Page 71 of Am I Allergic to Men?
‘I can’t tell you what a treat it is to see you. When I heard what happened, no word of a lie, I sobbed.’
‘So, I worked here?’ I ask her.
‘You did. One of my best girls behind the bar. You and Cass did the occasional shift for me.’
The way my eyes keep catching what’s behind the mirror amuses her. I suppose I was never so prudish when I was mixing people’s cocktails. Darren and Cass escape to get some drinks and possibly wash his eyes out with vinegar.
‘I never partook in the…’
She shakes her head. ‘That’s what Olive does.’ She gestures to the girl with the corset undone, still demolishing her crisps and sitting there with her boobs out, staring into space. She puts a hand up to acknowledge me.
‘So, all these people…’ I ask, craning my head around to see four people all at different angles to each other like some sort of puzzle of flesh.
‘It’s all kink, babes. High-end Mayfair kink. I’m the manager here. I check everyone is behaving themselves and keeping to the rules. I look after my girls. I looked after you.’
‘Thank you,’ I reply, bemused.
‘Oh, you were always a dream to work with. Bloody hilarious. We used to sit here well into the night and chat shit, watching the punters.’
‘Is the guy in the cage all right?’ I ask.
‘Gareth? Oh, that’s his thing. He’ll sit there all night. We just have to bring him drinks and, later, someone like Olive will go shout at him and he’ll lick her shoes. It’s his thing.’
I grimace but look over. It’s not right to kink-shame but I do worry about the tummy bugs he could contract. Still, I’m glad he’s happy.
‘The foursome come here about once a month, like date night. They order the chicken wings in advance, arrive separately, get it on and go back to their townhouses in Hampstead like it never happened. Him on the rack is Larry. He’s into his pain especially when it comes to his nipples…’ She then lifts a walkie-talkie to her mouth. ‘Can we watch out for Mr Smith in the leather mask for inappropriate touching, please…’
I turn my head to her. Inappropriate? Here? It’s all a bit inappropriate, isn’t it?
‘We’re big on consent and boundaries. Safe words for days,’ Tia informs me. ‘They’re new though…’ she continues, gesturing over to a couple in the corner. ‘Bless them… we get a lot like that…’
The couple in question sit in the corner of a sofa, looking as confused as me, wide-eyed and lost.
‘They’re married and want to spice things up but it’s possibly a step too far. Nice as a fantasy but a bit more in your face in real life,’ Tia explains. They both literally don’t know where to look, she’s working out if she should be crossing her legs. He looks like he’s trying desperately hard to suck his tummy in. ‘And someone get some complimentary drinks over to the new couple, please…’ she continues, mumbling into her walkie-talkie.
‘And so you just orchestrate things from the back here?’ I ask.
‘I manage it all, babes. I give people what they want within reason and then I send them home. No judgement, all smiles… Olive, can you go to the blue room. Mr Hussain has asked for you.’
Olive salutes, pouring crisp crumbs into her mouth before she does and pulling a wedgie out of her arse. As she laces up her corset, she grabs a flogging tool from her make-up desk. OK, then. She leaves the area, as another girl walks in. She has nipple tassels, which jiggle as she walks, and a very high-cut see-through bodysuit on. As she sees me though, she stops and looks to almost tear up, running over to embrace me.
‘No bloody way! Luce!’ I think I know who this is from social media and I think she may have messaged me.
‘Hayley?’ I guess.
‘Yes, you silly bitch.’ Her embrace is warm and familiar and I realise she may be more of a Darren/Cass mate as opposed to Imogen. ‘I was there that day when you got squished by the bus. I’m made up you’re here. You’re not working, right?’ she asks, shocked.
‘No, just a brief birthday visit.’
Darren and Cass re-enter the room with a tray of drinks, and she waves at them.
‘I forgot your birthday? I’m an awful friend. We’ll remedy that later. Of all the places to bring her though, Cass.’ Cass shrugs as Hayley walks over to her make-up station and pulls off her nipple tassels without even flinching. She then throws on a hoodie and comes to sit down next to us, grabbing a bottle of beer.
‘Tia, they said to bring you tea?’ Darren says quizzically, handing out the other drinks.
‘Yep. I don’t drink on this job. Tea all the way. I hope them bastards got it the right colour.’
‘They also…’ Darren pulls out some biscuits from his coat pocket. ‘…said you’d go ape without these.’
