What I needed was a man. Not just any man. He had to be tall (ish), fairly good-looking (from the back!) and slightly tanned.
A male model would have been good, but I didn’t have one of those, so my husband volunteered in chivalrous manner; that was after I twisted his arm a little. He didn’t put up too many objections though, so that was good.
Now, I had my model, the big problem is my lovely hubby is no longer in his mid 30’s, and my model man needed to be. Still I thought, we’ll probably get around it in some way, and at least it’s a back view.
We needed to put the alarm clock on
So, there we were eight in the morning on our local Spanish beach. It had to be eight o’clock because by nine o’clock hoards of holidaymakers would arrive and spread out their towels, beach umbrellas and all that paraphernalia, just where I wanted to capture a picture of my lone man gazing longingly out to sea. He was supposed to be nostalgically thinking about the woman he loved and had been forced to leave behind. (Not that my hubby was actually thinking this, you understand).
I’d asked hubby to wear a red tee shirt, and as he planned to travel on to a game of bowls immediately after this photo-shoot, he was otherwise dressed in white. Perfect, I thought, those colours would go with the font colour theme I’d chosen.
Did I mention that this was a photo-shoot for the cover of my second book? No? Oh sorry. I’ve been carried away by my paparazzi role. I felt I was the bees knees with my hubby’s super duper Canon cord slung casually around my neck, (proper David Bailey style).
Okay. Quiet please. Take! (Clapperboard needed really)
Anyway we began. ‘Look this way’, snap snap; ‘look that way’ snap snap. Let’s shoot over there by the rocks ‘shoulders back’ snap snap; ‘can you put your arms behind your back’ snap snap. Let’s try some close-ups now. ‘Can you lean nonchalantly against the empty life-guard’s chair ‘ snap snap. I’m sure you get the picture. (excuse pun)
I was quite enjoying this (not sure about hubby, but he’s very patient … sometimes). There were a few people watching by now, but nobody clapped or anything.
Bad hair day
Ahh, then it hit me. My hubby’s hair colour! Boy oh boy, it really spoiled the thirty-odd year old image I was trying to capture. What to do! I rushed to the parked car and rescued his hat … not his white flat bowling cap of course …that just wouldn’t have done at all!
Snap snap all over again, but this time wearing a sunhat. We had a much larger crowd watching now, but still nobody clapped!
Two hundred or so pictures later it was ‘Goodbye hubby, have a good game of bowls. See you later’. I started to pack up the camera bits and pieces ready for the walk home. The ‘audience’ was now streaming passed me and fighting for the best places near the sea, but I was surprised when this little old lady tapped me on the arm.
“He’s famous isn’t he?” she asked. Her shiny white suntan creamed face mesmerised me for a second.
I nodded (naughty I know).
“I thought so. I recognised him from the tele.”
I don’t know who she thought my hubby was, and thank goodness she didn’t ask me his name, for I have no idea what I would have said. Had I had my wits about me, I might have opted for Kevin Costner; because years back I thought he was quite dishy. Still I wasn’t put in that position, thank goodness.
I expect you’d like to see one of the photos … yes?
Here you are then, my David Bailey ‘bestest’ …
The book title ‘Beyond Promises’ and my name will be in white font, and I think (although I’m biased of course) that it’s all going to go together well.