Ithought was lovely and who was one of the few peopleable to really terrify Dad. Gail was great and used to getme to babysit for her when she was out working, sometimesbringing the punters back to her house while I wasthere. It didn’t seem that unusual to me; it was the sort of thing I saw happening all the time around me. I supposeon some level I knew she was doing the same things Dadmade me do with him, but I tried not to think about it toomuch.
Gail was hard as nails. She was sex mad and reallywanted Dad. Although he loved sex and would boast thathe could never resist fucking everything in sight, Gailmade him uneasy. He liked to be the one in control, theone doing the seducing or the raping. He and Gail wouldgo upstairs together at all times of the day and Terry andI would be able to hear them fighting or fucking or whateverelse they were doing through the floor. I admired herfor not just giving in to him like most people did. Sheonce smacked him over the head with a pool cue in oneof the pubs on the block. She was great. I admired peoplewho had the courage to fight back, who didn’t let someonelike Dad bully them, and I wished I could be morelike that myself.
Another of Dad’s best friends was a prostitute calledLucy. I loved Lucy; she was a real little firecracker of awoman who had something of the gypsy about her. Dadalways used to nag her like mad for being too skinny butshe never took any offence at anything he said. I don’tthink there was ever anything sexual between them; theywere just really good mates and she was another of thehandful of women who were willing to stand up to himand argue back about things.
‘Men don’t like skinny women,’ he’d tease her, but shewouldn’t let him undermine her confidence or get to herlike he got to everyone else.
She was always turning up at the house in the middleof the night covered in bruises after being beaten up byone or other of her pimps, all of whom called themselvesher boyfriends. Each time it happened Dad would takeher in and clean her up and Terry and I would find herasleep on the settee in the morning when we came downstairs.There was no doubting what she did for a livingbecause she always dressed for the part in revealing tops,tight little mini skirts and high heels. She would be outon the game every night but she never seemed to have anymoney in her purse. I guess she just drank it and gave itaway. A lot of prostitutes are like that: because the moneydoesn’t seem respectable you end up frittering it away inways you would never dream of doing if you’d earned itin a shop or a factory or any other decent profession – easycome, easy go. It always felt like ‘dirty money’ rather thansomething to be saved and looked after.
When Lucy was there she would constantly be sendingme out to the shops to buy her a new pair of tights orhairspray or a comb or something. I loved runningerrands for her because she would always tell me to getmyself some sweets while I was there, and I wantedto please her anyway. Even when I was too young to reallyunderstand what the word meant I knew she was a prostitute but I didn’t care because I loved her for who shewas. One day when I was nine I came back from theshops with some new tights she’d sent me for.
‘Let Ria try those tights on,’ Dad said and Lucy handedthem over to me without really thinking.
Like any little girl I was eager to dress up like agrown-up and pulled them on happily, wanting to lookas glamorous as Lucy always seemed to me.
‘Try Lucy’s shoes on,’ Dad said once I’d got the tightson. I did what he told me, strutting awkwardly round theroom about six inches taller than usual.
‘Try Lucy’s skirt on,’ he said.
Lucy was obviously beginning to feel uncomfortablebecause she said she didn’t want to play that game anymore and tried to distract Dad, but I thought she wasbeing a right spoilsport. Dad and I both begged her untilshe gave in and reluctantly handed over the skirt. I
Gail was hard as nails. She was sex mad and reallywanted Dad. Although he loved sex and would boast thathe could never resist fucking everything in sight, Gailmade him uneasy. He liked to be the one in control, theone doing the seducing or the raping. He and Gail wouldgo upstairs together at all times of the day and Terry andI would be able to hear them fighting or fucking or whateverelse they were doing through the floor. I admired herfor not just giving in to him like most people did. Sheonce smacked him over the head with a pool cue in oneof the pubs on the block. She was great. I admired peoplewho had the courage to fight back, who didn’t let someonelike Dad bully them, and I wished I could be morelike that myself.
Another of Dad’s best friends was a prostitute calledLucy. I loved Lucy; she was a real little firecracker of awoman who had something of the gypsy about her. Dadalways used to nag her like mad for being too skinny butshe never took any offence at anything he said. I don’tthink there was ever anything sexual between them; theywere just really good mates and she was another of thehandful of women who were willing to stand up to himand argue back about things.
‘Men don’t like skinny women,’ he’d tease her, but shewouldn’t let him undermine her confidence or get to herlike he got to everyone else.
She was always turning up at the house in the middleof the night covered in bruises after being beaten up byone or other of her pimps, all of whom called themselvesher boyfriends. Each time it happened Dad would takeher in and clean her up and Terry and I would find herasleep on the settee in the morning when we came downstairs.There was no doubting what she did for a livingbecause she always dressed for the part in revealing tops,tight little mini skirts and high heels. She would be outon the game every night but she never seemed to have anymoney in her purse. I guess she just drank it and gave itaway. A lot of prostitutes are like that: because the moneydoesn’t seem respectable you end up frittering it away inways you would never dream of doing if you’d earned itin a shop or a factory or any other decent profession – easycome, easy go. It always felt like ‘dirty money’ rather thansomething to be saved and looked after.
When Lucy was there she would constantly be sendingme out to the shops to buy her a new pair of tights orhairspray or a comb or something. I loved runningerrands for her because she would always tell me to getmyself some sweets while I was there, and I wantedto please her anyway. Even when I was too young to reallyunderstand what the word meant I knew she was a prostitute but I didn’t care because I loved her for who shewas. One day when I was nine I came back from theshops with some new tights she’d sent me for.
‘Let Ria try those tights on,’ Dad said and Lucy handedthem over to me without really thinking.
Like any little girl I was eager to dress up like agrown-up and pulled them on happily, wanting to lookas glamorous as Lucy always seemed to me.
‘Try Lucy’s shoes on,’ Dad said once I’d got the tightson. I did what he told me, strutting awkwardly round theroom about six inches taller than usual.
‘Try Lucy’s skirt on,’ he said.
Lucy was obviously beginning to feel uncomfortablebecause she said she didn’t want to play that game anymore and tried to distract Dad, but I thought she wasbeing a right spoilsport. Dad and I both begged her untilshe gave in and reluctantly handed over the skirt. I
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