“I thought not!” I wished then I had some wine in front of me to give me some courage. Why had I decided not to have anything in the flat? I tried to sound welcoming. “Where did you see my number, darling? I like to keep track of these things.”

“I saw it on Sex Works,” he said. “Thought I’d give you a try.”

I looked around for my whistle, but it was on the other side of the room and I couldn’t be bothered to move. “Sorry,” I said, though I had no idea why I was apologizing. “Wrong number.”

I did my usual routine of blocking his number, then pulled my laptop toward me. It was time to see what there was on me online.

•   •   •

Within seconds I’d found Sex Works, with its slogan “Some women are too easy.” It was a site for escorts, though it didn’t sound as though the women left their own home, so that was a bit of a misnomer. My first name was used—and mine’s uncommon enough in women my age around here—and my age was listed as between thirty and forty. They named the area I lived in. My phone number was there with a description of myself and what I would do for money, which made my eyes nearly pop out of my head. Next to my name was a photo of a woman’s naked body. Her face was hidden in a pillow. It wasn’t me. It wasn’t anything like me, apart from her having shoulder-length dark hair.

And you know there were a few comments underneath, where they rated me. They said that I was a slut, that I wanted it but wouldn’t deliver, that I messed people around. Yet the calls had continued. What kind of review would there have to be to make someone resist making that call?

My phone started to ring again. It was from a withheld number. It gave me the creeps to think it was someone who was on that site at the same time as me, looking at that photo and my apparent wish list, and ignoring the bad reviews. Maybe it was someone who thought I should be punished for not treating the punters well. Quickly I rejected the call.

I searched on the site and eventually found an e-mail address for the webmaster. It took ten minutes; he really didn’t want to be found. I sent a short snappy e-mail promising legal action if my number wasn’t deleted immediately.