She sipped her sherry, looking around the room. It was like a Roman orgy. Julia had finished with one client and was now moving on to the next. The noises from the bedroom were getting louder. Then Donny stood up and came over to where she stood. She was swaying slightly, drunk definitely, and glad to be so because it made it all seem unreal. Someone was banging hard at the door and then someone opened it. The bloke from downstairs was there, his eyes out on stalks as he looked into the room.

‘Piss off,’ said one of the men, and shut the door in his face.

‘Great party, hm?’ he asked her, handing her his glass for a refill of whisky. That was all he ever drank. She knew that.

Dora refilled his glass. ‘Yeah,’ she said, passing him his drink. She daren’t say no. She daren’t say that this was a nightmare, and why was he doing this? She didn’t have to ask why. She knew why. Day after day, he had his twisted revenge on her.

‘But you’re not getting into the spirit of the thing, are you?’ he said.

‘What?’ Dora stared at him blankly.

‘Turn around.’

Dora swallowed hard. What now?

‘I said . . .’ started Donny when she didn’t move.

Dora turned around. Donny placed his whisky glass down on the table and then he touched the back of her dress. She felt him pull the zip down. Dora stiffened.

‘Donny . . .’ she said. ‘No . . .’

He ignored that. Pulled down the zip. Turned her around with his hands on her shoulders.

‘Now take it off.’

‘Donny . . .’ she started again.

‘You heard me,’ he said, and his eyes were full of threat.

Dora put her drink down. Oh God, oh Jesus, please . . .

‘Did you hear what I said?’ There was a muscle working in his jaw. He was getting angry. She hated it when he got angry.

Dora nodded, pushed the gown off her shoulders and let it slither to the floor. There were catcalls and cheers all around the room. Dora felt every male eye in the room on her, making her skin crawl. From the bedroom came a series of shrieks and a harsh bellowing roar. Dora felt tears start in her eyes, swiped them angrily away. This was hell, and she was stuck in it. She picked up the sherry and drank it, quickly. Then she poured herself another. Mandy and her punter emerged from the bedroom to cheers of approval.

Naked, exposed, Dora stood there and prayed for it to be over. She emptied the next glass of sherry and quickly poured herself another one. Then the man who’d passed something to Donny earlier came over and took her hand.

‘No . . .’ said Dora.

But one glance at Donny’s face was enough to stop her going on with her protests.

‘Be nice to Mr Leigh,’ he said.