by Claire Frost
‘And you will, sweetie. How could anyone not want to be friends with you? And, no, I’m not being sarcastic. For once I am being serious, too. Bell Makepeace, you’re a smart, funny and super-strong woman who’s going to have people queuing up to be your friend. Plus, you’re going to take some properly good pictures, I just know it.’
*
Bell still wasn’t convinced, but took a deep breath and headed for the large door on the other side of the building she’d somehow managed to miss the first time. The building itself was a fairly unappealing 1970s box with peeling white paint on the outside, and there were further buildings that had been added on at various points over the years, but as she shook out her dripping umbrella and peered inside, Bell was cheered by the bright lights and warmth coming from the reception area.
‘Don’t suppose you know where the evening classes are held, do you?’ asked a Scottish voice behind her. Bell looked back and saw a tall, willowy woman wearing a crochet dress accessorised with a boho belt, knee-high boots and a beret worn at a jaunty angle; it didn’t look like it was doing much to shelter her hair from the rain.
‘Are you here for the photography class too? I think it’s just through here. I’m Bell, by the way.’
‘Laura,’ she replied. ‘Thank god the photography class is inside. I can’t believe all those people swimming out there. You won’t catch me in my cossie in the fresh air unless I’m in the south of France.’
Bell giggled. ‘I’m excited to try it out when the weather gets a bit warmer. Maybe we’ll have another heatwave this summer.’
‘Hmm, we’ll see. Right, in here, I imagine,’ Laura said, pointing to the notice on the door of the room they’d come to at the end of the corridor.
The two of them walked into a room that instantly reminded Bell of a primary-school classroom, except the tables and chairs were made for adults. It smelled vaguely of disinfectant and biscuits, and several tables had been pushed together to form one big bank in the centre. There was a large desk at the back of the room, which Bell assumed was where their teacher would stand, and which was currently covered in equipment and sheets of paper.
‘Aha, more keen photographers, I presume! I’m Sheila.’ A short, round lady in her fifties or sixties came over to Bell and Laura and offered her hand. ‘Hi there, welcome to our first class.’
When they’d both introduced themselves and Sheila had ticked them off her list, she took them over to the three other people in the room. ‘This is Rita, Tony and, erm, forgive me, yes, Ben, that’s it.’
‘Me and Rita have been married thirty years,’ beamed Tony, shaking their hands.
‘Yes, and it’s felt like three hundred,’ deadpanned Rita. ‘We were just telling young Ben here that these classes are a Christmas present from our son Steven. I think he was so sick of all the photos we took of him when he was little with only half a head or a thumb over the flash that, now our first grandchild is due, he doesn’t want the little blighter to go through the same, eh, Tone? Ah, look, here are some more arrivals.’
As Rita and Tony went over to nosy at who else had come in the door, Bell decided she already loved them. Laura marched forward to stand intimidatingly close to Ben, who’d been lounging quietly against the wall.
‘So, you’re Ben are you? And what’s your story?’
‘W-what do you mean?’ he stammered.
‘Well, everyone has a reason for signing up for these classes, don’t they? Me, I’m convinced my husband is playing away but I need evidence, so I need to gen up on how to use this thing so I can catch them on film in flagrante, if you know what I mean!’
Both Ben and Bell stared at her open-mouthed.
‘Ach, get away, only joshing! Sure, my shite ex did do the dirty on me, but I didn’t need no photos in order to kick him out. But that’s another story. Anyway, I’m a single mum and don’t get much chance to get out and do something for myself, so thought I’d sign up for some new life skills as I managed to guilt-trip my mum into offering to babysit. It was either photography tonight or pottery tomorrow evening, so here I am. What about you?’ she asked, turning back to Ben, who looked slightly more relaxed now he knew Laura wasn’t really planning on becoming an undercover paparazzo.
‘Erm, well, I moved to the area for work a few months ago and don’t really know anyone locally, so thought this would be a good way to meet people and maybe make some friends,’ he said, gazing at the floor in embarrassment. Bell decided to step in and save him from whatever scary remark Laura was about to make next. She was baring her teeth at him in what must have been a smile, but she rather looked like she might eat him!
‘Oh good, me too,’ Bell smiled at him. ‘Although I’m not new to the area, I’ve actually lived here for ages, but, er, I didn’t realise this place was here, so I thought I’d try it out.’
Sheila clapped her hands and everyone turned towards her. ‘Right, I think everyone’s here, so if you all want to get a cup of coffee from the urn over there, and there might even be some chocolate digestives as I managed not to eat them all. And then grab a seat in the middle and let’s have a chat.’
As they went about pouring drinks, Bell could see that everyone was checking each other out with varying degrees of subtlety. Laura was staring beadily at people as they added milk to their mugs, Rita and Tony were jollying things along and making sure everyone had a drink, Ben was standing slightly apart, stirring his drink continually, and then there were the others, who Bell hadn’t been introduced to yet. She counted eight of them, six of whom all looked in their late teens and were dressed almost identically in a uniform of skinny ripped jeans, T-shirts and Converse; the three girls wore scarves tied at the front of their heads, while the boys all sported tortoiseshell glasses. The final two members of the class were a bit older, a man and woman in their mid-twenties who had clearly come together as they barely left each other’s side, even when they were making their drinks. Unsurprisingly, they chose two chairs next to each other.
‘So I thought we’d start by going round the table, introducing ourselves and telling the group one thing we’d each like to get out of these classes,’ Sheila announced, joyfully clapping her hands together. Bell’s heart sank. She hated ‘ice-breaker games’ at the best of times, and especially when it felt like they were about to begin some kind of therapy session rather than a run-through of Photoshop and aperture sizes. She caught Ben’s eye and gave him an ‘I know!’ look.
‘Right, I’ll go first,’ instructed Sheila, still beaming at them all. ‘So my name’s Sheila and I’ve been teaching photography for twenty years now. It may surprise you to know that before I started teaching I worked with models such as Twiggy and bands like The Beautiful South and Lisa Stansfield.’ A ripple of admiration went round the group as they digested the information that their tutor had actually photographed some famous people and so was probably halfway decent, though Bell could hear one of the uniformed girls next to her ask the boy beside her who Lisa Stansfield was. ‘And the one thing I want to get out of these classes is to find some new talent!’ Sheila finished with a flourish. ‘You never know, any of you in this room might turn out to be a David Bailey or Bryan Adams.’
‘Isn’t he a singer?’ whispered the girl to her neighbour.
‘Right, who’s next?’ Sheila asked. ‘Let’s go this way, so, Bell, isn’t it?’
For a second Bell froze, the nerves she’d felt earlier taking a stranglehold round her throat like tendrils. ‘Hi, I’m Bell.’ She cleared her throat, shaking off the invisible constrictions. ‘I work for a fashion website and love going to photo shoots and seeing professional photographers do their thing, so what I’d like to get out of these classes is understanding what pros do and maybe have a bit of a go myself,’ she added shyly.
Bell could feel the girl next to her sit up a little straighter in her chair when she heard her mention what she did for her job, and she smiled to herself, rather pleased she hadn’t come across as a complete loser.
&n
bsp; Next up were the uniform brigade, and she learned they were all students at the local sixth-form college and wanted to do something they could add to their UCAS form when they were applying for university later in the year, and photography sounded ‘cool’. The young couple turned out to be Lynne and Marcus who professed themselves to be ‘just best friends who want to do a hobby together’. Bell glanced at Laura when they said this and she raised an eyebrow and smirked back. Rita and Tony explained about their lack of even rudimentary photography prowess and Laura repeated her desire to learn a new life skill, ‘and maybe posh up my Insta account’.
‘Lovely!’ Sheila smiled. ‘And finally, our thirteenth member. Ben, do you want to introduce yourself?’
‘Yes, well, I’m Ben . . .’ Bell gave him an encouraging smile across the table. ‘And I used to love messing about with my dad’s old camera when I was younger but never took it any further, so I’d like to know how to use one properly. And, um, maybe make some new friends in the process.’
‘Hurray!’ declared Sheila happily. ‘Let’s give ourselves a round of applause, well done, everyone!’ The group clapped half-heartedly. ‘Call that a round of applause?’ cried Sheila aghast. ‘Come on now!’ With lots of good-natured eyerolling at each other, everyone clapped a bit harder and Rita even managed a whoop. ‘Excellent, I knew you could do it. Right, has everyone brought the most important thing with them – other than themselves – this evening? Good, so if you could all unpack your cameras and place them in front of you on the desk; don’t worry about lenses and add-ons, let’s just see what we’re dealing with and then I can examine your equipment properly.’
The group broke into a collective snicker, but half an hour later they’d all had their equipment intimately examined by Sheila and she called them back together.
‘Right, it seems we have quite an array of different cameras among us,’ she said. ‘So I think the best way forward is for us to split into a few smaller groups. Let’s say Rita and Tony as you’re sharing a camera, and then Lou and Mel, why don’t you join them. And Lynne and Marcus, you could form a group with Ian, Paul, Matt and Lisa, yes? And then that leaves Laura, Bell and Ben. Excellent. Does each group want to take a corner of the room and why don’t you tell each other what you already know about the cameras you’re holding and then we’ll come back together and one person from each sub-group can report back to us all about what you’ve learned. Brilliant, this is going to be great fun!’ Sheila clapped her hands together again and the class slowly began to split into three huddles.
‘Pff, I’m glad I’m not stuck with those teenagers,’ Laura grinned at Bell and Ben. ‘I imagine their idea of a camera is an iPhone Ten.’
‘Well, smartphones are not to be sniffed at,’ Ben said quietly. ‘Especially when they cost the best part of a grand.’
‘Christ, I paid a couple of hundred for my camera and I thought I was splashing out,’ Laura shrugged. ‘Ach well, I’m sure it will do the job, but I know next to nothing about what any of the bits do. What about you, Bell, do you have any idea about yours – that looks like the real deal?’
‘Well, I bought it off my brother-in-law for a steal as he was going to eBay it,’ she confessed. ‘So who knows. But I’ve had a bit of a play around with it at home and it seems pretty techy. I know it’s got sixteen megapixels and I’ve got some extra lenses I can attach to it, but other than that, I’m not really sure.’
‘Shit, I hope you know a bit more than us, Ben, or we’re going to look like right numpties,’ Laura cackled.
‘Well, I’m no expert, but I think mine is basically a newer model of yours, Bell, so it’s got a few more megapixels and a three-inch touchscreen, and can take video in 4k rather than just HD,’ he explained. Bell nodded along, but Laura just shook her head.
‘I hope Sheila remembers this is a beginners’ class – I barely understand megapixels let alone anything else. Right, well, Ben, you best be our speaker. Now we’ve got that out of the way, what do you think about the rest of the group?’
‘They seem nice?’ Ben said non-committally.
‘Although I don’t know which of the uniform brigade is Lou and which is Ian, to be honest,’ Bell said as Laura cackled again. ‘Rita and Tony are great, aren’t they? And who knows about Lynne and Marcus, they seem to have quite a close “friendship”.’
‘Ha, you’re hilarious, Bell! Well, I think us three should stick together. We’re all around the same age, aren’t we? I’m forty-one. Ben, you must be about that? Forty-two? Well, you look good on it! And Bell, I’m guessing you’re late thirties.’
‘Yep, I’m forty later this year.’ Bell blanched.
‘See, thought so. Anyway, looks like Sheila wants us back in the group now. Come on, let’s see if the others know anything at all about the great big hunks of black plastic in their hands.’
*
An hour later, everyone was packing their stuff away, their minds awash with new information.
‘Don’t forget your homework is to take a photograph that sums up who you are and then we’ll discuss them all next week. If you could email me your pics by next Monday evening, I can put them all on to a memory stick and we can use the centre’s big TV to display them. Right, it’s been a joy, class dismissed!’ Sheila cried, clapping her hands together. Everyone followed her lead and started clapping and Laura joined in with Rita and Tony’s whooping.
‘Aww, that was fun, don’t you think?’ Laura asked Bell and Ben as the three of them said their goodbyes and walked outside to the puddle-filled car park, though the rain seemed to have stopped for now at least. ‘Shall we swap numbers? I’m going to need someone to WhatsApp later in the week when I’m failing to take a good picture that “sums up who I am”, whatever that means!’
Armed with her new friends’ details, Bell strolled towards her house, occasionally grinning as she relived some of the evening’s more hilarious moments. The uniform brigade had taken the show-and-tell about their cameras pretty seriously, but Rita had been the spokesperson for her group and it seemed she and Tony knew even less than Laura when it came to technical specs. The whole class had been in hysterics when she’d attempted to explain how her camera worked: ‘Well, there’s an On button and a screen, and then I think you just press the big red photo button and you’re done!’ Sheila had assured them she would explain all the basics like focal length and aperture as the classes went on, and Ben had nodded beside her, clearly knowing more about what this all meant than the rest of them. Bell thought that he was a bit of an enigma. Good-looking, pretty fit – yes, Bell had noticed his biceps! – pleasant and friendly if a bit quiet; she was surprised he had struggled to make any friends locally.
‘You could say the same about yourself – except for the muscles!’ she heard Suze’s voice say in her head. God, now she was hearing voices. It had been a long day and it was only when she was scrabbling around in her bag for her keys that Bell remembered that she’d bumped into a lady with her son before she’d gone inside for the class. At the time, she’d been ninety per cent certain it had been Millie/@mi_bestlife and her son Wolf, but now, hours later, she wasn’t so sure. Although, how many kids were called Wolfie, for god’s sake? And the woman did seem to have the same dark hair as the girl she’d seen arguing on her phone a few weeks ago, though today she hadn’t noticed it was gorgeous and glossy like last time. But it had to have been her, surely? Bell grabbed her phone, clicked the Instagram app and scrolled through her feed in search of a post from @mi_bestlife.
‘Aha, here we go.’
Such a lovely afternoon seeing my water baby swim a whole length of the pool today – watch out for him at the 2020 Olympics! #waterbaby #MiniOlympian #thisisfive #myboy
The picture that accompanied it was of a tranquil pool, softly lit by rays of yellow light, and a cute little boy grinning out from the water. Bell zoomed into the picture and could see his fingers were white from clinging on so tightly to the side of the pool, and his thin little arms were spotted
with goosebumps. ‘Poor kid!’ she exclaimed out loud. The image had clearly used all of Photoshop’s many enhancements, as well as several Instagram filters. If Bell didn’t know better, she would have sworn that Wolfie was smiling out from a gorgeous private pool somewhere in the Med – and it seemed Mille’s followers were just as convinced, from the many comments hashtagged with #enjoyyourholibobs and #bringonthesunshine. She shook her head, amazed at the apparent difference between Millie’s Insta life and her actual life.
Chapter Twelve
Bell
Despite now knowing the exact route she needed to take, Bell hadn’t been able to stop herself racing across town from work to her photography class every Wednesday, so more often than not she found she had time to kill outside the community centre while she waited for Laura, Ben and the rest of the group to arrive. She’d kept her eyes peeled for another glimpse of Millie and Wolf, but their paths hadn’t crossed since that first week of class. However, by the end of March the weather was starting to brighten up, so instead of skulking undercover in the hallway, Bell took the opportunity to stroll over to the pool. With the early evening sun just peeping through the meringue-filled clouds, the water looked most inviting – until she realised that she could see the pale, goosebumped flesh of the kids being taught to swim. She’d promised herself she would start going swimming after Easter, which was only a couple of weeks away, and she tried not to shiver as she watched the children splashing around. She glanced at her watch and realised she needed to get a move on if she wasn’t going to be late.
