Mr Udnam looks at me like he knows exactly what has been in my mouth this week and I get a taste at the back of my mouth like iron and grit and earth and ice so cold it could burn your skin away. He could choose not to pay me. He could send me away easily. I keep my face relaxed. Imagine a tiny house somewhere that has a name I chose for it above the door and no man to keep me.

– So the fee will go to you, is that acceptable?

– Yes.

My heart beats so hard.

It will happen.

One day I will have a place of my own.

Another sip of green liquid soothes me as Elise gently pulls my dress down and traces my shoulders with her fingertips. She kisses the back of my neck. Light kisses. Her lips are soft. I’d like to pretend I don’t want this but every bit of my body and mind and soul desires it too. She uses her tongue to flick out and there is a shudder all the way down my spine as she grips my waist and pulls me gently toward her. He undoes her bodice. Her nipples are small. She pulls up her skirt – parts her legs so I can see – blows a smoke ring into my face.

A giant crocodile on the wall bares its teeth.

One hand slips down my front. Another pulls my hair back – exposes my neck – like a swan on the butcher’s block.

1928

Flat 2F2

Flora (33) the drag ball

THE POLAR bear is at least ten feet tall. She stands on her hind legs. Salutes! Children at the end of Iona Street jump up and down. Anxious mothers yank them back. A wee laddie gets a slap over the back of his head. He has bloody knees and he stares at the polar bear with reverence. The energy on Leith Walk is palpable. Blue skies! Jazz music spills out from a tenement window. A woman leans out, watches the crowd and rolls a cigarette.

Down below her people talk and gesture.

Their words are trumpets.

An old man dances – each step a key on the piano.

His jumper sleeves are mended at the elbows but he glides with a dance-hall elegance.

Hearts beat like big tom drums.

A barmaid comes out to see it all. There are 460 soldiers stood either side of Baśka Murmańska.

Handsome, dangerous, war-wearied men.

Baśka has black eyes.