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and a stereo on a small shelf. The walls were mirrored and the lighting was low.
    A black light made Aurora’s dress luminous. I suddenly realised why everyone wore those fluorescent bikinis.
    ‘It’s fifty for ten minutes. You give the money to Emma at the bar and she gives you a tape. A bouncer will wander up and down the corridor. If you get the timing right you can do a bit of lap sitting, let the guy touch your boobs. Or not, it’s up to you.’
    I nodded. I was dying to ask about Frank but it was too early. ‘Thanks for showing me around,’ I said.
    ‘No problem. If you need help with anything just ask.’ Aurora returned to the girls’ room and I knocked on Jim’s door. It clanked as he unlocked it from the inside. High security. No one was getting in that room uninvited.
    ‘Hey Vivien.’ Jim was bright eyed and chirpy. ‘How’d your tour go?’
    ‘Great.’ I realised he’d been watching on the closed circuit television. ‘Aurora was really nice.’
    ‘She’s a honey, isn’t she? One of our top girls. Did you know she has an Honours degree from Sydney University?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘Well she does. And top knockers. Not usually a fan of the fake ones myself but hers are real beauts.’
    ‘It’s an excellent job.’ I agreed.
    He picked up a Polaroid camera from the desk and aimed it at me. ‘Say cheese.’
    I held my hand up. ‘I don’t—’
    ‘We need it for your personnel file. Everyone’s got one. Don’t worry, you look hot.’ He snapped and the camera made a mechanical churning sound as the photo slid out. He waved it around in the air, waiting for it to develop.
    ‘I’ve rostered your first podium dance at twenty past nine, gives you a bit of time to watch the other girls first.’
    He showed me the picture. I looked like a cyber-vixen from the planet Zorg. ‘The security guys are Brad and Vince.’ He pointed to them on the video monitor. Brad was fair and Vince was dark and they both could’ve given Schwarzenegger a run for his money. ‘Now remember to be friendly and talk to the guys. I don’t want to see any customer sitting on his own. That’s why they come here, you know? Sure, they wanna see tits and pussy but they love havin’ pretty girls pay them attention too.’
    The Red Room was filling up. I hung at the bar observing, working up some champagne courage. Suits sat in groups, pissed and loud, drinking since they knocked off work.
    Other guys looked freshly scrubbed and gelled. Their nights had just begun. Bouncy, top forty music thudded out of the speakers and the house DJ tried to get the blokes excited in his deep radio voice: ‘Hi, guys, and welcome to the Red Room. We’ve got some fine fillies on tonight so don’t be shy. Ask ’em for a lap dance or go sit at the podiums. You gotta hand over the cash if you wanna see some gash, yeah.’
    Aurora, Betty and one of the other girls I’d been introduced to were slowly grinding on the podiums.
    More dancers had started and worked the floor. They were quick. Soon as the guys sat down girls would come and sit on the arms of their chairs or stand in front of them wiggling suggestively. I wondered what they could possibly be talking about. Current affairs? The state of the economy? The girls gave the punters five minutes and if they didn’t bag a lap dance they moved on.
    I drained my glass and asked for another, paying with money from my garter. It was now or never. I had to fit in and I’d end up leaving with less money than I came with if I sat at the bar all night. I slid off my barstool and approached a group of three men in business suits the other girls had given up on.
    ‘Hi, guys,’ I sat in a chair opposite them. ‘Having a good night?’
    ‘I hope you’re not going to hassle us for a lap dance.’
    The eldest of the three was fat, ruddy and smelled of scotch. ‘It’s fucking mercenary. Every two minutes—do you want a lap dance? Twenty bucks? What do you get for twenty bucks? Can’t even