I was in the office at the back of the Copper Jug that Friday night. I usually count the takings on a Friday. Gemma was in the bar serving.
‘Gemma, c’mere a minute and give us a hand.’
Fra – Fra manages the place for me – gave me a bit of a ‘don’t keep her long’ look. The place was crammed. Tina Turner was belting out ‘Steamy Windows’ on the jukebox. Seemed appropriate. The upstairs ones’d be steamy when Sally got her kecks off.
‘Yes, Red?’
I led her into the office. ‘Count that, will you?’ There must’ve been twenty-odd grand on the desk. The sight of it made her eyes ping. The first time anybody’d trusted her, by the look of her.
‘I’m expecting company, Gemma. Send her up when she arrives. Sally her name is. She’s one of the girls I was telling you about who’d fill you in on those support groups. Have a word with her when she’s finished.’
I left her to it. Sally arrived and Gemma sent her up. I fucked Sally then sent her down to tell Gemma to give her two hundred quid. Nice and casual. As if Sally was nothing more than hired help. That’s all she was anyway. Then I had a shower and came down.
‘How you getting on, Gemma?’
She’d figured out what the two hundred was for but didn’t say. Just looked embarrassed. ‘OK.’
‘Good. Give that to Fra when you’re finished. I’m away. See ya.’
That was it. A few Fridays came and went. Nice girls with them. Gemma had to know that she herself, being young and attractive, was not of particular interest to me as far as it came to fucking her – that I paid for girls when I wanted them and wasn’t into making passes. Detached.
I let this situation between me and Gemma build up over the weeks. I say ‘situation’. I won’t use the word ‘relationship’. It’s not a word I feel comfortable with. I haven’t felt anything for anyone since Sean. Gemma was to be used, nothing more. How she felt about me, I neither knew nor cared. Distance. I always keep my distance from people. I didn’t want my emotions getting in the way of what I was about.
The thing was, Gemma went to a couple of Charlie Swags’s nightclubs on weekends and got into Sally’s company. Which meant she got into Ted Lyle’s. All you have to do is look at Ted to know what he’s thinking. When you see him coming all suave – if jewellers displayed their wares on pimps, Ted’d be a walking model for them – Mr ‘No Problem’ – you know he’s making a move. He was looking at Gemma and seeing pound signs. And if he didn’t tell Sally to tell Gemma that she could see them too, if she came and worked for him, he wasn’t the greedy fucker I knew him to be. Oh he’d take it nice and easy. Everything aimed at making Gemma feel comfortable with Sally’s way of earning a living. A lot of girls you can just put it to them straight. Tell them they’ve got the goods and do they want to get the best returns from them? Other girls would take it as an insult of course. But by allowing a girl to gradually get used to the idea that someone like Sally was making plenty, doing all right for herself, being looked after, no violence, all that, if a girl is of a mind, it slowly begins to seep in that it’s just a good way to make money. Five or six punters a night, five or six hundred in their pockets a night. The important thing is not to rush it. I’m telling you stuff you probably already know here. If you don’t, fuck knows where you’ve been living.
The following Friday night, Gemma’s counting the money. She’s expecting, as usual, a girl to turn up for me to fuck. I hadn’t ordered one, but I didn’t tell Gemma that. I didn’t say a word – just let her think I had. I went upstairs, came down a half-hour later.
‘No sign of one of Ted Lyle’s, Gemma?’ Straight face. Always keep a straight face. Gemma had to have the impression I dealt with girls simply on a business level. I paid bar staff for a service; I paid girls for a service.
‘No,’ she said. No red face now. She’d become used to it.
‘Fuck it.’ I sat down at the desk beside her. ‘I hate people screwing up my routine.’
‘I know.’
I read nothing into that. I’d been let down. Nothing serious. No big deal. But Gemma, I was sure, liked the honesty of my situation, the way I acted, the straightforwardness of it all. No hassle. A ‘service’ hadn’t turned up, that’s all. It was important that Gemma felt that although my set-up might be unusual to many, it was normal to me. I could get girls on a phone call. Gemma, therefore, had to see herself as just another girl.
‘I’m gonna ask you a question here, Gemma. Say yes or no. It’s no big deal to me either way. I can easily ring Ted Lyle and tell him to get his finger out.’
She sensed what was coming. Her face went red and a gulp was on the way. ‘What is it?’ came out with a ‘Fuck me, what’s he gonna ask me?’ attached to it.
‘I want to fuck you.’ Unorthodox? Not to me. Depends what you’re used to. She knew it was just business. But
