9 months earlier
The hotel was morbidly quiet, as though they were the only guests here. She waited for him to stop thinking they were going to have sex, to let his brain clear. Yet, he was going to the mini bar again, going to the bathroom for a cup, filling it with orange juice, adding vodka, stirring it by swishing it round, a drop spilling on the carpet.
She was sitting very still, her dress hitched high. She had removed her heels, toenails sparkling—mulberry—setting off her tan, even in December.
“Would you like some?” he said, handing her the cup.
She pretended to drink it. He sat down beside her, the bed dipping, daring to touch her bare leg. Moving away, she reached for her bag.
“Sorry, I need to turn my phone off,” she said, remaining in the chair by the window, where he could see her fully, stay hungry. Yet, enough distance between them for him to actually hear her, listen.
“So…” he said. “What awful secret do you need to tell me? What could possibly put me off you?”
She’d already had a little cry; just a flurry. More than that and she would be deemed hysterical, needy. This was delicate, a dance. “I don’t want to burden you with my problems. We’ve only just met.”
“So? If someone was about to jump off a building, I wouldn’t ignore them because I didn’t know them.”
She nodded. “True.”
Although he might, from what she knew of him.
“What is it then?” he prompted.
He was very awake, even though it was past midnight. Outside, the town would be frosty, the sludge forming icy crystals as the temperature fell. Yet, in here, they were sealed in an airless time capsule that the seasons didn’t affect.
“I’m not who I said I was. I mean, I’m Ellis, obviously. But this isn’t me.” She gazed down at herself. “Picking up guys, wearing this dress…” She tugged carelessly at the velvet material. “It’s because I…” She allowed her mouth to quiver, the sort of pathetic gesture that actresses did years ago, violins playing. But he would accept it without question: that she was weak.
“Because you what?” he asked, easing toward her, completely captivated. She’d never seen anyone hypnotized before, but thought it would look something like this.
She ran her finger along the pattern of the chair, a wild floral pattern with tendrils, moths. “I…I got you here just to use you.”
He stared at her, holding the plastic cup so tightly it buckled. “Use me? How?”
“It was a setup,” she said, unable to meet his eye. “I was looking for someone who could help me.”
“Help you do what?” He stood up, pacing the floor as though suddenly sober and wondering what the hell he was doing here. “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”
“I wasn’t going to say anything.” She fiddled anxiously with her hands. “But then you had to go and say that thing about being fully honest with each other.” She placed her hands against her heart. “I mean, I used to be a straight-up person. That’s what drew me to you, because I could tell you’re the same.”
He liked that, puffed his chest a little. She was skilled at masking sarcasm.
“I want to be honest with you. I don’t want you to think I’m some kind of hooker, what with us meeting in that sleazy singles’ bar…”
He frowned at her. “Sleazy? It’s perfectly respectable! I’ve been going there for years and haven’t met any hookers!”
“That you know of. But if you’re out late at night in a harbor town, hanging around singles’ bars, you’re probably going to meet one sooner or later.”
“Well, not me. I’m a married man!” He gazed around the room, looking for his self-respect and his wallet. The first thing he would want to do was check it, because whores were thieves. That’s what his face was saying. “Anyway, if you thought it was so sleazy, what were you doing in there? And what do you mean about a setup? Why come on to me, if you’re not interested?”
When she didn’t answer any of the questions, he tutted, grabbing his jacket. He was heading out, his long legs striding toward the door. So she emitted a sob, a manufactured hiccup. “I didn’t say I wasn’t interested.”
He paused, turned. “Look, what’s going on, hey?” He was clutching his jacket, tension conquering his expression. The look of a man whose guarantee of sex had fallen through.
She shook her head, another tear escaping.
“Are you in some kind of trouble?”
She didn’t reply, bit her lip. He waited several beats, then tossed his jacket onto the bed, picking up the vodka, knocking it back. “If you don’t tell me what’s going on in the next ten seconds, I’m going to walk out of here and you’ll never see me again.”
She slipped off the chair, gliding noiselessly through to the bathroom where she plucked up a tissue, returning with it to her seat, dabbing her face. He was watching her the whole time. She added a flash of knickers—Christmas red—before settling again, folding her arms so her breasts were ample, impossible to ignore. “I’m so sorry. But I can’t sleep with you,” she said.
“What?” He wanted her so badly his confusion was palpable. Desire, lust, sinner, whore. It was all there. “Why not?”
“Because it would be wrong.”
“How so?” His face tightened. “Wait, you’re not—?”
“Underage? No.”
“Well, that’s a relief.”
She played with the chain on her clutch, slipping her fingers into the loops. “I know that’s the only reason you’re here. Men never want to get to know me. All they see when they look at me is the promise of a mind-blowing screw.”
He could put his tongue away. And his hard-on. This talk was actually turning him on.
“But then when I saw you, I thought you were different.” She shivered, despite the heat in the room. “But I can see now that I had you wrong because you’re just the same as all the rest. And I’m very sorry about that.”
He opened his mouth, closed it, frowning.
She saw her chance to continue. “Some men will never get past the way I look.”
He gazed at her legs, her body, so obviously perfect even in loose velvet. He looked hungry and thirsty, as though using all his energy not to pull up her dress, thrust himself into her. He ran his hands through his hair, over his mouth, thinking.
She waited.
“So are you saying nothing’s happening tonight, but could in the future?” he said, his expression brightening.
“Yes. But I shouldn’t have come here with you. I’m sorry…”
She played a risky move then. She picked up her bag, made as though she was about to put on her shoes and leave.
“I think I could work with that,” he said. She reached for her coat, but he blocked her from collecting it, hand on her arm. “We don’t have to rush anything.”
“Please, I need to go. This wasn’t fair on you. I’m so sorry, but…” He reached down, drawing her chin toward him as he stooped to kiss her, barely connecting. She shivered again, this time for real because it was a long time since she’d let someone do this. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but had to. Even she could see that.
Against her body, he was aroused again, yet his kiss didn’t become sloppy, urgent. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, breaking away. “I’d love to get to know you.”
She gazed up at him, then sat down on the bed, still holding the tissue. She stretched it between her hands, seeing how strong it was.
“I think we could have something here,” he said, joining her. “We could take it slowly, if that’s what you want.”
“Maybe?” she said coyly.
“But you need to tell me why this was a setup,” he said, squeezing her leg gently, his wedding band gleaming.
“Well…it’s to do with my home, or lack of.” She closed her eyes briefly. “I lost all my possessions—everything—in a house fire because my roommate left a joint on the sofa and I wasn’t insured. It was a dump anyway, with a coked up landlord who treated us like dirt.” Her voice broke.
He reached for her hand. “I’m sorry. That sounds bad.”
“My roommate did a runner. So then the landlord turned on me, said I owed him for the damages. Thousands of pounds. So I ran away too, right after he threatened me with a baseball bat—said he’d beat me to a pulp, let me bleed to death. He said no one cared about scum like me.”
“Where was this? Not somewhere round here, surely?” Outside in the corridor, there was a sudden noise, a door opening and closing. He gave a start as though displaced, his face colorless. He rubbed it, getting the blood going. “Can’t you report him?”
“I don’t think so. Besides, I think he might be right—I owe him money. But I don’t have any.”
“What about your family?”
“Don’t have that either. Foster kid.”
He squeezed her hand tighter, his palm sweaty. “What about your friends? Surely there’s someone who can put you up until you get on your feet?”
“I left them all behind, haven’t had a chance to meet anyone new yet.” She dropped the tissue onto the floor. “That’s what I was doing in that bar. I got desperate, was hoping to meet someone rich who might…help me out or something.”
“I see,” he murmured, pulling his hand away. Nothing severed a connection like a freeloader. “So you were fishing for a sugar daddy?”
“No. I dunno. Maybe. I thought it was worth a shot. This area’s famous for them, isn’t it? But I can see now that it was stupid… I’m stupid.”
The corners of his mouth turned down sulkily. “I hate the idea of one of those disgusting baldies groping you.”
She nodded. “Same.”
“So that’s why I’m here?” He dropped his hands onto his knees. “A meal ticket?”
“At first.” She shrugged despondently. “But then I realized I could actually see myself with you.”
He gazed into the air, mouth open, seeing himself with her too.
“But I’m going to have to go back where I came from. Someone will be able to help me scrounge a bed for a week or so.”
“I don’t think that’s an option. That guy sounds dangerous. He could do you some serious harm.” He stood up, going to the curtain, lifting the dense material as though there might be someone standing there about to blow his brains out.
Then he turned to look at her, arms folded. “I might be able to help, but I need to think about it. You’ve definitely got no family or friends?”
“Like I said: foster kid. And when you move around as much as I did, you don’t tend to pick up many friends. Not decent ones anyway.” She waited, trying not to look as though she was watching him closely.
He gazed at the ceiling, then at her. “Don’t leave,” he said. “And don’t pick up any flabby old guys.” He smiled. “Other than me.”
“I’ll try not to,” she said, giving him another flash of her underwear, as though completely unaware.
“The thing is, I don’t have cash hanging around the house—not the sort you would need to get started. It’s not exactly cheap around here.”
“Which is why I’m going to have to leave.”
“No. Don’t do that,” he said, sounding desperate, then checking himself, standing tall. “It’s just that it feels as though you’ve come into my life for a reason. I think we should at least explore that for a while, see where it leads?”
“I can explore.” She smiled flirtatiously.
“How about we get a few hours of sleep and think about it some more?” he suggested. “Don’t know about you, but I’m shattered.”
“Me too,” she said, feigning a yawn. She was a light sleeper, didn’t need much. She stretched out on the bed, resting her head on the pillow, hair draped around her. He kicked off his shoes, lay beside her, not touching her. She could tell he was thinking in the darkness. Out somewhere in the real world, an engine rasped, and then all was still.
* * *
When she woke, there was an envelope beside her. It was no surprise. She’d heard him moving around the room at dawn, tracking his motion through to the bathroom and out of the main door, listening to the sound of the elevator rumbling.
On his return, she acted asleep, mumbling slightly, frowning as though her worries were disturbing her dreams. He bent over her perhaps to kiss her, then changed his mind, withdrew.
His shadowy form went to the door, looked back at her and then there was a click, a sigh as the door closed and he was gone.
She didn’t move for several minutes. And then she rolled onto her hip, picked up the envelope, taking it over to the curtains, pulling them aside to let the light stream in.
I know we’ve only just met but I can’t lose you yet, not without knowing what this is.
Here’s £500 to tide you over. Meet me Friday night and I’ll see if I can rustle up some more. Here’s my number. Call me x
In the bathroom, she pinched her cheeks, smoothing her dress. Then she left the hotel, stepping out into the early morning. The pavements were shimmering with frost underneath the streetlights, the buildings standing to attention, her heeled footsteps ricocheting up and around the rooftops like applause.