“Well,” Ester said, at the question of her modelling work, with a conspiratorial smirk – only the girls here would not be offended by the subject of her photographs, unlike the rest of polite society. “When a gentleman can’t get down to The Painted Lady, he must have something to tide him over, you see.”

But – judging by this Hazel’s general demeanour, Ester was hard-pressed to imagine she was much interested in gentleman. Or, like Ester, she was an equal opportunity lover. Either way, she had picked her company well. “Oh,” she answered, returning Zel’s look under her eyelashes, and letting her fingers drift a little further along the sofa, until she was idly brushing over the younger woman’s hand, “I’d say I’m open to anything... but I would like to get to know you better.” This was sincere as much as it was also a line – a little warm up would serve her well for her next shots, but Hazel was charming and entirely new to her, and Ester was a sucker for novelty.

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