Markovitz sighed, extracted the roll of film from the camera, licked the flap, sealed it up and, taking another roll from the assistant, replaced it.
‘Turn over,’ he said. ‘Bury your face in the sheets, stick your ass in the air, and freeze in that position.’
‘I can’t freeze when I’m absolutely baking,’ I snapped.
‘Hold it,’ said Markovitz, ‘hold it. That’s fan-bloody-tastic. Come over and have a look, Andreas.’
Andreas joined him. They conferred in low voices, then Andreas came and sat down on the bed beside me, filling up my glass.
‘You’re too uptight baby,’ he said. ‘You’re not coming across.’
‘How can I when you’re all here gawping at me?’
It was like the times when I was a child and my mother insisted on being present when the doctor examined me.
‘You’ll have to try.’ And once again I realized how much he was enjoying my utter humiliation, paying me back for all the times I’d put him down in the past. I lay back on the bed.
‘Open your legs a bit further, open wide, that’s lovely,’ said Cy, clicking away. Any moment he’d ask me to say ‘ah’. After this was all over, I supposed I could go out and throw myself over Westminster Bridge.
Gabriel was still whisking about, adjusting plants, his bronzed, hairless pectorals gleaming in the lights.
‘Why don’t we dress her up as a nun and let Angelica seduce her?’ he said. ‘Then it wouldn’t matter her looking so uptight.’
‘That’s an interesting thought,’ said Andreas.
There was a knock on the door. One of the assistants unlocked it, and let in a girl in a red dress with long black hair, and a pale, witchy, heavily made-up face. She looked furious and vaguely familiar. Perhaps miraculously she was going to take over from me.
‘Hi, Angelica,’ said Markovitz. ‘Go and get your clothes off. We’ll take a break for ten minutes.’
‘She was on the gatefold of Penetration this month,’ said one of Gabriel’s minions. ‘The blurb said Daddy was a regular soldier and that Angelica was reading philosophy at university, and spent the vacation pottering round ruins.’
‘You could hardly call Andreas a ruin,’ said Gabriel.
Andreas opened another bottle of champagne.
‘I’ve booked a table at Skindles’ tonight,’ he said, caressing my shoulder with a moist hand. ‘I thought in this heat it’d be nice to get out of London.’
He took a powder puff from one of Cy’s assistants, and carefully took the shine off my nose. Tears of utter despair stung my eyelids.
‘If you could find a horse,’ said the other of Gabriel’s minions, ‘she’d make a stunning Godiva.’
‘Shut up,’ hissed Gabriel. ‘There’s a riding school round the corner. I’ve had enough hassle getting that bloody cat.’
A few minutes later Angelica emerged from behind the curtain, wearing only a red feather boa and a corn plaster. She walked sulkily up to the bed, looking at Andreas with the mixture of terror and loathing such as a lion might regard a sadistic ringmaster.
‘You’ve already met Angelica Burton-Brown, haven’t you Octavia?’ said Andreas. He seemed to be laughing at some private joke.
‘I don’t think so,’ I began, then realized that she was one of the tarts Andreas had brought down to Grayston. She was now glaring in my direction. Clytemnestra could hardly have looked more blackly on Agamemnon.
‘Come and lie down, Angelica,’ said Andreas, patting the bed.
She stretched out beside me, her black-lined eyes not quite closed. Underneath each false eyelash was a millimetre of dark venomous light raying straight in my direction. Trust Andreas to set up a scene that tortured both past and intended mistress.
‘How’s that?’ he said to Cy. ‘They make a good contrast, don’t they? Profane and not-so-Sacred Love.’
I got to my feet and reached under the bed for the dressing gown. ‘You’ve finished with me then?’
Andreas put a heavy hand on my shoulder, pressing me down again.
‘On the contrary,’ he said, ‘we’re only just beginning. Put the Nun’s headdress on Angelica,’ he said to Gabriel.
She looked so utterly ridiculous — talk about sour Angelica — that I was hard put not to giggle with hysterical laughter. But not for long; the next moment Andreas had hung a cross round my neck.
‘Kneel beside her, Angelica,’ he went on. ‘That’s right, as close as you can.’
I felt as though great toads were crawling all over me. I gazed down at the cross hanging between my breasts. Perhaps if I held it up to Andreas, he would suddenly age hundreds of years and shrivel into dust like Count Dracula.
‘Now put your hand on Octavia’s shoulder,’ he said. I jumped away as I felt her fingers.
‘No!’ I screamed. ‘No! I won’t do it, I won’t!’
‘Cut it out,’ said Andreas. ‘Do you want two grand or not?’
I looked at him mutinously; then I remembered Xander and nodded.
Angelica looked about as cheerful as a cat with toothache. She’d obviously never had bread like that from him.
Andreas ruffled the sheets round us, and gazed into the viewfinder.
‘Very nice,’ he said softly. ‘A bit more amiable, both of you.’ Cy took over again.
‘Put your hand on Octavia’s throat, Angelica,’ he said.
I steeled myself, feeling the tense hatred in her fingers. The sweat was glistening on her black moustache.
‘Lovely,’ said Cy. ‘Now slide your hand down a bit Angelica, and down a bit further.’
I couldn’t bear it, even for Xander, I couldn’t take any more. I shot a despairing supplicating glance at Andreas and was appalled by the expression of suppressed excitement on his face. I felt the tears coursing down my cheeks.
Then suddenly there was a tremendous crash outside. Everyone jumped, as someone started pummelling on the door.
‘It’s the fuzz,’ squeaked Gabriel in excitement, patting his curls.
‘You can’t go in there,’ screamed a female voice. ‘The studio’s booked.’
‘Oh yes I bloody can,’ shouted a voice.
There was another tremendous crash, the door seemed to tremble, then suddenly caved in. I gave a gasp, half of relief and half of horror, for in the doorway, fierce as ten furies, terrible as hell, stood Gareth. Slowly he looked round the room, taking in first Cy, then Andreas and his hood cronies, then finally me on the bed with Angelica. With a whimper I pulled one of the satin sheets round me.
‘What the bloody hell’s going on?’ he howled, walking across the studio towards me. ‘You whore, you bloody cheap whore! I might have known you’d end up like this. Get your clothes on.’
Andreas moved towards him.
‘Take it easy, big boy,’ he said softly. ‘Don’t get so excited.’
Gareth turned on him.
‘You lousy creep,’ he hissed. ‘I know how long you’ve been scheming to get your dirty hands on her. I’ll get you for this. Go on,’ he added, out of the corner of his mouth, to me. ‘For Christ’s sake, get dressed.’
I stood up, still too frightened to move.
‘How on earth did you know she was here?’ asked Gabriel, looking at him with admiration.
‘Andreas shouldn’t go round boasting in restaurants,’ said Gareth. ‘These things get overheard.’
‘Look, wise guy.’ Andreas was talking slowly and patiently now, as though he was dictating to an inexperienced secretary. ‘You’re gatecrashing a very important party. Cy’s booked for the day, and so’s Octavia, and neither of them for peanuts. She needs the money, don’t you Octavia?’
Gareth glanced in my direction. I nodded miserably.
‘So you can’t come barging in here making a nuisance of yourself,’ said Andreas.
‘Oh, can’t I?’ said Gareth with ominous quiet.
There was a long pause; then, suddenly, he went berserk. Turning, he kicked Cy’s camera across the room, then he smashed his fist into Cy’s face, sending him flying after the camera. The next moment he’d laid out Cy’s assistant with a punishing upper cut. Then Vic the hood picked up a rubber plant and hurled it at Gareth, who ducked just in time and, gathering up another plant, hurled it back.