Buying the Virgin

In the bar, I serve tables, trying to dodge around the groping hands of louts who think that I am on the menu. I slapped one once, and it almost lost me my job. “Hey, Pete was just fooling around…” was the attitude of my boss, Ben.

Take orders, serve tables, clear tables, load dishwasher, clean tables…. it goes on and on…

I am cleaning stinking grease off a counter. Figures move close, to occupy a table. “I’ll just be a moment,” I say. “Nearly done here.” I pull out my pad and pencil. “What can I get you?”

“Two coffees, please.” says a familiar voice. I startle, looking up to see Michael and James.

“Mind if we sit here?” asks James.

“It’s a public place, and it’s not my bar….”

I am interrupted by Ben. “Hey, Jenny, table four needs serving too.”

“Yes, boss,” I say wearily.

Both men look shocked. “Jenny?” asks Michael.

Hands on hips, I stare at them. “’Jennifer’ is what it says on my passport. ‘Charlotte’ is a fantasy, remember? She always was.”

I turn on my heel, and ask Samantha to serve them instead, while I go deal with table four.

*****

Shift over, I return to the flat, collapsing onto my bed. I should read a textbook I’m working on, but I want to sleep.

Still fully clothed, I drop onto the blankets, and pull the duvet over myself, trying to ignore the smell of mushrooms that clothes everything in here. Barely have I closed my eyes, when there is a knock at the door.

For a moment, I simply stare at the ceiling. I know who is on the other side of the door. Perhaps if I ignore it, stay quiet, they will go away.

Michael’s voice: “Charlotte, Jenny, whatever you’re calling yourself; open up. We know you’re in there.”

I get up and open the door. “You followed me? What are you now? My stalkers?”

Michael looks angry, James upset. Both push past me into the miserable room.

“You’re living here?” demands James. “In an area like this?”

working in that dump of a café,” says Michael. “Why?”

eat and pay rent, and to do that, she has

happened to the money

need it to fund the next year or so. And I don’t

bank, to see you alright.” He

need. I’m living on my earnings. And if you sent money, I’ll damn well send it back. I am

like that. I just want to know that you’re okay. Not

Now, Go to Hell! The

I want nothing more than to sleep, but I need to escape from

both of you. I am going

room. I pull the door shut on the latch and walk away. As I descend the urine-stinking staircase,

going. I have left my bag, purse and money in the flat. Even to buy a cup of coffee, I need to go back inside. But Michael and

the dark street, wishing I had at least thought to

“What do you charge? I’ve

and I can’t make out his features. “Sorry,” I

I can add another fifty to the pot, love. C’mon. Two of us together eh? And you’ll not need to

reply. “But I’m not who you’re looking

we’ll just have

am struggling, fighting back. “Get off me!” One

mouth.

round the back. No-one goes down

a hand is firmly over my mouth. Dragging me all the way, my arms pinned, I

hold her. You

“What

one side, slung sideways. Losing my balance and

*****

“How do

from nowhere, a voice in my head, as I stare at a

How do I feel?

have a crashing

bandaged. I try to sit up, but

The doctor will