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one. Anyway, I’m glad the landlord’s barred her. We won’t have to put up with her crap anymore.’

‘Don’t count your chickens,’ said Sapphire.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, Cora’s a nasty piece of stuff and I’d be surprised if she let this go without a fight. She’ll be raging that she’s been barred, and she won’t like you standing up to her either.’

‘Jesus, Sapphire, cheer me up why don’t you?’

‘Sorry but I’m just warning you for your own good, Amber. From now on you need to watch your back.’

11

September 2015

When Amber returned home from work in the early hours of the morning, she was sore from overly ardent punters and her nose was throbbing where Cora had hit her. The drink and drugs she had taken earlier were now wearing off and she was starting to feel melancholy.

She checked around the house and found that both her mother and brother were out. It didn’t surprise her; Loretta was rarely in and Nathan was probably staying out with his fancy friends again. He hardly ever came home these days, not that she blamed him. He was probably too ashamed to let his friends see where he lived. A quick look around the house told her that her assumption was most likely correct; the place was a tip.

All the carpets were threadbare, and the furniture was worn and mismatched where the worst of the items had been replaced by cheap, second-hand alternatives. There was also a dirty smell that hit you as soon as you walked through the door. Amber had tried cleaning it up occasionally but most of the time she was tired from working all night. Besides, it didn’t seem to make any difference. A bit of cleaning wouldn’t erase the offensive smell and layers of filth from years of abandonment.

It was in everything: the rarely washed curtains, the carpets that held spillages from years gone by and the ancient sofa, greasy with the remnants of takeaway food and alcohol.

She went through to the kitchen in search of something to eat. It still had the same old grimy wooden cupboards and when she opened the fridge door it gave off a different stench of rotten food. But Amber was suddenly hungry, so she ignored the state of the fridge.

Its contents were sparse, just an opened can of beans, a packet of ham that was well past its sell-by date and a lump of cheese. She grabbed the can and peered inside but found that a layer of mould had formed on the top of it, so she opted for the cheese. It had become crusty but was still edible and would be fine on toast.

When she found the bread in the cupboard, it was also mouldy. But Amber was going to eat it anyway; it wouldn’t be the first time. So, she picked the mouldy parts off the edges, sliced up some of the crusty cheese and put them together under the grill while making a mental note to buy some food the following day. She doubted whether her mother or Nathan would bother.

As she ate the cheese on toast Amber became pensive. Although she’d been angry with Cora, her words had hit home. If she was honest with herself, she felt abandoned by Crystal who had once been a good friend. With Ruby it was different as they had never been close. A lot of the girls were wary of Ruby including Amber, whose caution had prevented her from really getting to know her. One thing she did know, though, Cora would never have overstepped the mark if Ruby had been around. She would have put a stop to her straightaway.

But Ruby wasn’t around anymore, and neither was Crystal. Amber’s mother was a waste of space and she was beginning to feel that, apart from Sapphire, there was nobody who really gave a damn about her.

Her thoughts turned to her absent brother, Nathan, who was increasingly leading his own life separate from her and their mother. She knew he had lost respect for both of them a long time ago, but she had hoped that he would at least have shown some compassion. He could easily have afforded to stock the cupboards but, no, it seemed that the only person Nathan cared about was himself.

*

September 2015

It was a week later, and Amber was with a new client, Derek. He was an average punter in every way: average looks, average height and average age of around forty something. There was nothing that set him apart from any other punter, no sparkling personality or wit. Even his requirements were standard, just an hour in a hotel room and straight sex. It wasn’t until Amber was getting dressed ready to leave the hotel that the punter’s preferences came to the surface.

‘Do you want taking back to where I picked you up?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ said Amber.

Then he seemed to hesitate before asking his next question. ‘Could I take your number so I can book you again?’

Amber smiled, thinking that perhaps he was a bit shy of asking. Maybe that was why he had booked a hotel room, because he preferred discretion.

‘Course you can. Here’s my mobile number.’ She handed him a slip of paper with her number on it so he could decide whether to store it in his phone.

‘Erm… will it be OK if it isn’t just me next time?’ he asked.

Amber looked at him, alarmed, her strained features mirroring her concern. ‘I don’t do gangbangs.’

‘No, that wasn’t what I meant.’ The punter looked uncomfortable, his face slightly flushed. ‘I mean, my wife. We’re looking to spice up our sex life and I wondered… well… if you could help us out.’

He was blushing furiously by now and Amber couldn’t resist an amused smile. ‘Course I can – maybe teach you a few tricks too.’

The punter smiled back but his blush remained.

They left the hotel room and walked to the car in silence. On the journey back to Piccadilly, Amber reflected on

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