Up all night: Snapping in to role play

Until now it has been a secret what my boyfriend has been developing in his photographic studio.

But today I have been invited in to help because his intern can't make it. Neanderthal has a solo exhibition coming up called Akin to Nature, so everything is getting heated in his darkroom.

I have guessed that Akin to Nature may be some pictures of me in my natural state, because we've taken plenty. I'll have to wait and see.

It has been a long-standing joke between us that he has been screwing his intern in exchange for photography lessons. I know it isn't true, but today I hope to make it so - with me as the intern.

I dress for the occasion. I put on a pair of geeky glasses, tie my hair up in a little bun and put on a studious-looking, buttoned-up dress. I decide to call myself Amy - the sweet, unassuming intern who will do whatever Neanderthal (or Mr Photographer, for today) says in exchange for his wondrous knowledge of photography.

What I didn't intend to do was any work, so I get a little annoyed when I have to travel to Waterloo to get him some toner. I return with a flourish, whisking back the black curtain.

"Hi darling," murmurs Neanderthal from under a red light, barely looking up. I expected him to be impressed by my transformation into a geeky student, but he is too engrossed to notice. Good, I think - more of a challenge.

I help him set up a projector to enlarge an image onto a huge piece of photographic paper on the wall. When I ask in a sweet voice: "Mr Photographer, what's in the paper to make it light-sensitive?" he suddenly snaps out of serious mode and catches on to my character.

"Ah, well, if you want to know that, then first you have to" He begins to list his instructions, with nothing photographic included whatsoever.

Role-play is a lot of fun. I remember my friend Harriet once telling me she could never do it because it would feel as though her boyfriend was cheating on her. I told her that is lunacy.

As I button my dress back up I ask, innocently: "Now will you give me the answer, Mr Photographer?"

"Yes, it's silver in the paper that makes it photographic."

"I couldn't care less," I say and we giggle.

He switches on the projector and I hold my breath to see what picture lights up. I deflate. It's a photo of some dying roses.

"What's the matter?" asks Neanderthal when he sees my expression.

"Oh nothing, it's beautiful." Clearly playing his muse is a role I'll have to work on.