Freeing Kirsty Ch. 05

"What are you talking about?"

"Snakes."

"Yuk! Thank God New Zealand doesn't have snakes."

"My thoughts exactly."

"Oh my, aren't you in an agreeable mood today."

It intrigued Merrick to further muse that Kirsty could elongate a conversation out of nothing like that and end it with her in the superior position. How can women be so manipulative? Perhaps he should have floored her by boldly proclaiming that she'd stolen his unspoken line that thank God New Zealand did not have snakes. Oh God, why was he thinking rubbish like this. Little wonder some men most of the time have a passing thought about women's breasts, bums or ankles; it was something positive to fill the vaccum. Really he should be thinking about something original to excite her.

Miraculously, through a hazy pink opening Merrick guessed was a window in his brain, he saw an electronic-like impulse of light and his mouth began to open with an original thought, addressed to Kirsty. "You know, it depends on the day and what selection of stuff is available to the editors but if that gorge pic gets the nod we might get front cover of 'Dream Resorts Magazine'."

Kirsty lifted slightly into the air, boredom was wiped off her face.

"Do you really believe that? Wow! What a tremendous honour that would be, for New Zealand as well as for you."

"And you."

"Me?" exclaimed Kirsty modestly. I was there only to look pretty."

"You weren't and you well know it. You were so fatigued and pissed that second night that when we had sex you just lay there."

"That's a uncharitable way of measuring one's contribution."

Merrick held out his mug for more coffee, and told her she would be inescapably linked to the feature if they got front cover as it was the magazine's policy to run a pointer on the front cover giving the name of the feature, name of the photographer, name of the writer and where the article could be found inside the magazine.

"Then the international readership of the rich and famous and those closely in their wake will read your byline at the top of the article and on at least three of your photos."

"Three?" queried Kirsty, wide-eyed. "I thought I might get the hovering chopper outside the Summit Restaurant as you seemed proud with the result. What are the other two?"

"That's for you to find out while you are completing your selection or when we jointly argue the final twenty selection."

"Oh God, you're making me nervous now. What if I miss them?"

"It will be of no consequence, you are my student. However, if you do aspire to be punished, something can be arranged," he said.

The next morning Mrs Stewart arrived at 7:00 to clean the house. Kirsty had suggested that her service could be terminated but Merrick wouldn't accept the suggestion.

"This job is an essential part of Mrs Stewart's Wednesday bolt-hole, allowing her to escape from the constant pressure of a moaning husband. Balancing that need against your unlikrly desire to dirty your hands cleaning, I must reject your suggestion."

Actually, Kirsty was pleased as she really didn't want to risk damaging her fingernails, She was even more pleased when she arose at 8:00 and Mrs Stewart immediately swooped on her to comb up her hair and do nail maintenance.

"Here's your coffee, love. This is now all part of my adjusted service. Tell me, how are you enjoying these attempts to get pregnant, or are you already there?"

Later Kirsty resumed her viewing of the transparencies, picking up her pace to try to catch up to Merrick's position.

Kirsty had bonded so well with Mrs Stewart that during a late morning coffee break she asked her to stay for lunch.

"I don't think Merrick will be too pleased eating lunch with hired help," Mrs Stewart said doubtfully.

"It doesn't matter a fuck what he thinks in that regard - I've made the decision."

"Cor, you're not just a pretty thing are you? There's obviously a bit of grunt in you. I'll stay, thank you."

Merrick didn't even comment. He saw the extra place laid and fetched an extra wine glass. The conversation flowed well and brightly and when Mrs Stewart rose to go off to her afternoon cleaning job Merrick suggested she stay for another half hour. She declined, saying her loyalty was to all her employees, to which Kirsty clapped her hands and announced, "Well said."

At 2:15 Kirsty's shriek could almost be hear across the entire suburb of Epsom.

Both she and Merrick had finished viewing all the filmstrips and had made their final selections - Merrick ending up with twenty and Kirsty twenty-four.

"I'm sorry but I just couldn't trim the number back to twenty - my last eight were all equally good."

"They won't be, and later I will teach you the shades of differences and how other influences such as continuity, subjectivity, technical merit, emotional impact all come into play. In all probability you were simply trying to pick out the twenty or so nicest looking images."

"Yes, as well as best representing our theme story."

"Oh, excellent. That is one of those extra dimensions needed in this appraisal. Now, lets see where were are in agreement."

To Kirsty's surprise and to Merrick's greater surprise, they had agreement on fourteen exposures for their top twenty. They didn't need to look at those trannies. He called for exposure eleven on film twenty-three - "One of your films, from memory," said Merrick.

Kirsty burrowed through the stack of sheets and with a triumphant smile threw in down on to the light table. Why had she missed this one?

Then followed her scream and admonishment.

"You can't submit this one! Definitely not! No! No!"

With shaky authority, Merrick said, "I'm sorry, but you are over-ruled."

"Merrick, I can't believe this - you said we would debate the final selection."

"True, but I expected you to be objective in every instance. You are display raw emotion over this one, so I'm making an autocratic decision, allowed by my power of veto."

"But that's horribly unfair. I took this as a fun picture, intending to send both women a copy of it. It was never meant to be submitted for inclusion in the selection process. Adina and Monika will be furious with me if this picture is published, they will feel violated."

"Right, keep calm. Did you say to them anything like, 'I'm taking this as a fun picture, it won't be published'?"

"No."

"Did she say anything like, 'No, don't take a photo of us like this' or 'Take the photo but promise it won't be published'?"

"No," whispered Kirsty as if conceding she was losing the confrontation.

"Well, on my desk I have a releases from all four of the team authorizing the use of each and every photograph taken of them for the exclusive use of 'Dream Resorts Magazine' and solely for the use in the illustrated article on their adventures in Queenstown photographed by Jamieson Media Services Ltd of Auckland New Zealand in October of this year. Each of them signed their authorization. Any questions?"

"No," Kirsty said, in a small voice.

"Kirsty, please listen to this: If you wish to engage in commercial photography –and I urge you to continue to do so – you must always commit to take every photograph specified, and where you take additional shots at your discretion, never take any shots that you would not wish to see published. You then protect your desires and integrity."

Nodding, Kirsty thought there was an inconsistency involved here. Merrick was implying that every exposure on very film used during the assignment belonged to the commissioning party – she could understand that. Then why had he sold the stupendous gorge shot without consulting the commissioning magazine? She felt too drained to argue.

Merrick put the strip containing the exposure at issue into the XGA DLP projector. Looking at the image blown up many times larger that it would appear in the magazine, if selected, Kirsty brightened up a little.

It really was a neat photograph. It was of Adina and Monika sitting on a bench seat in a small dressing room after their white-water rafting adventure. Their wetsuits were at their feet, their hair was wet and they had an arm around each other, and looked exhausted but were smiling weakly at the camera. They were naked, except for Adina's thong and Monika briefs. Both young women were displaying pert breasts, their tummies were taut.

Kirsty had to admit it was a lovely photo of two women in their prime. There was nothing obscene about it. Her only concern was that it might be an invasion of privacy if the two women had assumed Kirsty was taking a fun photograph, not for general exhibition.

She watched as Merrick removed the short film strip and with two deft cuts with scissors, took that image and placed it into a little bag, wrote identification notes on a sticker and stuck that to the bag, which he then folded over and sealed.

"Do you want a break, or do you wish to carry on?" he asked kindly.

"Let's finish like professionals," she said, smiling, hoping that cheered him.

One of the remaining images selected was the foursome abseiling, with two of the party standing at the base, holding the safety ropes. Not far above them was Al from Chicago, the expression on his face looking as if he wished he was back home in bed, while above him smiling and leaning down offering an encouraging hand was the sweet-faced Monika.

"Yes, I see the high impression of drama now. I missed it looking at the small image, thinking that there was too much wasted space on the side of the climbers."

"Perhaps. The magazine illustration and layout design team may leave it as it is portraying four puny souls against a massive granite-like vertical cliff-face. Alternatively they may crop it tightly to allow it to be blown up to show the expressions on Al and Monika's faces more dramatically, which is the choice I would make."

The twentieth and final image was another of Kirsty's photographs, which she had been pleased with but had rejected because only part of Monika's face was showing.

On the projector it certainly told a story. Adina was sprawled at right angles over Malcolm the Scot, both appearing to be asleep. Alongside them was Al the American, arms outstretched, mouth open, and looking very much asleep from what could be seen of his face. Sitting upright against him was the Austrian professional skier Monika, looking into a mirror and applying lipstick. Behind them was the raging Kawarau River where earlier they had been white-water rafting.

"This one has to be submitted because it's a telling photographic essay," Merrick explained. "Although it was at the end of the first day shoot, in fact not long after you took that shot in the changing room, it can be cropped top and bottom to make a very suitable finale picture of four very tired international adventurers after their tremendous grueling two-day stint at accepting some of the physical challenges at 'Queenstown, Down Under'. I will suggest this on my notation on the sticker."

He smiled and suggested Kirsty have a pee and go outside on to the back patio. Merrick smiled.,"We've had rather a heavy time of it; I'll fetch the drinks."

A few minutes later he arrived on to the patio, which was bathed in late afternoon sun, carrying two glasses and a jug of freshly mixed martinis.

"This is my last word on it, I promise," Kirsty said lightly. "I now totally accept your decision on the changing room image. I acted with a touch of professional irresponsibility. I'm happy again. May I come over and sit on your lap?"

Merrick looked surprised. "Since when have you required permission?" He pulled back his chair and patted his thigh.

Two mornings later a courier called for the package addressed to the editor who'd commissioned the Queenstown adventure feature at 'Dream Resorts Magazine', based in Monaco. Kirsty was already dressed and made-up, as Merrick had told her that he wanted to take her out as soon as the courier had called.

"Where are we going," she asked, as they set off.

"To see a man, New Zealand's top designer of wedding dresses."

The squeal from Kirsty was probably heard over half of their surburb of Epsom.

* * *

The wedding invitations had gone out and all replies had come in, some invitees having to be chased for their response. There would be a party of twelve from New Zealand, plus Kirsty and Merrick who would go on ahead. Brian and Marg and their infant daughter Avon would be accompanied by Merrick's daughter Bella from Australia, released by Kate without any stipulation. She'd written to Merrick that that neither she nor their son Giles would be able to attend, and wished him a happy marriage.

Soon after that day Merrick took a phone call. He heard heavy breathing, then the deep voice said, "Spiro here, I wanna speak to Kirsty confidentially."

"Right my friend, just a moment," Merrick said bravely. "Kirsty is in the garden picking flowers, I'll take the phone to her."

There was no response, so he thought he'd said enough to indicate a sparkle of goodwill existed on his part.

Almost twenty minutes passed before Kirsty came in and said cheerfully, "They'll be attending."

"Hooray for that – so what was the secret pow-wow?"

"Understandably, he's completely confused about you. Normally he'd expect a man like you to try to put a bullet into him rather than invite him to his wedding. The thought occurred to him that because you seemed to be rather unusual, perhaps you are scheming to do it the other way round: invite him to your wedding where you would put a bullet into him."

Merrick stared at her, mouth open.

"He said that?"

"That's what I said."

"He's seen too many gangster movies."

"You more than most people ought to know by now that the old ways and old thinking haven't changed much."

Merrick nodded, saying he still thought it was bloody unbelievable. He asked what they talked about.

"The weather, our respective health, did they have a share market in New Zealand and how was it trading."

Merrick slowly shook his head as she said that.

"Then what?"

"What I said earlier; he asked were you planning to top him."

"You mean shoot him?"

"Yes, does it mean something else?"

"I wouldn't know; it's certainly unlikely to be known to every man living in Epsom or anywhere in New Zealand or Australia that I know."

"Then he asked if I minded that Meg had taken up with him."

"Oh, sure; the big guy who packs a gun and has minders would have been rather embarrassed if you had minded."

"Yes."

Merrick sat down. "I really am having difficulty in coping with this conversation, one of the weirdest conversations I've ever had, although I must admit I have already had an exceptionally weird conversation with him in New York."

"Now you're getting your head around it."

Afraid to ask exactly what she meant by that, Merrick asked what else could she report, presuming that some of the conversation with Spiro could not be repeated.

"No, I'm telling you everything. Neither of us spoke secretly. He did get a bit close to the bone, asking me were you good in bed. He thought you were sassy enough to him with a very high kick, so you ought to be good. So I generalized a bit and he seemed rather impressed."

Merrick jumped over that one, asking, "What else?"

He said it was lovely that I wanted Meg as a bridesmaid, that she'd cried and cried when she read that request.

"Good for gentle, sweet little Meg," said Merrick, with one of his last memories of her being her jacking off Spiro at the time Spiro pulled a gun on Merrick. He was damn sure gentle, sweet little Meg would not tell Kirsty about that one. In turn Meg would now assume Merrick had not said anything to Kirsty otherwise she would not have received the bridesmaid invitation.

Kirsty continued. "He asked if he could give me away, but without thinking I said no, my father would have that honor. I had the thought that perhaps he might think of having daddy incapacitated. Ilaughed and told him my ridiculous thought. He agreed it was a ridiculous thought, that the same thought had jumped into his mind but he thought that would be unfair and malicious."

Merrick sat still, eyes glazing.

"He really wouldn't do that, he has too much respect for me. Anyway, that's about all - oh, one very nice thing: he asked me what I wanted as a wedding present, to name anything I liked. He didn't say within reason, so I was tempted. Instead, I told him that was a lovely, generous thought but I would rather he be creative and think of something himself.

"We laughed ourselves silly when he said emphatically, 'Me be creative over something like that?' and then he said he'd think of something, and ended the call wishing me all the best."

"He didn't send me best wishes, did he?"

"No, but what do you expect. You thoroughly embarrassed him - you must understand that, and he still thinks you may be his assassin."

"Right, I'm sorry, I'll go and stand in the corner facing the wall."

"Come here silly, it's not your fault. Come and let mummy cuddle you."

"What, are you pregnant?" Merrick's face brightened considerably.

"No and after a negative pregnancy test I had the doctor send me to a specialist, who checked me out two days ago. Her preliminary examination indicated everything was OK. She wondered about you and when I said you had a son of fourteen and a daughter of eleven she thought you should be OK provided you hadn't suffered a bad virus or had an accident 'down there' as she put it. I said no, you never have it put away long enough to have it lying around waiting for an accident."

"You said what!" Merrick yelped.

"Sorry darling, I jest; something I learned off you."

"Get me a whisky, darling."

"It's a good hour to midday."

"I know, make it a double."

A week later Marg came down from Orewa and left baby Avon with Merrick, while she accompanied Kirsty to the fitting of the wedding dress and then to parade around shops with a piece of the material to get a pair of shoes. There had been doubt whether Merrick would be capable of looking after Avon but Kirsty settled Meg's fears by arranging to have Mrs Stewart at the ready should Merrick have need to call her.

Uncle Merrick took almost two whole films of baby Avon, who was too young to stand up but could sit supported by pillows. She loved this attention and gooed and dribbled and smiled, giving Merrick all sorts of photographic opportunities. He stapled a paper hat and attached a rose to that and Avon wore that with pride. He also put her into Kirsty's shortest black dress, bunching it up at the bottom and at the back and then stapling it many times and that careful manipulation amused Avon no end.

Finally he made a mask for her out of black paper and drew fangs down her chin with a black felt-tip pen. He did this after rejecting the idea at the last second of clearing a space and putting her in the fridge, taping an ice-cream to her tiny hand. But on reflection he decided such a pose might be a little too radical for Meg, Kirsty and possibly even Brian the father.

Avon began yawning, so Merrick prepared the bottle exactly as set out in the written instructions and Avon slowly demolished it in his arms, refusing to let go of his thumb and staring and staring at him with those gorgeous blue eyes until they finally closed.

When the two women returned excitedly, as women tend to do after shopping together, with Marg's taste of freedom and happiness tinged with just a little concern that she might no longer be a mother, they came into the living room and went crazy with oohs-and aahs. Kirsty picked up the camera on the table, noting only two exposures were left. She used them photographing Merrick lying against the sofa which squabs piled up on the other side of him to prevent Avon rolling off his chest. She was still clutching his thumb. Both were asleep.