Sarah shifts impatiently.
‘Ahem ... How much did we say again?’ the man asks, his voice wobbling. She can sense his panic.
‘Sixty!’ her voice remains flat and emphatic leaving no room for discussion. The man splits open his wallet and fingers through the folds, his hand shaking slightly. Nothing has changed since his last search. He clears his throat, his Adams Apple bobs like a bungee.
‘Look I've got forty dollars and some coins, maybe another two dollars…’ he trails off leaving it hanging, waiting for a reprieve.
‘We agreed on sixty!’ she says resolute; an unpleasant musky odour exudes from his every paw.
‘Look … I'm sorry; I really thought I had sixty.’
‘Well I can’t take it back can I?’ She states the obvious.
‘All right, all right’, the man’s voice catches in his throat, ‘I’ll pop round the corner and find an ATM … and I’ll chuck in an extra five.’
‘OK, give me what you have, and make it ten.’ she grabs the crumpled notes and coins out of his clammy hands.
‘Now fuck off. Why do you guys always think you can abuse us?’
‘Yeah yeah sure, sorry, I’ll be right back.’
Sarah swings her legs out of the car into the gutter and slams the car door. What a fucking tosser, do they think we do this because we like them? The car shoots away from the curb in a howl of rubber. She knows she'll never see him again. He’ll go straight home to his delinquent kids and bored wife - who he cheats on every Thursday night on Hereford St. and complain about the hard day he's had at work. What a Prick!
Sarah needs to pee urgently, her bladder’s killing her. At thirty one weeks and counting, she feels like a fat Rhino in a red mini skirt. In a few weeks time she’ll have to give it all away. She adjusts her bra cup, pulls a clump of dress out of her g-string and waddles behind the building for a pee and a cleanup. Five minutes later she’s back at her stand on Hereford St smelling like roses. She smiles as old Eldora shuffles over. ‘How’s tricks?’ she says like it’s the funniest one-liner ever, except she says it every time. Eldora may be only fifty or so but she could pass for seventy. The street has not been kind to her. She grins inanely, showing off a set of dirty brown teeth with gaps.
‘Slow day today, lots of drive-bys.’ Eldora sits down alongside Sarah on the low brick fence that fronts the street; she leans towards Sarah who struggles not to gag from the bad breath.
‘You know dear, I think I saw Danny again today in one of those expensive black cars, he looked ever so handsome … he had that same cheeky grin, I don't think he saw me. Not that I'd want him to know I was doing this for a few bob.’
She pats her eyes with a dirty old lace handkerchief. Danny her son had gone missing five or six years earlier and his body was never found. There was some talk that he was involved in a drug deal that went bad, his car was found by a beach, but his surfboard and personal items were still in the car. Maybe he just went out for a swim and kept on going. Sarah is never sure how to respond.
Eldora is seeing Danny more often these days. She just smiles a sad wee smile and gently pats Eldora on the back. Eldora fiddles with the lid of her whiskey bottle and guzzles long and noisily and then mops up her chin with her sleeve.
‘Ahhhhhmmm, that’s better, there’s nothing that Jack Daniel can't fix.' She tucks the bottle of no label floor cleaner whisky back in her hold-all.
'And what about you deary?’
Sarah smiles but feels close to tears, it must be the hormones. ‘Not too good.’ And there it is, her eyes well up and she starts blubbering. She hates self pity. ‘With the baby coming and all, I’m not sure how we’ll survive, I’m still paying off dads van, and Katarina’s school fees are due shortly…’ she dabs both cheeks with a tissue ‘at least she won’t ever have to do this like me …' and then she really starts shaking.
Eldora leans over and raps Sarah in a huge warm bear hug that reeks of stale armpit, halitosis, cheep whiskey and semen. ‘What a pair eh, misery loves company, maybe you should take the day off deary.’
Sarah dries her eyes on her sleeve and sighs. ‘I can’t, we need the money for Dad’s mobility car. You know the one I bought for them after mum said dad was going to kill himself. The next payments are due. You know he can push the wheelchair right into the side of that van all by himself now; it’s all done with hydraulics and stuff. Mum still has to drive him off-course, but dad’s got that old smile back, like he's getting some, not that mums keen any more, not after the menopause. I'm paying it off week by week.’
Eldora looks up and down the road, nothing, another quiet day. ‘I tell you what Deary, just to keep your mind off all this, how about the next John that comes along is all yours, I won’t compete.’ She winks conspiratorially. Sarah never thought of Eldora as competition, in fact if anything the reverse but she says thanks anyway. They ease their spreading middle aged arse’s back onto the low brick fence and sit back to watch the world to go by. It's a quiet time of day, most punters are still be travelling home to play with their snotty kids, to kiss their bored wives and to eat their stodgy artery clogging evening meals. Sarah reckons most customers only head out under the cover of darkness like nocturnal hunters or vampires. Right now they were experiencing what she thought of as the tourist trade. The curious who cruised by just to gawk and point, to satisfy their curiosity and to make themselves feel superior, hardly worth getting off the fence for and if you did they looked away quickly like they’d been caught watching porn. The younger ones just giggled or shouted obscenities.
A large black car cruises by slowly, you never got over that feeling of being in a goldfish bowl, the driver a hard faced white guy scrutinizes them closely like a farmer at a stock sale, judges, finds them wanting and moves steadily on up the hill. It was different when she was younger and not knocked up.
‘You know dear' Eldora reflects, 'I reckon it just gets harder and harder out here every year.' Or maybe you’re just past it! 'Some days I can stand out here all day in my fishnets and leather skirt and never pull anything. It’s hard to live on welfare. Other days it’s just kinky people and freaks and then all you get is a biff. I'm not really sure why I bother any-more. You know I have this nightmare that one day they'll find my broken body hidden in the rubbish tip.'
Jesus, Sarah shudders. Get me get out of this before I get too old.
Eldora settles back into a trance. Every now and then a car slides by and Eldora launches into her routine. First the big wave and the toothless smile like she's doing pantomime, everything is exaggerated, then she whips open her coat displaying her ample body and doing the Marilyn Munro come-hither look complete with the frozen transvestite kiss. Then as the car accelerates away up the hill she gives them a finger in the rear-vision mirror before settling back on the fence like nothing’s happened. ‘You know dear it’s the waiting I hate most … and the cold nights.’
Sarah’s phone vibrates. ‘Hi Kat, did you get the meal I left out?’
‘Grrrrrrzzz Hisssssss’, Kat’s voice is muffled, indistinct, bloody Smartphone’s when did they stop working like phones, you can cook your breakfast on them but you can’t hold a proper conversation.
‘Turn off your speaker honey, I can’t hear you.’
‘Hi mummy’ Kat's voice always makes her feel happy, ‘can I stay at Steff’s tonight?’
‘Honey, that’s the third time this week, what about your study.’ Sarah hears muffled voices and a burst of laughter in the background.
‘Sorryree Mummy ... what was that?’
‘What about your study?’ in the background Sarah hears Kat’s voice, barely audible, like the phone is being smothered ‘... it’s my mum’ and then more laughter and a male voice ‘… to join us’ and then Kat’s voice raises in disgust ‘No way!’
Kat is back on the line. ‘Sorry Mumsey, bad line, can I stay at Steff’s, please please … I promise I’ll work hard all week and next week.’
‘Kat honey, I work late every night cleaning just so you can go to a private school and get a better life than me.’
‘I know, I know mumsey’ like she’s heard it a thousand times before.
‘Ok, but no going out for a few nights.’
‘Thanks mummy, you won’t regret it, byyeee’
‘Wait, who’s that you’re talking too …’ but its too late, all she hears is the ‘burrrrr’ of a closed line.
A car drives past the Transvestites who own the bottom of the hill and moves slowly up. Eldora launches into her routine. The guy’s clean cut not your usual low life, nice car, no obvious cash flow problems. He pulls up to the curb and grins.
‘Hey ladies, what’s a couple of good looking Sheila’s like you doing out on a night like this?’ he has a smarmy, cocky smile.
‘We've been waiting here for you sweetheart.’ Eldora shows off her teeth.
‘Woo ... ‘, he pulls back, ‘Your more woman than I can handle.’ Eldora doesn't look too perturbed, 'but your friend looks nice.’ He grins, Sarah usually gets a feeling about people it becomes instinctive in this business where every car ride could be your last. This guy seems ok, sleazy, but safe.
Sarah sashay's slowly over to the car, carefully hiding her bump. She makes sure he’s looking and then leans forward into the open window, giving him the full look at her pregnant cleavage.
‘Why aren’t you the smooth talker?’ she says with a big exaggerated smile like she’s on stage ‘is there something special I can do for you. Do you think maybe I should sit in your big car while we talk about it?’ She rubs her hand along the window-ledge slowly, suggestively, ‘what do you think?’ Then without an invitation she opens the door and slides onto the passenger seat, her skit rides up but she ignores it. She sits for a second enjoying the power, throwing the smile, she looks up at him through long thick eyelashes before making a play of slowly pushing her skirt down like she’s overcome with modesty.
‘Well I didn't see this happening.’ He seems a little flustered, the brash is gone. ‘Why don’t you let yourself into my car?’ he tries for irony.
‘I won’t muck around, you know what I do.’ Sometimes the nervous and the timid need someone to take charge, to help them get what they want. ‘Let’s talk about what I can do for you.’ she leans over and casually brushes some invisible lint off his shoulder and then leaves her hand close enough for him to feel the heat.
‘Woo, you don’t muck around do you.’
‘Does that intimidate you?’ she talks through her eyelashes.
‘No … well maybe yes, just a little. You’re a hooker, aren't you?’
‘Who were you expecting, Kate Middleton. Why don’t we take a little ride in this big car of yours and see what happens next.’ The man is perspiring, way out of his comfort zone.
‘Look, maybe I gave you the wrong impression; I was just hanging out, having some fun. Do I look like I need to pay for sex?’
‘Look sweetheart, you’re the one who came looking for a hooker. I can make it easy for you, all you shy boys are the same. What do you want front door, back door or maybe an all day sucker?’ she says emphasizing the word.
‘Look … perhaps another time. I can’t do this right now.’ The man’s voice is getting higher; a tick on his face is beating out a tango.
‘What! Are you some kind of closet homo’ Sarah feels her anger rising, why are all men so pathetic and snivelling.
‘Look I want you to get out of my car now!’ he shouts wounded.
'Ok Homo.’ Sarah swings her feet out of the car and slams the door.
‘Crazy bitch!’ the driver yells as he accelerates away. She sits back down on the fence.
Sarah feels no remorse, not sure where the anger comes from?
‘Are you OK dear, you seem a little upset?’ They sit for a time without talking.
‘You don’t think maybe your becoming a little too aggressive do you dear…just an observation. I find the punters like to be in control’
Sarah has no time for Eldora just then. Was it time to pack up and go home, she felt bone tired, not in the mood. It’s the Jekyll and Hyde responses she can’t understand, there’s the aggressive and capable Sarah and then the vulnerable and victim Sarah.
Sarah hunches against the evening chill; sex sells best in a short skirt and flimsy top. She looks up the hill to where the young crew, hang out. The girls get younger, taller and blonder every year and seem oblivious to the cold in their alcohol blankets.
She wants to scream 'Get out now while you still can!'
But then the young never listen, she never did. They’d think of her as the crazy old hooker down the road. One girl in particular catches her eye, it’s hard to make out the details as she’s wearing a pink tinsel wig with a heavy fringe, she reminds her of Tiffany, but at that age they all do. She has all the confidence that comes from being seventeen and being half pissed; a big smile, dangerously long legs and a really short skirt, a look straight out of a school boy’s porn collection. But she is just one of a group of girls dressed up, drinking and giggling like was Mardi Grass and the men were hanging round like mosquitoes at a barbecue.
‘They seem to be doing really well up there tonight dear but they'll muck it up won’t they. Youth is wasted on the young.' Eldora confides like she’s dispensing a rare Perl of wisdom.
'... Byyee' she hangs up oblivious to the person still talking on the other end of the line. 'Well that’s sorted', she looks at Steve with a big winsome smile. She loves to please him.
'I got the usual, "You don't appreciate anything I do for you" speech, but she's agreed to let me stay out tonight.'
'What speech is that?'
God he was beautiful in a tattooed Harry Styles kind-of way. 'Oh, you know the - I work every hour of the day to send you off to a private school, to get you a good education, to meet the right kind of people. All so you won’t end up cleaning like me for a living - speech.'
Steve listens with that big cheesy grin on his beautiful tanned face with his stylishly curly hair and dazzlingly blue eyes; she just wants to gobble him up.
'Well babe, she's right, I'm here the right people.' He opens his arms like he stating the obvious.
He doesn't need to know that mum hates his guts and thinks he's too old for her, thinks he dresses like a pimp. 'Your mothers hot. I bet she knows what to do with a man.' He grins.
'Oh that’s so gross.' She moans, but she doesn't really mind, he's always joking around like that. She just wishes that her family was richer so she could buy make-up and clothes like all her private school mates or be given a car by her dad, but that was never going to happen because dad fucked off when she was five years old!
She comes back to the present. 'You were joking about this hooker thing, weren't you? I mean they're all dirty old men who never wash and can't get a chick.’
Steve suddenly looks serious for a change. 'You know I love you Tiff and I hate even suggesting it, but where else are you going to get the money you need.’
Yuck, it was just too horrible to contemplate. ‘Yuck they’ll all be fat losers with hairy white bodies and fat wrinkly dicks. I can't do it!’
‘It'll just be a quick blow job or a fondle you can call the tune. With your looks it'll all be over in seconds.' He smiles;
She finds herself grinning but is not yet convinced.
He hands her another drink. 'Think of the money, your mum can't get it cleaning. Lots of chicks put themselves through Uni this way.'
But it wasn't really the sex part, she'd been doing that since she was fourteen, no she didn't understand why Steve was pushing this, wasn't he supposed to be her boyfriend.
He slips her a small blue pill, ‘Here try this Hun, it will make you feel good’
Soon everything begins to float. She could really do with the money.
'Come on, I know some girls up on Hereford St. You don't need to do anything you don't want to; I’ll be there all the time looking out for you.'
They drive to Hereford St. He seems to know all the girls, there’s much back slapping and hugging and in jokes. It all seems a little odd but Tiffany just stands around with a big goofy grin like she’s watching a movie, not really processing anything. Steve introduces her to a girl called Rosie, a big motherly type.
'Rosie will look after you, won’t you Rosie?', and Rosie smiles reassuringly. He gives Tiffany a big hug and wanders off saying he needs to go or he’ll scare off the punters.
The drinks continue it seems to get everyone in the mood. The cars come and go and the girls take turns chatting to the drivers. Eventually Rosie points to the next car.
'This one's yours.' like it’s been specially selected.
She steps up wearing her party wig because it makes her feels like she’s playing a part, like its not personal. Steve had suggested that. She feels nerves but at the same time absolute contempt for the guy she is about to meet. He sits behind shaded windows in a black Mercedes, she walks up to the open passenger window and leans in as she's seen the others do. The driver sees a voluptuous pretty Teenager. She sees a thirty something guy who's almost good looking and strangely not old or fat.
He says ‘Nice hair’ and she says ‘Nice car’ and the ice is broken.
She finds herself throwing shit at him and he throws it back with a grin. They hit it off and she’s really surprised. This is not so bad.
'How about a ride round the corner?' he says, and suddenly she’s a scared teenager again.
'No, I can't'. He seems really understanding.
‘Is this your first time kid?’ he says
‘Maybe…’
'I understand completely.’
He smiles and manages to look normal, not like a pervert or one of her mother’s male friends.
‘Jump in the car, I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want. We can just chat if you like.'
He looks cool and the car is nice, after a moment’s hesitation she hops in.
'Look, all I’ll do is a hand job and maybe a fondle' and the guy says
'OK, you’re running the show.'
So they drive around the corner and find a little park the driver seems to know well. As they leave she notices Steve talking to one of the other girls, the prick’s not even watching. At the park it feels almost like a first date with sweaty hands in the back row of the movie theatre. But she bumbles her way through the performance and the guy seems really appreciative and excited.
'Are you sure you don’t want to do more' he asks.
'No I can’t '.
He looks at her and it seems like he really cares, enough at least to give her a little advice.
'Look, there are lots of slime balls out there, guys who will take advantage of a girl like you, be careful and don’t get into the wrong car.' He gives her 150 dollars and a 50 dollar tip for being special and drops her off back at Hereford St.
When she hops out she feels empowered. Is that it? Wow easy money.
Steve wanders over and puts an arm round her shoulder 'Well done babe, you’re a natural.' He seems really pleased and she forgives him for not watching after her. 'How did it go?' But before she can answer he asks ‘How much did you get?’
She waves the $200 like it’s a prize, 'easy money!' she says, happy. He takes the cash and hands her back $100.
'Well done kid, I reckon you could make a thousand tonight.' He tucks the money away in his pocket and hands her another pill before wandering off.
Tiffany sits down in the gutter and drops her head into her knees; she feels the small blue pill in her hand and feels totally confused and betrayed.
Rosie wanders over and raps an arm round her shoulder like a big sister. ‘Hey are you all right kid? The first time can be a bit scary.' She pats her arm reassuringly. 'Earnest John is a genuinely nice guy, all the girls make a play for him and he’s got loads of money too.'
Rosie stops cuddling her knee.
‘Who’s Earnest John?'
'The guy in the Mercedes, that’s not his real name of course; just what the girls call him because he seems to care. Did he give you the little speech, the one about always getting in the right car?'
Fuck.
Rosie laughs, 'I thought so; he makes it seem real personal. Steve always uses him to start off the new girls.'
Oh shit.
Tiffany looks up from the gutter feeling totally confused and betrayed, directly into the shocked face of granny with her trademark pink hair and granddad as bald as a boiled egg look dawn at her from the side window of the van.
Sarah’s back is killing her and she needs to pee urgently. In five minutes if nothing happens she is going home.
At the top of the street she notices a van turn slowly into Hereford St. it pulls over by the crew at the top. It’s a van she knows well, one she’s paying off weekly. She can see her mother’s premed hair silhouetted above the steering wheel and her father in his wheel chair illuminated by the back light. Silly old bastard! Why don't men ever grow up?
Just then the night is split by the most heart wrenching scream of anguish and betrayal and embarrassment.
It’s a voice she knows well.
