The day was fine but the wind was frolicking with white woolly-lamb clouds so she teamed an aquamarine summer dress with a long cream cardigan that fell right the way to the dress’s hem, like something out of the sixties. She was no fashion guru but you couldn’t go wrong with retro. Martyn was quiet. He hadn’t shaved. His hair swung spikily around his cheekbones as it usually did and, thinking back to his image rumbling down The Butts on the side of that bus, Honor concluded that Martyn’s style of modelling relied a lot on people liking him exactly as he happened, by good luck, to be. ‘So, tell me about the shoot,’ she tried, when they’d negotiated the village traffic and were on their way, uphill, out of Rottingdean. ‘What’s it all about?’ ‘The client is DownJo Jeans and it’s for an ad – magazine, website and the lead page of their section in catalogues,’ he said economically, eyes on the road.
