Hope's Vengeance (26 page)

Dawn’s hand was waving again, grabbing the attention. “Proud’s an odd word to use. Why would you be proud of disassociating your feelings from your brain?”

Once more Hope bided her time, organising mentally, filing in the correct order. “I suppose it was about control. Even self preservation. If I thought about what I was doing I felt dirtier than ever before, but if I remained indifferent, I could keep doing the job, keep earning the money, and keep me and the girls in food, at least until I found another job.”

“I wonder, though, how much of this was really about money, and how much was about not valuing your body, yourself.”

The sorrowful blue met the still solicitous hazel, inviting sympathy and understanding. “I can see that now, but not at the time. Over the next few days the voice in my head kept niggling me, telling me I was nothing more than a filthy prostitute, I’d found my calling, this was all I was, I deserved. Trash. Filth.”

The pause was long, arduous, and Dawn knew better than to prompt this time. “Three days after the old guy I got a call for another one, this time in Newbury, a guest house near a roundabout. Reception told me to go straight up, I opened the door and there on the bed was this revolting, flabby, slimy fat guy. He was naked, and his floppy two inch penis was in his hand, fat fingers rolling it around like a piece of wet Playdoh. I couldn’t keep the disgust off my face, and he noticed, grinning those fat slug lips underneath the greasy black moustache. I wanted to be sick.”

“So what happened?”

“He told me to strip off, I did, I knelt on the bed beside him. He started groping my tits, it was vile, but then he sort of pushed me away a bit, he said ‘I like big tits, these don’t do anything for me. Wank me off.’ Hope was clasping her chest protectively, protecting her bosom from the insult. “So I did. I took the floppy dick, looked the other way, and did the business. I took my money and ran. Drove home at ninety, straight to the shower with a large whisky, I scrubbed and scrubbed, even inside because he’d had his fat fingers in there, I had to get every trace of that revolting shit away from me. I scrubbed ‘til it hurt, then got pissed, really, badly pissed.”

This time the quiet lasted minutes, Hope preparing herself for the next watershed, Dawn trying to comprehend the complexity of the issue. “The third was the end for me. It was about a week later, I got a call, a professor at Oxford University…”

“
The
Oxford University?”

“The very same, he wanted me to go to his offices. Pussycats warned me he was a difficult customer, always trying to slip the condom off, and that terrified me. I thought ‘no bloody way was I screwing a man who had a call girl habit without protection’. Anyway, he let me in, it was a huge office, with a kitchen off it, and a bathroom, more of a suite, really. Everything was dingy brown, dark wood everywhere, yellowing upholstery and curtains, and the air was thick with stale smoke. I mean, I was a smoker myself back then, but I found it heavy!

There was no talking, he looked me up and down, smiling, lecherous, I did my part, standing sexily, showing him the goods. He didn’t waste time, took me straight to a sofa, tugging my dress up, feeling the suspenders, groping my crotch. He unzipped himself, pulling my knickers to one side, trying to force himself in, but I pulled away, made sure I got a condom on him. He tried again, but his hands were fiddling down there, and luckily, just before he tried to get in again, I felt there too, and he’d slipped the condom off. It happened a couple of times after that, and I got annoyed. I told him he either kept it on or I was going.

So he did it with one on, it seemed to last forever, humping away, grunting, like some filthy beast, pumping away. I just lay there, took my mind away completely, I just lay there thinking about how I was going to send my CV out the next day to as many companies as I could find. And that’s what I did. I got a job almost straight away, and I never slept with a guy for money again. I’d earned three hundred and sixty pounds, and it stayed stuffed at the back of my drawer. It stayed there until I was moving to Norfolk, then I divided it between the three kids’, Bern was born by then, I divided it between their savings accounts. I could never spend it.”

Now Dawn released a deep sigh, hugely grateful the uncomfortable story was told, hoping they could move away from it soon. “And now? You’re much stronger now, you’ve gained so much esteem in the past couple of months, and you know that there was an underlying cause to your, to your…”

“Promiscuity. It’s okay, I accept what I was.”

Dawn cringed, that was the word she’d been avoiding, it was too derogatory. “Do you forgive yourself, Hope? Now you have a better idea of how tormented your mind was.”

Hope smiled, shy, innocent. “I’ve never told anyone else, I was too ashamed, embarrassed. It was disgusting thing to resort to, and you’re right, I think low self worth was more of a factor than needing the money. I mean, we were poor, but I didn’t put much effort into finding a job before I resorted to that.”

Dawn relaxed into the seat, she’d been leaning forward a long while, and her back was stiff. “You mentioned you’d been made redundant, that must have knocked you a bit. It must have had some part in your taking the route you did.”

Her words were lazy, resigned to never changing the past, to never cleansing the truth. “I have no doubt it did. I wasn’t so much made redundant as sacked for not sleeping with the boss.”

“No way!” Dawn choked, annoyed that she’d expressed herself instead of remaining calm.

Hope was unable to control the giggle, she cupped her hand over her mouth, fingers forcing the grin away. “Sorry Dawn, it’s just you make me laugh when you’re shocked.”

The consternation was wiped instantly, irritation replacing it. “Oh no, Hope, don’t do this again, come on.”

Hope waved her hands, face turning serious, even concerned. “No, Dawn, I’m not kidding. Ray had me fired, it’s true, it was only your response that made me laugh. Look, I’ll tell you about it, but I’m okay with it.” She shook her head, digesting the next line before firing. “No, that’s not true. I’m bitter about it, because what happened was wrong. But at the end of the day, the pay off was good, I got a car out of it too, and I managed to smooth it over on my CV, so it’s just something to put down to the past, to experience.”

“That sounds fair. Tell me if you want, it’s up to you.”

Hope nodded, scraping her delicate hands over the bouncy waves, deftly taming them, the superb condition reflecting the yellow light. “I will, it may make you understand my determination a little better, well, it might not.” Again she waved her hands, this time halting herself rather than Dawn. “In a nutshell then! Okay. I was on a one day a week training scheme, it was summer, I was just about to take my exams, the qualification would make me a Certified Financial Planner if I passed. Anyway, that’s irrelevant, his name was Ray and he was new, my last boss had left. He was ugly, gross, slimy, but he took a fancy to me, made it obvious when we were alone, and that was quite often.

To cut a long story short, he came on to me, wanted us to get together, and I wasn’t interested. So he had me fired.”

Dawn leant forward, hands on knees, face questioning. “No, come on, you can’t brush over it that easily. He must have had some grounds, surely?”

Hope glanced at the clock, she stood, collecting her woollens together, languidly dressing for the cold as she finished telling the story she seemed so disinterested in. “No grounds. He suggested we have sex, I said no, three days later I was asked to leave. Simple as that. I was given a decent cheque, and they said I could keep my company car.”

Hope’s abject dismissal of the episode worried Dawn, and the fact she’d turned to prostitution afterwards, albeit only a couple of times, was enough for her to see the stage as far more traumatic than Hope was admitting to. She sighed, desperate to bring out the hidden layer before her client slipped away, leaving the moment lost and unchallenged. The movements subconscious, Dawn found herself beside the door, creating a physical barrier to stop Hope escaping. “No Hope, getting paid off doesn’t make you feel so low that you start selling your body.”

For the first time in weeks the angry force was back, the pools of blue were dangerous, flashing, halting. Hope joined her counsellor by the door, eye contact fixed, ensuring Dawn made no mistake with the seriousness of her words, which tumbled forcefully, harsh, unflinchingly final. “I’d love to know how the fuck you think you know how I, or anyone else, feels. Maybe I wanted to try selling sex, maybe it was a new experience and I was bored, maybe I wanted men drooling over me, making me feel sexy and desirable. Maybe you just don’t have a fucking clue about how I feel now, then or anytime.”

She brought her face closer to Dawn’s, eyes still locked, and the volume of her tirade dropped, intimidating. “By the way. Do your best tonight, you have star guests to play to.” Hope swept out of the door, leaving it to close slowly as every trace of her disappeared into the winter, and it took Dawn a moment to understand the words that still hung in the air.

As she gathered her composure, determined not to allow Hope’s anger to affect the rest of her day, a tinge of nervousness crept up, questions tumbling from nowhere. Who were the star guests? Were Vivity going to be there? Had Hope arranged for her baby sister and her band-mate to watch Reveal’s gig at the Horse and Crown? Or was it somebody more important still, was it a record producer, talent scout? Maybe it was EMI. Dawn scooped the demo tape that Reveal had recorded in November from the table into her handbag: she wouldn’t need to give it to Hope now.

As Hope’s final words sank in further, suddenly work didn’t seem important any more, today could be the big day, the life changing brick in the wall. Gathering her wits, excitement, apprehensions, Dawn realised she’d better cancel the afternoon’s clients and get the lads together for rehearsals. Tonight, their set was going to be the best they’d ever played, she was going to make damn sure of that. She rushed from the room, Gayle would be able to phone the two clients to reschedule.

Dawn’s Hope

There was a buzzing atmosphere in the small room, the members of Reveal all nervous with the knowledge that the gig had to be perfect to impress whoever it was that was coming to see them play. Chaz was drinking heavily, the only way to control his apprehension in his addicted mind, and that irked his fellow band mates, they knew his performance was badly affected when he started on the whisky. It was Ed, the quiet one, who raised their concerns as he watched Chaz sink the golden fluid directly from the bottle. “Cut it out, mate, tonight’s important, you need to be on top form.”

The slurred reply brought worried glances between the sober four, realisation dawning that he wasn’t in any state to play that night. Eyes locking, Dawn and Rick simultaneously thought up the same name, and a hurried call to Steve Pickard on Rick’s mobile ensued as Dawn gently settled Chaz into a seat, covering him with her heavy anorak for warmth. She was maternal towards her former boyfriend, possibly the reason why their relationship hadn’t worked. His muffled thanks were lost in the quilted khaki, and she snatched a look at her brother, questioning success or failure with his eleventh hour call. His bright eyes and thumbs up reassured her immediately, and relief flowed through her veins.

In the background the first of the two bands playing could be heard, the catchy rhythm of upbeat blues pulsing through the air, catching their breath and filling the four remaining hopefuls with excited anticipation. They filled the next thirty minutes with stage make up, hair teasing, and posing practice at the mirror, enthusiastically grateful to Steve when he turned up brandishing his superior Fender American P-Bass. He was a star player, regularly strumming session guitar in recording studios across the country for chart topping bands, and they recognised how fortunate they were that he was free to help them out.

Steve surveyed Chaz’s slumbering form in the corner, a sneer rising to his lips, and Dawn, instantly protective, remembered why she detested Steve Pickard, his arrogance, superiority, his insincerity. But tonight he was doing them a huge favour, and she would have to grin and bear him for the sake of the band’s future.

The raucous applause determined that the talented youngsters, Free Angels, had finished their set, and, glancing at each other with trepidation at the forthcoming adventure, they silently stepped from the room, each praying to their chosen idol that they wouldn’t screw up.

Cocky, his shoulders way back, and swagger exaggerated, Steve led them to the stage, the silver guitar reflecting the lights as he stepped up to the tumultuous cheering. He took a bow, ignorant to the other band members, as far as he was concerned he was the star of the show.

As soon as she stepped onto the wooden floorboards Dawn could feel Hope’s presence, she could feel the intense blue nurturing her, mothering, feeding her the strength she needed to perform to perfection, and she lapped up the anticipating frenzy of Reveal’s loyal fans. LeMan settled himself on his stool, and with a flourish he brandished his drumsticks, settling into a catchy roll, leading the other instruments in. Dawn, despite her misgivings with his personality, couldn’t stop herself from being impressed with Steve’s ability. His playing had a depth and directness that Chaz had never been able to create, regardless of his undeniable talent. And he was a real showman, whooping across the stage, playing up to the audience.

The introduction to their cover of ZZ Top’s Sleeping Bag over, Dawn gave her everything to her singing, to the fronting of the band. It paid, they were the tightest they’d ever been, their individual performances immaculate, and the crowd soaked it up with glee.

Breaking Dawn’s Heart

The atmosphere in the cramped room, the air full of sweat and body odour, was excitable and adrenalin filled. Congratulating each other profusely on their superior show, Dawn and the boys were certain that if a record company scout had watched them they’d definitely be in the running for a contract.