David and Jen

"You've been a real trouper today; don't think we haven't noticed. There are porn stars that would give their eye teeth for your staying power."

David blushed and looked down. "That lube was good but I'm pretty sore right now"

"You're new to this aren't you, love?" said Joanne.

"Yes," he admitted. "In fact, I'm not quite sure how I got here."

"Slippery slope, love, slippery slope," said Kelly expansively.

"There's lots of ways it can go wrong, you've gotta be really careful. See, me and her, we're a team, ain't we, Jo?"

Joanne smiled at her, and David thought they were probably a bit more than a team. Kelly was talking again.

"We're in this until we're 30 and then it's time to set up in business doing something else. Now, we're getting a grand apiece for today and you'd be a fool to put out for anything less. In fact, if I were you, I'd ask for at least three.

There's no way she could have expected you to fuck your way through half the party like that. You've gone above and beyond. Did none of the blokes take your fancy? There were one or two that were hoping you would!"

David blushed. "Not my scene."

"Oh well, to each their own. You can double your money doing that. 'Course with Aids and ever'thing you gotta be doubly careful. This lot are clean, Rosemary makes sure of it. You don't get an invite if you can't prove it."

"Actually, I'm not sure I could do this again. I'm amazed I've lasted this long but then I guess it's just mechanics."

The two women exchanged glances.

"What do you mean?" asked Joanne.

"Well, I don't feel anything for any of these people. I feel a bit like I'm in some super-real porn film, like I'm watching myself do these things."

"You didn't fancy the girls you had?" Kelly said, incredulously.

"No, it's not that, it's just I need a ... a connection."

"You need to learn how to play games," Joanne said seriously. "These people wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire."

"Christ, keep it down, Jo!" Kelly exclaimed, peering out into the garden to see if anyone could hear.

Her partner ignored her.

"To stay sane in this business you've got fake it to make it. You can't care about any of these people."

Kelly raised a speculative eyebrow. "You gotta girlfriend?"

"No, not really."

"Boy, if I had a dollar for every time someone's said that I wouldn't need to be turning tricks!" hooted Kelly. "Who is she?"

David sighed. "She's one of my regular, uh, clients. The sex is great, but we get on really well together anyway. And lately there's been something ... something else."

"Slippery slope, love, slippery slope," said Kelly, repeating herself. "Do you kiss her?"

"Yes."

"First rule of the game; you don't kiss tricks. Suck their cocks, lick their cunts, but definitely no mouth action."

"I think I've worked that out," David said, unhappily.

***

Rosemary found him a while later sitting alone in the arbour, staring out into the growing darkness. The party was winding down and half of the guests had already left. He hadn't noticed her walk up and so she watched him for a bit and saw the faint unhappiness that crossed his features. Unusually for Rosemary, she felt a qualm and stole away again. A few minutes later she returned with an envelope.

"David! Here you are; we missed you! Quite a few of the ladies wanted to compliment you."

He nodded without looking at her and she wondered what she could say to rectify the situation. Kelly and Joanne had been happy enough with their experience and their remuneration and had trotted off without a care. They would be back if she needed them again.

She went on, "Some of your partners wanted to express their gratitude in a more material fashion."

She didn't add that she'd retained half of the cash herself. She didn't need the money, but some habits die hard.

"Anyway, here's your pay for today. I am very pleased with the way things went. Did you have a good time?"

David didn't reply and Rosemary found herself, unusually, at a loss. Many men of her acquaintance, being possessed of David's equipment and stamina, would participate enthusiastically; far less require coercion.

Perhaps that was the problem; David wasn't one of those monied and amoral men with whom she kept company. To her immense surprise, part of her wished that they could be on better terms.

She put the envelope beside him on the bench and walked back to house.

***

He knocked at the door of the well-appointed town house and after a minute or two, it opened to receive him.

"Mr Piper! Please, come in!"

Outside of a cinema or on television, she was the most stunning woman he had ever seen. She was wearing a simple pale yellow dress and was barefoot. The polish on her toes matched that of her nails and the tone of her lipstick. Her warm blonde hair cascaded about her face and her eyes sparkled as she smiled her brilliant white smile. She was artlessly beautiful. What was he doing here?

He stepped into the hallway which was high ceilinged and airy with a staircase to the left that rose to a small galleried landing. The floor was paved with black and white stone, the retro style radiators painted a muted metallic bronze which complemented the vaguely Regency sage green paint below the dado rail.

An enormous mirror hung on the wall to right and as he caught sight of himself, David reflected that he was underdressed.

She closed the door and passed him to trot up the stairs, pausing once to look over her shoulder and carol, "This way!"

David hadn't been expecting to go upstairs quite so quickly but the lady was paying so ...

One of the doors off the landing was open and some second-hand sunlight spilled onto the burgundy carpet. He entered the room and stopped. He had been expecting this to be a bedroom, but it was actually a parlour, no, a morning room.

She was seated on a small sofa in front of a large bay window that looked over the garden. She patted the sofa next to her and looked at him expectantly.

He sat down warily on the edge of the seat, partly because he expected this to be a segment for Candid Camera and partly because he was afraid he might leave traces on the plush.

"Ms Cranshaw- "He began but she interrupted him.

"You must call me Jane, Mr Piper."

"If I must call you Jane, then perforce you must call me David."

Her expression changed and she tilted her head, considered him calculatingly for a moment. Then she continued,

"You were about to say?"

"... Jane," he said, awkwardly. "I don't quite understand why I'm here."

"You don't?" she said, surprised.

"Rosemary gave me to understand that you would competently perform certain duties for a fee. Is that not so?"

David was not to know that she had not asked Rosemary for that information.

"That is indeed the case but what I'm failing to grasp is why you wish to pay for something that you could very easily get for free. And from someone a great deal more imposing than myself."

"That is true, but you are apparently possessed of discretion. That's a valuable commodity."

The other face of gossip, he thought.

Her eyes were neither grey nor green but, like moss agate, capable of being both. They were wise and cool, and he was in danger of becoming mute in their regard. She glowed in the morning sunlight looking more like a film star with every passing second.

There had been a waft of perfume, delicate and sensual, as she passed him in the hall, but now it filled his senses. She was speaking and he blinked hard and forced himself to concentrate.

"But it's never for free, is it?"

He widened his eyes, inviting her to continue.

She sighed. "This is a transactional world, David. Beauty is a currency; it admits me to places that would otherwise be unattainable. I have no favourable circumstances of birth, no special gift or faculty that would enable me to rise in any other way. Think of me like a professional football player."

She glanced sideways at his quirked eyebrows. "Bear with me on this one."

"His playing career is limited so he must make the best use of it that he can to ensure that the part of his life that comes afterwards can be as comfortable as possible. Anyone able to advance me will want something in return - even if it is just another notch on their bedpost.

And these are not explicit transactions, I can't be entirely sure that they will work for my benefit. This, however, is very straightforward. I give you money, you cater to my needs. What drew me to you, David, is that you seem immune to Rosemary's manipulations."

"How so?"

"Rosemary has a way of making her conquests complicit in their own coercion. The jailed come to love the jailer."

He frowned. "I am not a machine. I can, happily or unhappily depending on which way you look at it, perform to order, but there's little lasting satisfaction in it. I must have a connection. It seems I wear my heart on my sleeve."

There was a pause and then, apropos of nothing, she said, "Perforce," to the air.

"I beg your pardon?"

Jane shook her head, the blonde locks tumbling to catch the light just so.

"Tell me about yourself, David."

He frowned. "I am a minor bureaucrat."

"That tells me nothing, but it seems a very junior role?"

"Needs must when the Devil drives."

"And your home life?"

He looked at her sideways. This was straying into territory that was strictly speaking off-limits, but their worlds did not intersect so she might wish to assure herself of his character beyond anything Rosemary had divulged. He sighed.

"What did Rosemary tell you?"

"That you have two small children and their mother left you when you had an affair."

He smiled.

"You smile! What of any of that could make you smile?"

"Because your description of events, while factually correct, doesn't begin to cover the whys and the wherefores. Every time I think of those three weeks it's like shaking a snow-globe. The flakes dance, the things inside, the certainties, are merely glimpsed half-seen. Is that what really happened? Is the causal chain just the way I remember it?"

Jane sat back. "You're a puzzle and no mistake, David."

She put her head on one side.

"We could have a trial run now, if you like?"

"Not right now, I think," he said, eyeing her perfection. "I need to smarten up."

"For me?"

The unvoiced conviction that David couldn't possibly smarten up enough to get into her league hung in the air. To her credit she looked a trifle abashed.

He shook his head. "No, for me."

She looked at him afresh. His clothes were clean, his shirt pressed, his appearance serviceable enough. But it was all ... nondescript.

"What have you done with your illicit gains?"

The question caught him off guard and he answered rather more candidly than he might have done on reflection.

"Saved it mostly. I can't splash it, or I'd get picked up like that idiot kid that was dealing drugs in the next village last summer. Buying and running a car when he was supposed to be on income support!"

Absently he wondered if Peter Morgan had had a hand in that.

"Yes, I think I remember hearing about that."

"What I earn in the day job goes on rent and bills, the rest goes for child support. I use the cash to buy food and the rest is in the proverbial shoe box. When I can be bothered, I eat rather well these days."

She laughed. "How much do you have saved?"

"A few thousand."

"You have been a busy boy!"

"Unfortunately, my activities prompted a visit from two thugs and a retired policeman."

Her eyebrows rose. "Together?"

"No, thugs first, then policeman."

"What happened?"

Jane already knew, of course, from what Phyllis had confided, but she was interested to see what David would say.

"One of my, um, clients, well, her grandfather had concerns about any potential arrangement and required me to cease and desist."

"Cease and desist," Jane said, smiling as she did so.

"Yes, why do you keep repeating things I say?"

"Because the words that come out of your mouth are at odds with the rest of you. You'll never fit in where you are now, David. You need to be able to name diseases of wheat and models of agricultural machinery, not baffle your listeners with words like causal and perforce. What are you, David?"

His eyes grew bright. "Estranged from my family."

He looked out of the window.

"Empty."

Jane was silent for a minute, looking at the young man. She didn't know quite what she had been expecting but the conversation of the last five minutes certainly wasn't it. Her parting exchange with Marjorie Bennett came back to her.

She came to a decision and reached over and patted his hand. He jumped as if he'd forgotten where he was. He stared down at where her hand lay on top of his, her sophisticated white fingers over his prosaic digits. The white mark on his fourth finger where his wedding ring had been.

"Book a day's leave for next week sometime. I'm going to take you to London!"

"London? What for?"

Whatever else he'd been expecting her to say, that wasn't it. This had gone off in a completely unexpected direction.

"Well, firstly because you look like you need a treat. Actually, you don't look like you need one, it's following you around like a neon sign. And then you need some proper clothes. And a haircut. And bring a c.v., there's someone I want you to meet."

***

Ch-ch-ch-changes

August

Prior to the interview Jane had left him the care of a gentleman's hairdresser who murmured snatches of Italian as he expertly wielded the tools of his craft.

After an hour there didn't seem to be much hair on the floor, but the shape of his face had been changed. A little oil was applied to his new look and David had to admit that he was impressed. A haircut is a haircut, right? Apparently not, when done properly.

Jane wafted in to settle the bill despite David's protests. He had no idea where she'd been or how she had known the exact moment to return.

Next stop was a small shop on a side street. There were two suited mannequins in the window but otherwise nothing to indicate the proprietors or the name of the business. Inside it was all wood and leather and tall, elegant mirrors above a thick, expensive carpet.

They were greeted by a slim middle-aged man, immaculately attired in doubtless one of his own creations. He and Jane greeted each other like old friends and David started to feel a bit like one of the store-front dummies as they inspected and discussed how he should look and what he should wear.

Jane had been canny bringing him to this outfitters. David was of average build, and they had stock made for clients that for one reason or another was never collected. David blanched slightly at the cost, but Jane assured him that it was worth it. It was hard to disagree with her, looking at himself in the mirror, he felt like a million dollars.

Rounding out the collection with a set of expensive white shirts and a couple of pairs of equally pricey leather shoes, their last stop was a jeweller.

David was still mentally reeling from the cost of the shoes and wasn't really paying attention as Jane bent over the polished glass displays. Expecting Jane to buy something fancy for herself he was surprised when instead she picked out and paid for a pair of heavy silver cufflinks.

She made a show of presenting them to him.

"A little icing on the cake," she smiled and watched with amusement as he struggled to put them in.

As they made their way to the offices where the interview was to take place, she put her arm through his, forcing him to slow down to match her pace.

"Relax, David. You have your armour; you now just need your lady's favour."

David was conscious of the looks they attracted as they made their way along the street and, catching sight of their reflection in a polished shop window, he could hardly believe his eyes. This is how he should have looked when he called on her the previous week.

Stopping outside the offices of Cross Partners, Jane kissed him on the cheek.

"Good luck."

***

After the interview, David found his way to the bar of the posh hotel where Jane had said they should meet. A fair few glances queried his reason for being in such an exclusive place, but Jane's assertion had been quite correct, he was armoured now. A fair few more eyebrows were raised when he sat down with Jane at the window.

She took an impossibly elegant sip of her cocktail and asked, "Well, how did it go?"

Christ, cocktails at lunchtime, or should that be luncheon? He'd never seen Jane actually eat anything and suspected that that might be the price of her astounding figure.

"Okay, I think. He didn't ask any of the questions I was expecting."

"This isn't the kind of interview you'll have been used to, David. Derek will be going partly on instinct, partly on those test results of yours and partly in the knowledge that if you don't measure up in the next couple of months, he can throw you out on your ear. Anyway, I'm sure you'll do wonderfully!"

She smiled the smile which must have launched a thousand ships.

David had learned that to talk to Jane you almost had to avoid looking at her lest she overwhelm you, as if she was one of the Olympians, operating on a level that mere mortals couldn't reach. He smiled helplessly, unable to resist being carried along in her wake.

"Let me get you a drink," Jane said and waved at the bar.

In short order a bucket and two flutes arrived. The waiter expertly removed the cork and poured them two glasses of champagne.

"It's a bit early to celebrate! I haven't got the job yet," David said.

"Yes, you have. Derek texted me just now."

A smile spread its way over David's face. Impulsively he stood and leaned over to kiss Jane. To his amazement she didn't avert her face and received his embrace on the lips. He sat back, stunned and she smiled at him.

"You've no idea how lovely you can be, David."

***

He banged the door knocker as loudly as he could, terrified that he would lose his nerve.

After a few seconds, Rosemary opened the door.

"Heavens, you must want to come in very urgently, David. We don't have anything scheduled, what do you want?"

"I'm not going to work for you anymore," he said firmly, staring at the floor.

"Is that your decision to make?"

"I'm shutting up shop and I'm moving away. You can do your worst; I don't think you can touch me now."

To his surprise she nodded. "It wasn't working anyhow."

"I did everything you asked," he said, firmly. "You can have no complaints."

"I have one, David: for a gigolo, you're not very professional. You apparently need to like your clients whereas a professional has no opinion one way or another."

"I'll take that as a compliment. Your friends are an unpleasant bunch."

She smiled wryly. "Indeed. But then when you swim with sharks you must become a bit fishy. You're too nice to do that."

David flushed; this was not going at all as he had expected.

"I'm not interested in your opinion."

Rosemary ignored the interjection.

"I've grown to rather like you, David. You're clever, considerate, and self-effacing. I don't know anyone else quite like you and I regret being so hard on you at the beginning."

Heavens, was that an apology?

"Come and sit down," she said, turning and walking towards an unfamiliar door.

David hesitated, unsure what this might portend. Curiosity won the day and he tramped after her across the hall.

They entered the study. David had never been in it before and was impressed at the vast array of volumes in floor to ceiling bookcases.

"That's a lot of reading material," he observed.

Rosemary looked up at the serried rows of leather spines.

"I wouldn't know. Grazia's about my limit. These are all Harold's, but I don't think he reads them. They're mainly for show."