Carol practised her ‘Hello Boys’ pout, then popped the mirror back in the pocket of her ankle-length trench coat. Nearly went on her arse, as her heels slipped on the stupidrocks. ‘Could we no’ve gone down the beach? Break my sodding ankle on this shite...’
Kyle grinned back at her. ‘Nah, come on, Caz; be brilliant, this.’ She should dump him really. I mean, a twenty-two-year-old should be aman, not a glekit wee nyaff. She deserved to be with...a muscle-bound high-flying hunk, not some scarecrow-in-a-tracksuit who looked as if his lightbulb wasn’t entirely screwed in.
But she needed a cameraman, and he had his own laptop to do the editing, so there you go.
Kyle fiddled with the handheld gimbal mount, fixing his iPhone into place. Poking away at the screen, then holding the thing up, ready to go. ‘You wanna rehearse or something?’
Cheeky sod.
‘You saying I don’t know my business? I know my business. Cos I’m aprofessional.’ Treating him to a contemptuous hair flick. ‘Let’s do this.’
She unbuttoned her trench coat, revealing a lime-green bikini skimpy enough to give thePopepalpitations, slipped out of the coat, and laid it carefully out of shot, on the bank, amongst the weeds. ‘Make sure you get me and the river and the bridge.’ Pointing across the river. ‘No one wants to see that bloody sports club,orfootball pitch,orcare home.’
‘Gotcha.’ Kyle shifted about, framing the scene.
Carol wobbled along the pebbles a bit, arms out for balance, because she was definitely going to break an ankle in these bloody heels.
Catwalk turn.
Hands on hips.
Sassy pose.
Pouty lips.
Girly voice – because God forbid men should have to deal with an actual grown-up confident woman: ‘Hey,lovelysubscribers, it’s your favourite Only Fans sensation,Penny Thistle, with...’
Oh, for Christ’s sake.
Kyle was waving at her.
She dropped the sugar-and-spice shit.‘What?’
‘Wasn’t recording. Gotta wait till I say “action”, yeah?’
‘Gahhh! I wasperfect!’ But she gave herself a little shake, resumed opening positions – back to the camera, arms by her sides – because she was a professional. ‘Well? Go on then!’
‘Aaaaaaaaaaand...action!’
Turn, pose, pout – girly voice: ‘Hey,lovelysubscribers, it’s your favouriteOnly Fans sensation, Penny Thistle, with another video just...’
Cheesy organ music blared out from the road above, as some inconsiderate bastard drove past.
She glared up the riverbank, past the rippling pink sea of rosebay willowherb, to where a multicoloured car was puttering past, going ‘bang’ and letting out puffs of pink and blue smoke.
Then a loudhailer added to the din:‘Roll up! Roll up! The greatest show on Earth: for two more nights only, in Westburn Park!’
Carol stomped a high-heeled foot. ‘OH FORFUCK’SSAKE!’
Kyle lowered the camera. ‘Cut.’
She clenched her entire body and howled it at whatever clowns were ruining her scene: ‘WE’RE TRYING TO SHOOT A VIDEO HERE, YA BUNCH OF PRICKWANKS!’
‘Come see the Rumplington Brothers’ Circus of Delights! All the fun of the fair!’
Carol jammed both middle fingers up towards the disappearing car, teeth bared, everything trembling as the last puffs of baby blue and pale pink faded away.
Then a snarl.
