my distance.’
Lilly watched her lean into the driver’s window then crossed the road to Miriam, who was embroiled in conversation with two women who seemed to find the whole thing hilarious.
‘Honestly, I’m not from any church,’ said Miriam.
The taller of the two tugged absently at her holdup stockings whose elastic had clearly seen much service and better days. ‘Sure you are, sweetheart, you lot are always round here. Come to save our souls.’
Miriam persisted. ‘No, really.’
‘Never mind our souls, try our bloody arses,’ roared the smaller woman, ‘cos mine’s as raw as a frigging bullet wound tonight.’
The women collapsed into laughter and careered across the road, arm in arm.
Miriam sighed. ‘Any luck?’
Lilly was about to mention Sizzle when she spotted a familiar face. She gestured towards a group of young boys working the other side of the street. When they realised they were being scrutinised all but one scarpered.
The boy pulled down his baseball cap. ‘Fuck it.’
‘Hello Jermaine,’ said Miriam.
‘I ain’t doing what you think, Miriam,’ he said.
Miriam cocked her head to the left. ‘No?’
‘I’m clipping. You know, I’m pretending to work and then taking off with the money.’
Miriam kissed her teeth. ‘I know what clipping is, and I know it’s a stupid boy who thinks he can get away with it before someone gives him a kicking or worse.’
‘Take him home in a cab, I’ll stay a bit longer,’ said Lilly.
‘You going to be all right on your own?’ asked Miriam.
‘Course. I’ve got a lead I need to follow up.’
Sizzle was clean, bright and spacious inside. Lilly had never been in a sex shop and was amused to find neat racks of magazines and ordered rows of videotapes. The assistant eyed her solitary customer without interest and went back to pricing up outfits from a box marked, ‘Fantasy Wear’.
Eventually Lilly made her way to the counter and peered in the glass cabinet displaying a forest of vibrators and dildos, the largest of which was over twenty centimetres and tartan.
The girl spoke through a wad of bubble gum, its saccharine smell filling the air. ‘You want one of those?’
Lilly shook her head. ‘I’m looking for someone.’
The girl’s jaws moved up and down like a piston. ‘This ain’t a dating agency.’
‘She’s foreign. Russian, I think,’ said Lilly. ‘Calls herself Randy Mandy.’
The girl shrugged.
‘Come on,’ Lilly smiled, ‘you must know all the regulars round here.’
The girl wasn’t disarmed. ‘I come in, do my job and go home. End of story.’
‘But you must hear what’s going on? Who’s working which patch?’
‘I make four quid an hour. It ain’t enough for chitchat.’
Lilly took out her purse and pulled out a twenty-pound note. ‘She does a chat room called Maximum Exposure.’
The girl took the money. ‘Most of the Russians work out of Fat Eric’s. I think he’s got a Mandy over there.’
Lilly smiled her thanks and turned to leave.
‘He won’t let you near her,’ said the girl, sliding the banknote into her back pocket, her gum pushed into her cheek like a hamster.
‘Why not?’ asked Lilly.
‘It’s regulars only, so the girls don’t get ideas.’
‘What sort of ideas?’
The girl went back to her uniforms and her chewing.
Outside, the air seemed heavier, and Lilly’s feet stuck to the pavement as she made her way to the small strip-club called Eric’s. The windows were blackened and an enormous man with a strangely small and shaven head sat on a stool in the entrance, one buttock hanging in midair. European disco music filtered through a velvet drape behind him. He was eating an equally colossal sandwich, and Lilly was transfixed by the white film of mayonnaise that covered his entire top lip in an oily moustache. A girl in hot pants and bra pushed aside the drape. She whispered something into the man’s ear and he nodded without taking his mouth from
Lilly watched her lean into the driver’s window then crossed the road to Miriam, who was embroiled in conversation with two women who seemed to find the whole thing hilarious.
‘Honestly, I’m not from any church,’ said Miriam.
The taller of the two tugged absently at her holdup stockings whose elastic had clearly seen much service and better days. ‘Sure you are, sweetheart, you lot are always round here. Come to save our souls.’
Miriam persisted. ‘No, really.’
‘Never mind our souls, try our bloody arses,’ roared the smaller woman, ‘cos mine’s as raw as a frigging bullet wound tonight.’
The women collapsed into laughter and careered across the road, arm in arm.
Miriam sighed. ‘Any luck?’
Lilly was about to mention Sizzle when she spotted a familiar face. She gestured towards a group of young boys working the other side of the street. When they realised they were being scrutinised all but one scarpered.
The boy pulled down his baseball cap. ‘Fuck it.’
‘Hello Jermaine,’ said Miriam.
‘I ain’t doing what you think, Miriam,’ he said.
Miriam cocked her head to the left. ‘No?’
‘I’m clipping. You know, I’m pretending to work and then taking off with the money.’
Miriam kissed her teeth. ‘I know what clipping is, and I know it’s a stupid boy who thinks he can get away with it before someone gives him a kicking or worse.’
‘Take him home in a cab, I’ll stay a bit longer,’ said Lilly.
‘You going to be all right on your own?’ asked Miriam.
‘Course. I’ve got a lead I need to follow up.’
Sizzle was clean, bright and spacious inside. Lilly had never been in a sex shop and was amused to find neat racks of magazines and ordered rows of videotapes. The assistant eyed her solitary customer without interest and went back to pricing up outfits from a box marked, ‘Fantasy Wear’.
Eventually Lilly made her way to the counter and peered in the glass cabinet displaying a forest of vibrators and dildos, the largest of which was over twenty centimetres and tartan.
The girl spoke through a wad of bubble gum, its saccharine smell filling the air. ‘You want one of those?’
Lilly shook her head. ‘I’m looking for someone.’
The girl’s jaws moved up and down like a piston. ‘This ain’t a dating agency.’
‘She’s foreign. Russian, I think,’ said Lilly. ‘Calls herself Randy Mandy.’
The girl shrugged.
‘Come on,’ Lilly smiled, ‘you must know all the regulars round here.’
The girl wasn’t disarmed. ‘I come in, do my job and go home. End of story.’
‘But you must hear what’s going on? Who’s working which patch?’
‘I make four quid an hour. It ain’t enough for chitchat.’
Lilly took out her purse and pulled out a twenty-pound note. ‘She does a chat room called Maximum Exposure.’
The girl took the money. ‘Most of the Russians work out of Fat Eric’s. I think he’s got a Mandy over there.’
Lilly smiled her thanks and turned to leave.
‘He won’t let you near her,’ said the girl, sliding the banknote into her back pocket, her gum pushed into her cheek like a hamster.
‘Why not?’ asked Lilly.
‘It’s regulars only, so the girls don’t get ideas.’
‘What sort of ideas?’
The girl went back to her uniforms and her chewing.
Outside, the air seemed heavier, and Lilly’s feet stuck to the pavement as she made her way to the small strip-club called Eric’s. The windows were blackened and an enormous man with a strangely small and shaven head sat on a stool in the entrance, one buttock hanging in midair. European disco music filtered through a velvet drape behind him. He was eating an equally colossal sandwich, and Lilly was transfixed by the white film of mayonnaise that covered his entire top lip in an oily moustache. A girl in hot pants and bra pushed aside the drape. She whispered something into the man’s ear and he nodded without taking his mouth from
Similar Books
