Lynda Plante - The Talisman

Edward had to unwrap her fingers from his arm. She disgusted him, and yet he couldn’t help but find her attractive. She had a beautiful figure, and even though she was no longer a young girl she was still very pretty in a common way.

He buttoned his coat and asked her how much she charged, saw the hurt look on her face and smiled. But she tossed back her head and said that if he was a real nice gent she might give him one for nothing. He may look posh, but he shouldn’t forget that she knew where he came from, and more’n likely he couldn’t afford her anyway.

Edward cocked his head to one side, then pulled her close and whispered, ‘Nothing is free, sweetheart. Get your coat.’

Dora wanted him, not like a ‘punter’ — she wanted him, so she went over to Johnny Mask and took him aside. ‘Listen, this toff, he could be useful — you know, bring in his friends? You want me to make him a happy boy?’

Johnny looked over at Edward and gave Dora’s arse a slap. ‘Go to it — tell him he’ll get a special membership price if he helps with the cash flow down here...’

Johnny Mask’s flat was a monument to bad taste — full of glass and Formica, the new rage. The furniture was Art Deco — there were dreadful satin drapes and bowls of wax fruit everywhere, a grubby white carpet and a huge radio.

Dora danced over and switched the radio on. She smiled at Edward. ‘You like jazz, Eddie? I like the soft, quiet kind, not all those bleedin’ trumpets. Come on through, it’s fantastic, isn’t it?’

The bedroom was even worse, with purple drapes around the bed, which was flanked by statues, and behind the drapes a mirror. Dora lay back on the bed and pulled a cord. ‘See, isn’t it something? And guess what — you gotta promise me that you won’t let on I told you — the mirror, well, it’s two-way glass. He gets people here, huddled behind it, watching the sessions.’

Edward walked around the room, its seediness and decadence exciting him. Dora giggled and began doing a striptease in time to music, throwing each item across the room as she removed it. Naked, she lay back and stretched, then sat up and leant on her elbows, her face sweet and childlike. ‘Well, come on, if you’re coming... I’ve not got all night, and Johnny don’t like me doin’ too much “voluntary work”. I just said you was an old friend, that you’d bring us a lot of business. Johnny wants new customers, you know, with class and cash. They’re always easy for us. Only trouble is the bleedin’ poor ones, they always cause problems.’

Edward folded his clothes neatly on the satin-covered chair and leaned, naked, against the bed.

‘Oh, I knew you were lovely but not this good, yer got a body on yer that’s just perfect, just beautiful. Come here, I’m going to enjoy this one.’

Slowly, he lay against her soft, pink body, and had reached for her before he realized that she was still wearing his mother’s necklace. He shut his eyes, clenched his teeth, feeling sick, and his head throbbed.

‘What’s the matter, lovey? What’s the matter, darlin’ — you’re not gonna pass out on me, are yer? Come here, come an’ let me hold you, just don’t be sick, not on this nice bed.’

Instead of Dora he could see his mother, hear her, the way she would hold him and rock him in her arms. He didn’t know what to do, he could feel it all churning up inside, and he wanted her to shut up. But she kept talking, talking... He grabbed the necklace and tore it from her neck, rolling off the bed. ‘You don’t deserve to wear this, you cheap tart, you slut — give me the earrings, give me... Give!’

She wriggled away, cramming herself against the headboard, hands to her ears. ‘Ah, no! What you doin’, what you doin’? It’s mine, I was give it, yer mother give it us, it’s the truth, Eddie — I swear it, yer mother give it to me!’

He crawled up the bed and grabbed her, close to him, snatched off one earring then the other.

‘You bastard, they’re mine, I’ll have you for this — I will, I’ll bleedin’ have you, you bastard!’ She slid off the bed, grabbed one of her high-heeled shoes and went for him. He slapped her so hard she fell across the room. Her mouth bleeding, she was up like a little tigress, screaming at the top of her voice. He caught her and slapped her face, first one way, then the other, until she was crying, begging for him to stop. Weeping as he punched her, he banged her head against the headboard until she nearly blacked out. She was convinced he was going to kill her, and she held her hands over her face to protect it, but the next moment he gathered her gently in his arms and was kissing her, lovingly, and she stopped crying. ‘Don’t hurt me, Eddie, please don’t, please don’t, I’ll make it right for you, you’ll see, you’ll see.’

He made love to her and she played along, pretending, kissing his shoulders, his neck, his ears... Suddenly she wasn’t acting, it was for real, and she could feel it. To be excited was, for her, something new. She could turn any man on, do any amount of tricks, but she had learned to block it out of her mind. But she lost that with Edward, for the first time in years, years of being screwed by so many men she couldn’t even remember how many, let alone their names. This boy made her feel clean, unused and fresh, and she lay in his arms crying her heart out.

Exhausted, they curled around each other, and he rested his head on her belly.

‘Eddie, you believe me if I tell you that was special, honest it was. I got so used to doin’ it, it’s like makin’ a cup of tea, I got so I don’t feel nothin’, but you’ve just changed all that. Will you kiss me? On the lips, like you was my boyfriend?’

He held her head in both hands and kissed her lips, looking into her eyes, and she reached for him, pulled his head down and kissed him over and over again. ‘I don’t kiss, ever, I never let ‘em kiss me, that sound weird? They don’t mind, yer know. I say, “You can kiss me fanny, me arse, but me lips are me own”... you want that necklace, them earrings? Take ‘em, it was worth it.’

He was up and out of the bed, dragging his trousers on, and as he looked at her his eyes were so blank and unemotional he frightened her all over again.

‘You angry? What’s the matter with yer?’

Edward pulled his shirt on, grabbed his jacket, and at the same time he shoved his bare feet into his shoes, put his socks into his pocket. He had been paid by Lady Primrose and now a tart was paying him — he hated it, and he had to get out before he really hurt her.

‘What did I say? You want your mother’s necklace, don’t you? Eddie? Eddie, why don’t you say something to me?’

He picked up the necklace and put it in his pocket, and she drew the satin sheet up around herself. She tried to touch him, but he moved away.

‘Eddie, will I see you again — you’re comin’ back, aren’t you? Tell me it wasn’t just a one-night stand, I wasn’t just that, was I?’

He was at the door, yanked it open and then changed his mind. He turned to look at her, still draped in her sheet. ‘How much do you pay Johnny Mask?’

Dora stammered out that she gave him twenty-five per cent, but there was more to it than that, she earned from the club, she was more than just one of the girls. ‘I’m not just a tart, Eddie, I own part of the place. Johnny’s my manager.’

Edward smiled and walked out, and Dora slumped on the bed and curled up like a baby. Johnny found her there two hours later and hit the roof — he’d had God knows how many customers asking for her, and here she was, kipping. She had all day to sleep. He slapped her around, and she took it, picked up her clothes and walked towards the bathroom. ‘Is it that swish fella, the one with the face like a gyppo that you bin half the night with?’ he yelled to her retreating back. ‘Gawd ‘elp us, anyone can see what’s he’s worth — fuck all — he’s just a punk that’s learned to speak with a posh voice. You stupid?’