I turn to look at the man who looks like a big baby blowing bubbles through his little O-shaped mouth. Pudgy cherub. The laughter has grabbed hold of me now and there’s no pushing it back down. Up and out it comes. I hold my nose and knock back the dregs of the bubbles. It’s funny, the more I drink, the more sober I feel. The hysteria is rattling about against my ribs, shaking me. The baby opens one eye. A pudgy hand gestures for me to join him in the bed.

‘Mama, Mama …’ he seems to be saying, ‘feed me.’ And his little plump lips are latched to me again. I look down at his head and pray he doesn’t bite.

After he’s had his fill, he looks at me, really looks at me, seeing me, now his appetite has been sated.

‘Are you ok?’ he says. ‘Your whole body is shuddering.’

Shuddering. What a funny word.

‘Fine,’ I say. ‘Would it be ok if I had a shower?’

‘Sure,’ he says, playing coy, head to one side. ‘We can have one together.’

I’ve completely decided there’s no way this dude ever got any woman to marry him or carry his child. Aw fuck. He didn’t use protection. I’ll have to go to the doc and get a morning-after. Last time I took one of those I was so sick for days after. They’re ferocious, those tiny pills, flooding the body with crazy-ass hormones. I cried non-stop too.

We go to the bathroom and he adjusts the taps, doesn’t even ask me if the temperature’s ok. It’s a bit scalding. He likes it hot. Then he rubs me down with soap and washes my hair. I’m screaming inside, a fucking giant’s roar. I can’t believe I’m managing to stay silent, the fist knocking against my ribs, working its way upwards, so I think it might get lodged in my throat and gag me, from the inside.

He’s being all gooey. ‘You’re so beautiful. Oh, oh …’ and on, ‘oh.’

25. Nico

25

Nico

After some time the van begins to slow in the middle of a maze of streets where all the houses look the same: box-like, with two windows on top and two either side of the white, plastic-looking door. We’re told to stay very, very quiet, any sound and there will be trouble. Some of the girls don’t understand, so a man goes to them and puts a finger to their lips, his hand slicing across their necks as they step out of the car, blinking under the yellow flickering streetlamp. Now they understand.