Page 54 of Girls Just Want to Have Sun

The Strip is buzzing. There are gorgeous women swirling around gracefully on poles and tabletops. It’s too hot to wear anythingbut a G-string. It makes complete sense, especially in this heat, with the disco lights whizzing round and the music pumping out. There’s a strong party vibe and people are spilling out from the bars on to the pedestrianised square where bartenders with beer kegs on their backs are refilling drinks with a hose. All the men seem to be wearing their T-shirts tucked into their back pockets, allowing the air to cool their armpits.

Big Sue returns from the bar with a huge fishbowl full of bright green liquid and a dozen straws and plonks it down on our table. We all take a slurp. It’s delicious.

‘What’s in it?’ I ask, admiring the neon glow.

‘Everything,’ she says.

‘Right,’ barks Cherry. ‘Up you get. It’s time to show you how to dance.’

We make a dance floor out of the area next to us and I join in with the girls as they do their signature routine to a Spice Girls classic. I’m told many times to loosen up, make my body pop, use my arms and make love to the crowd.

‘Make love to them, Connie!’ Cherry orders forcefully, watching me twerk awkwardly to a group of frightened teen hipsters. ‘But not like that!’

It takes another round of drinks for me to finally get the hang of sexy dancing.

‘Connie, I will show you how to pole dance, now you’ve got a grasp of the basics,’ says Tash, clambering up onto the table to grab the pole. Her swollen ankle is now level with our eyes, and I can appreciate how bulbous it is. Just as she hooks her leg round it, there’s a big cheer from the girls as the nuns swoop into the bar, their eyes lighting up when they spot us. They come tearing towards us like overgrown, hairy toddlers. Tash squeals with delight and leaps off the table in the direction of Sister Kevin.

We all hold our breath as she soars towards him like a flying squirrel. He catches her expertly, her legs straddling his waist, their mouths colliding in a somewhat violent-looking kiss.

We watch, mesmerised.

They kiss.

And kiss.

When she starts to bounce provocatively up and down, one bum cheek nestled firmly in each of his hands, I realise she might not be coming back from this adult cuddle to finish her demonstration anytime soon.

Meet Tash, everyone, my role model and mentor.

To our surprise, the Mother Superior leaps nimbly up onto the table, grabs the pole and within seconds his tattooed head and legs are gracefully whizzing round the pole. We all gasp as he expertly lifts his body sideways, perpendicular to the table, using only his reedy tattooed arms.

‘The trick is to change your perception,’ he tells us, flipping upside down. ‘This is the swan.’

Liberty is ecstatic at such gymnastic prowess. He is making it look effortless. I feel prickles on the back of my neck and turn to see Matteo has just walked in with Nacho and a gang of the cliff divers. Like a submarine periscope, Big Sue cranks her neck up to peer over the crowd. She clocks who is in my line of vision. Like lightning, she scoops me up and plonks me on the table with instructions to grab the pole and start dancing like a nun.

Shitting hell.

‘Do it!’ roars Cherry, drawing attention to me. ‘Do it now!’

The Mother Superior hoists me up the pole by the waist. I slide immediately back down. ‘Forget everything you ever learned about gravity and just let yourself go.’ He then pirouettes off the table to land in a balletic pose.

Matteo is looking around. It won’t be long before he spots me standing on top of this table full of drinks. My chest immediatelytightens, causing me to squeeze my eyes closed and grab the pole. I am greatly disappointed to find that, when I open them, I have not been magically teleported far, far away from here. I stand rigidly while the group makes its way towards us. I have been spotted.

My skin prickles with equal measures of nausea and excitement as Matteo’s gaze travels from my strappy sandals, up my bare legs, to my tiny animal-print see-through body-con dress, underwear clearly visible. I glance over to the professional dancers twirling around, making this strenuous art form look easy. I cross my heart and hope for the best. I shift my weight, hooking one leg round the pole, and swing for dear life. I see the bar full of people blur as I spin round and round. I grab tightly on to the pole, closing my eyes to stop the dizziness.

‘I’m going to nail this,’ I chant silently. ‘Be confident. Be powerful. Be sexy.’

I lean seductively out from the pole, arching my back, nipples like Greek olives pointing skyward as gravity spins me in circles. My thick mane of glorious hair swishes behind me and before long I’m wondering if I look as fabulous as this feels. It takes all my upper arm strength to clamp my thighs to the pole and lift both legs off the table while I swoosh sexily for all I’m worth.

I risk a quick peek over to Matteo. We lock eyes for a long moment, him walking towards me in slow motion, me gyrating for him, oozing sensuality from my every pore. The music pumps out, and the buzz of people chattering in my ears and the reckless feeling that Matteo is watching me be a total goddess is flooding my veins with adrenaline.

I. AM. NAILING. IT.

He stands right in front of me. I stretch my legs out so that he can appreciate the lean muscle, honed by years of jogging.

He gives me a shy, appreciative smile. It floods my soul with confidence. I close my eyes and wonder if, like me, he is imagining my thighs wrapped around his neck.

I bend over backwards, my boobs somewhere down to my chin. Even upside down he’s incredibly handsome. I pull myself up as provocatively as I can and swing like a performing chimpanzee.

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