I’m led to a hotel room where the lights are sparkling, spinning. I am swimming in the lights. The man starts to undress, gesturing at me to do the same, but when he sees my hesitation, he tells me to keep my clothes on. He pats the space beside him on the bed and says, in a deep, honeyed voice, Come now, Love. Tell me all your worries. I lift my tongue to release the words that are inscribed on the page, on my heart. He reads them carefully and shakes his head. He reaches out to stroke my hair. Sure, he says, sure. Let’s get you out of here. And your little friend. Such beautiful girls. You don’t deserve this, any of this.

My eyes fill and he catches the tears.

‘What the fuck are you blubbing about?’

I shake my head. That is not part of the script.

‘What the hell are you playing at, you slut?’

I replace the smell of booze with fine aftershave. I wash out his mouth with soap.

‘Cop on and do what you’re paid to do.’

My head is spinning even faster now and the lights have broken up into little jagged darts. I wonder if my neck will continue to support my head, which feels hot and inflated, like a balloon.

My body won’t do what he’s trying to make it do. I wonder how it’s been able for the things that have happened to it. As if by giving voice to this thought, it tells me things: it won’t allow any more breaking and entering – it has sealed itself tight.

Whack. This is easier. My lip is split. My left eye. Bitch. My nose. Thick warm liquid is leaking from me. My brain zig-zags, boxer’s brain. Insane, insane in the membrane.

43. Nico

43

Nico

‘I didn’t realise I had you all night,’ the man says, rubbing his stubble with the palm of his hand, making a scratching sound, like sandpaper. ‘Maybe we should go back upstairs and finish off what we’d started?’

I’m not capable. I’m not able. I can’t. As I say these things over and over in my mind, I see Sammy stumble out of the doorway to the ladies. There is blood on her face and her clothes are ripped.

‘Please excuse me,’ I say as politely as I can. ‘I must to use the ladies room.’

The man looks annoyed. That wasn’t part of the arrangement. I’m not supposed to have any needs of my own, not even to use the toilet. I’ve seen this before. ‘I must go. I will be back soonest.’ I should say sorry, or pout, or blow him a kiss to keep the fantasy going, but I can’t.