merely practical, it was wise and essential. But seeing Sandy Cunningham at Black Spires shook the frail house of cards I had erected in my subconscious. There was a part of me that took pleasure in being naked in that room among the plaster nymphs, ready even for what might transpire. But on another level I was a schoolgirl still, an inexperienced teenager who belonged back along the coast at the convent I had left a short time ago, a silly girl playing at being a grown-up in a world where I didn’t belong, even if my toned, mature body clearly revealed quite a different story.
Do I sound confused?
I was. I had never been so confused in my life. It seemed as if I had been offered an impossible choice at Rebels Casino: offer up
anything
in exchange for knowledge of the system, a multi-entry visa to the world of independence and freedom. Now my choice was to play my namesake, Mary Magdalene, the harlot, the sinner, or get turned in to the cops. The choice was no choice at all. Was that life in the real world? Is all choice a question of compromise?
I had been holding at the same time two finely calibrated and opposing opinions. On one side I believed that the activities at Black Spires were just fun, daring, a secret and unique experience. But across the scale, I regarded it all as shameful and humiliating, an amusement perfectly normal for some, I’m sure, but one hardly pursued by girls like me. There was that phrase again. What kind of girl am I? What kind of a girl was I to become? Parents, school, life. Nothing prepares you for all these opposing choices.
Standing there urbanely in his dinner suit in that room of strangers, Sandy had shifted the finely weighted balance. My confidence had gone and a million doubts and fears held me in their terrible grip. The man I now knew as Sergio left and made his way across the room to Lee-Sun, who was pouring flutes of champagne.
The girl whom I had seen earlier showing off the stud in her vagina was being hoisted up on a wire connected to the two rings at the back of her belt. She spread her arms like the wings of a bird and I watched as she swung like a pendulum to and fro, an older man with snowy white hair pushing her gently as if playing with his grandchild in the park.
The two girls on the table had come to the end of their double act, and another girl I hadn’t seen before, a tall, striking black girl with hennaed hair and silver bracelets around her ankles, strode barefoot through the crowd like a Maasai across the Serengeti, the silver bracelets tinkling like tiny bells as she went.
Everything that had started to seem normal to me suddenly felt weird, as if two worlds had collided, and, even if I bridged those two worlds, I couldn’t understand how Sandy Cunningham belonged in them both as well.
Sergio had collected a tray with three glasses of champagne and paused to watch the activity around the girl suspended from the ceiling. The swinging had stopped. Another man had appeared with a small metal box from which he took a pinch of white powder that he sprinkled over the pink inner walls of the girl’s vagina. The older man with snowy hair sniffed and licked and sucked off the powder before setting the pendulum back in motion, the girl flying back and forth like a mechanical bird.
I looked back at Sandy.
‘What are you doing here?’ I said.
His leathery features opened in a broad grin. ‘I could ask you the same question,’ he replied.
I shook my head. I’m not sure why, but I hadn’t been quite so discomfited being naked among strangers, but with Sandy it was different. I felt a blush move over my neck and cheeks.
‘But how do you know Simon?’ I muttered
‘Simon’s an old mate of mine.’
‘But …’
He smiled again and I noticed how white his teeth were. ‘I’m not sure if I should let you in on the secret,’ he said.
He was teasing me. He knew what I was thinking, and he knew I knew. I had been absolutely certain there was no link
Do I sound confused?
I was. I had never been so confused in my life. It seemed as if I had been offered an impossible choice at Rebels Casino: offer up
anything
in exchange for knowledge of the system, a multi-entry visa to the world of independence and freedom. Now my choice was to play my namesake, Mary Magdalene, the harlot, the sinner, or get turned in to the cops. The choice was no choice at all. Was that life in the real world? Is all choice a question of compromise?
I had been holding at the same time two finely calibrated and opposing opinions. On one side I believed that the activities at Black Spires were just fun, daring, a secret and unique experience. But across the scale, I regarded it all as shameful and humiliating, an amusement perfectly normal for some, I’m sure, but one hardly pursued by girls like me. There was that phrase again. What kind of girl am I? What kind of a girl was I to become? Parents, school, life. Nothing prepares you for all these opposing choices.
Standing there urbanely in his dinner suit in that room of strangers, Sandy had shifted the finely weighted balance. My confidence had gone and a million doubts and fears held me in their terrible grip. The man I now knew as Sergio left and made his way across the room to Lee-Sun, who was pouring flutes of champagne.
The girl whom I had seen earlier showing off the stud in her vagina was being hoisted up on a wire connected to the two rings at the back of her belt. She spread her arms like the wings of a bird and I watched as she swung like a pendulum to and fro, an older man with snowy white hair pushing her gently as if playing with his grandchild in the park.
The two girls on the table had come to the end of their double act, and another girl I hadn’t seen before, a tall, striking black girl with hennaed hair and silver bracelets around her ankles, strode barefoot through the crowd like a Maasai across the Serengeti, the silver bracelets tinkling like tiny bells as she went.
Everything that had started to seem normal to me suddenly felt weird, as if two worlds had collided, and, even if I bridged those two worlds, I couldn’t understand how Sandy Cunningham belonged in them both as well.
Sergio had collected a tray with three glasses of champagne and paused to watch the activity around the girl suspended from the ceiling. The swinging had stopped. Another man had appeared with a small metal box from which he took a pinch of white powder that he sprinkled over the pink inner walls of the girl’s vagina. The older man with snowy hair sniffed and licked and sucked off the powder before setting the pendulum back in motion, the girl flying back and forth like a mechanical bird.
I looked back at Sandy.
‘What are you doing here?’ I said.
His leathery features opened in a broad grin. ‘I could ask you the same question,’ he replied.
I shook my head. I’m not sure why, but I hadn’t been quite so discomfited being naked among strangers, but with Sandy it was different. I felt a blush move over my neck and cheeks.
‘But how do you know Simon?’ I muttered
‘Simon’s an old mate of mine.’
‘But …’
He smiled again and I noticed how white his teeth were. ‘I’m not sure if I should let you in on the secret,’ he said.
He was teasing me. He knew what I was thinking, and he knew I knew. I had been absolutely certain there was no link
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