smiled at his compliment. ‘I don’t mind. If you want to take my picture…’
‘Well, we’ve been courting for ages now, Clover, and it’s a sin that I haven’t got a studio photo of you. And the light is perfect, look. Bright and hazy. No hard shadows.’
‘All right,’ she agreed easily. ‘As long as I can take one of you as well.’
He laughed at that and said she could as he took the key from his pocket and opened the front door. They entered into a small foyer, with examples of his best work hanging in frames from a picture rail, and a small carved counter facing the door where transactions were concluded. Plush velvet curtains hung from a brass rail along the side wall and similar drapes, tied back, adorned the deep window. Tom led her through the door into his studio which was, by now, familiar in any case, since she’d called on him a few times while he was working. Tom had had the room extended in the fashion of a conservatory to make best use of the soft north light, with a glass roof and vertical windows that stretched to the floor. Roller blinds had been fitted to the roof windows to adjust the intensity of light, and rich floral curtains hung from floor to ceiling. Two of the solid walls of the studio were decorated to look like the drawing-room of some stately home, even with a false, but very ornate door and frame let into one wall. Odd pieces of furniture stood randomly; props that could be included in a photo as required. A mahogany whatnot stood with a shiningly healthy aspidistra sitting on top in a brass pot. There was a screen, several armchairs in various styles, all ornate, a variety of occasional tables that subjects might rest their backsides on for a jaunty pose, a music stool, a chaise-longue that looked soft and comfortable, and a soft bearskin rug on the floor.
‘How do you want me to pose?’
‘Oh, all ways.’
She thought she detected a sparkle of mischief in his eyes. ‘No, you must tell me, Tom. I’ve never had my picture taken in a studio before. You’ll have to suggest something.’
He was fiddling with his plate camera. ‘Well, we can have one of you reclining, one sitting, one standing, full length, three-quarter or just head and shoulders. Personally, I’d like one full length and a head and shoulders. You choose the pose, Clover. Just be yourself.’
She stood with her hands on the whatnot, partially hidden by the aspidistra.
‘No, stand to the side of it, my love. The damned plant’s hiding you…Yes, that’s better.’ He bent down to look through the class screen and pulled the dark cloth over his head. ‘Thrust your bosom out a bit, Clover…Ooh, lovely.’ He focused the image and emerged from under the black cloth. He smiled as he inserted a plate into the rear of the camera. ‘That looks good. Now…A nice smile…Smiling is a part of your nature, Clover, so I want to see a smile.’
She smiled.
‘Don’t forget to thrust your chest out a little…That’s good. Hold that.’ He pressed the shutter release bulb and Clover stood perfectly still.
The next was a head and shoulders portrait, three-quarter face, which captured her exquisite nose to perfection, although Tom deliberately did not say so for fear of protest.
‘I think I’d like one of you reclining like some Greek goddess now,’ he suggested. ‘Like those girls in paintings by Alma-Tadema in diaphanous dresses, lounging on animal skins draped over marble. Have you seen them?’
She laughed dismissively. ‘Not that I can recall.’
‘As lifelike as any photograph, except they’re in colour.’
‘But there’s no marble to drape myself over,’ Clover replied.
‘I know. Pity. We’ll have to make do with the chaise-longue.’
Clover swirled over to the chaise-longue and sat on it, half reclining. She looked up at him with all her love in her eyes and smiled. She was enjoying this experience, this attention. She only ever received loving, caring attention like this from Tom; only ever kindness and consideration. No wonder she loved him so much.
‘You don’t look comfortable, Clover,’ he said and left his camera to walk over to her. He knelt down and adjusted the folds of her dress as it draped over her legs. ‘Rest your head on the headrest and raise one arm languidly above your head…No, that doesn’t seem right…I know, pretend you have a new ring on your finger – an engagement ring for instance – and your lover has had to go away. Now you’re wistful and pining for him…Oh, yes, that’s beautiful. Can you hold that while I—’
‘Tom…Can I not do that? Please? I think it would be a bad omen.’
‘A bad omen?’
‘Yes, you photographing me looking all heartbroken because my sweetheart has gone away.’
‘Oh, Clover,’ he said, full of tenderness. He leaned forward and took her in his arms. ‘Have no fear, I’ll never leave you. I’m yours for as long as you want me, my sweetheart.’
‘Oh, Tom.’ She squeezed him and felt his cheek reassuringly against hers. ‘I love you so much. I couldn’t bear to think of losing you…even for a short time.’
‘You’re not going to lose me,’ he said. ‘Ever.’ He turned his face towards her and kissed her full on the lips, a hungry, searching kiss.
She responded as she always responded, with warmth and enthusiasm. She took his head lovingly in her hands and drank his kisses as if they were some potent wine. She closed her eyes and when his tongue passed between her lips she thrilled to the taste of him. After some minutes they broke off and he whispered how much he loved her. They kissed again, long, luxuriously, sensuously. He was still kneeling beside her and she felt his hand on her breast, gently, lovingly kneading. She made no attempt to stall him. His mouth left hers and traced a cool, moist trail down her throat as he kissed her neck. She was tingling in the most surprising places and, as she wriggled with pleasure, she slid herself down on the chaise-longue.
‘I wish there was room for me on there,’ he breathed. ‘Why don’t we lie on the bearskin?’
‘Is the door locked?’ she whispered.
He nodded and kissed her again. ‘Come on. It’ll be more comfortable. I’ll get a couple of cushions to put under our heads.’
As he gathered up two cushions from the other side of the studio, it was a delight to see her lying down on the bearskin waiting for him. The fall of her dress outlined her figure tormentingly. Never before had they been in this position and he’d never thought to engineer such an opportunity. But here she was now, lying on his rug of her own volition; this, the most beautiful girl he’d ever had the privilege of meeting, the only woman he’d ever truly, honestly loved with all his heart. And how he wanted her. By God, he wanted her so much. He could have waited but, maybe now it was time.
He lay down alongside her while she turned her head and smiled with her entire fund of affection. He raised himself up on one elbow and leaned over her, whereupon he traced a line lovingly from her hairline, over her nose and lips, to her chin. As her arms went around his neck and their lips met again in another lingering kiss, she realised she was smiling contentedly.
‘Do you love me enough, Clover…and trust me enough…to let me make love to you all the way?’ he whispered.
‘Yes,’ she breathed,
