‘Is this really Raven’s man?’ I whisper into her ear.
‘Yeah,’ she nods, and lifting her hand discreetly to her mouth, she continues, ‘You know, they came together at my photo shoot where the pictures for my upcoming exhibitions are coming from.’
I remember the photo shoot from months ago, and the exhibition where, among many, Amina’s photos will also be featured, will take place next week in New Bond Street.
‘Still, something’s wrong with them,’ I say quietly, while drinking up the rest of my wine.
Amina turns towards me with wonder, I can see she is expecting an explanation, but I’d be in trouble to do that. This is one of those impressions that I can’t really give a name to, yet, sometimes I have them.
‘How do you mean that?’
‘I don’t know… they look odd together,’ I shrug my shoul
