenty and Virginia never
saw what happened to the tatty ones which were received in
change.

'The guy must
be loaded,' she said to Josh.

He was still
the only one who talked to her, the other two probably believing
that she was below them and lacking the status of the revered
jeweller.

'Yes, he’s
lovely, isn’t he?' said Josh.

'Lovely?'

It was a
strange word to use, of one man by another, especially when it was
Josh who was speaking.

'Some people
will do anything for money, you know,' Josh grinned.

'But with him?
He’s old, obese, overdressed-'

'And loaded,
like you say?' Josh laughed at Virginia’s disgust. 'Everyone has
got something to offer, Virginia, and sometimes money can be just
as attractive as beauty, brains or wit.'

'If that’s the
case then why aren’t I fawning over him like those other two? I’m
as desperate for money as anyone.'

'Perhaps
you’re more subtle than they are,' Josh ventured. 'There again,
perhaps you prefer my company. Like I say, everyone has got
something to offer.'

Virginia, not
vain, had a little difficulty in accepting this second possibility;
her self-confidence was following the moon at this time, was on the
wane. 'What do I have to offer, then?' she asked. 'Is it beauty,
brains or wit?'

'At the moment
I suppose you can offer sixty pounds worth of entertainment,' he
said cruelly.

He took a
cigarette from her pack which was on the table, lit it and sat
back, smiling to himself and to a distant secret which might have
been hidden somewhere in the decor of the far wall. Those
superficial surfaces which Goomer had previously remarked upon
began to glow in the muted light of the bar, starkly contrasted by
the heavy black curl of hair which Josh flicked away from his brow
from time to time, revealing the even greater perfection of his
smooth skin. Had she not been in debt to Coral then Virginia would
have been more than prepared to give him sixty pounds worth of
entertainment, if only for the pleasure of having people see her in
his company.

'It’s a pity I
didn’t get any shots of your face,' she said.

Josh turned to
her. 'Oh yes? And why’s that?'

'I think I
could do some nice drawings of you, that’s why?'

'Ah! So you’re
an artist now? You’ve finally decided?'

Whether she
was or not, it would be nice to have his image somewhere, above her
bed or in her purse.

'You wouldn’t
fancy posing for me, would you?'

'Nude? You’re
not thinking of anything lurid like that, are you?'

'No, just
portraits,' she said, annoyed to feel herself blush. 'I’d find a
studio, do it properly. You wouldn’t have to come around to my
squalid flat.'

'Alright,
then. I don’t see why not.'

It was so easy
that Virginia could not believe her good fortune. She took his
telephone number -not able to remember where he lived, having been
drunk on her only previous visit- and promised to get in touch as
soon as everything was arranged.

*

She was quick
in attending to the necessary details, in finding a studio, dusting
Goomer’s lenses and even persuading Gerald to lend her his car. The
hire of a studio, although straightforward, did cause her to
wonder, though.

'How long will
you want it for?' the proprietor asked her, rubbing sweaty palms
together. He seemed curious that a woman, rather than a man, should
want to hire his studio.

'A couple of
hours should be enough,' Virginia estimated.

'And what
about a model? I have one or two chaps on the books. I can supply
fashion, portrait, glamour.”

'That’s okay,
I have my own,' she said, though she was intrigued by the
suggestive emphasis on the last category.

It was all a
little seedy, to be sure, but it was the only studio she could
find, it was cheap and the equipment was good enough for her less
than professional needs. She hoped that the location would not
offend Josh, for he looked anything but seedy as he walked along
the street towards her.

They said
hello to each other, she thanked him for coming and he said that it
was nothing, he was looking forward to the experience. All very
banal. Virginia led him to the borrowed car and they drove across
the city, only a five minute drive but in that brief time he
managed to let slip hints at a boring home life -’this is the most
exciting thing that’s happened for weeks’- at a dissatisfaction
with a marriage which offered nothing but the security of a home.
It was more honest than any conversation they had ever had in the
‘Corkscrew’ and not the kind of admission that Virginia would have
expected to be made after so brief an acquaintance. She was a
little embarrassed by his frankness if the truth were known and did
her best to discourage further talk of the matter.

The man with
the sweaty palms met them outside the studio and explained that
they would have to wait a moment, there was a ‘client’ inside. They
waited, quietly self conscious. Eventually the door opened and a
respectable middle aged man came out, lacking any photographic
equipment but escorting a busty brunette on his arm.

'Okay?' the
proprietor asked.

'Okay,' the
man smiled, and left with the girl.

They entered
the studio and Virginia was made familiar with the equipment, with
the flashometer and the umbrellas and the spare camera. An electric
fire was already switched on and made the room seem sinfully
warm.