Read The Intimate Adventures of a London Call Girl for Free Online Page A

to, but also knew, as I walked out the glass doors, he'd be watching me go.
    I went home and told the housemates I was in love. The fact that I was also blind drunk and trying to balance four candles in a fir wreath on my head is by the by.
    The Boy and I met for drinks later that week but nothing happened. I felt uncomfortable following up on the promise of that first meeting. He did try at first ‐ a lingering glance here, a trailing hand there ‐ but soon learned the boundaries. He may have been a fully paid‐up member of the bon ton, but he was no cad. Or perhaps he was biding his time. The relationship I was in was clearly not healthy. By the time I split with that boyfriend and moved to London, the Boy had new digs in Brighton. He drove up to meet me and
    36
    moved everything in to my new flat. We fucked for the first time among the scattered boxes and suitcases and piles of books on the floor. Wooden planks. I had friction scars for weeks after.
    samedi, le 29 novembre

    I've been cleaning the make‐up shelf, discarding crusty bottles of drying nail varnish and foundation‐sodden sponges. In the beginning I thought this job would just be a stopgap, but it's been absolute months now. It's become almost routine, but I remember when it didn't always seem like that.
    Preparing for my first appointment had felt like making up for the stage. I recall laying out a liquid base and a stick one; eyeshadow, liner and mascara; lipliner, gloss. Preparation had started early. Too early. But I had no inkling of how to put it all together, how long it would take.
    I showered and dried myself carefully in the white‐tiled bathroom, looking for stray hairs missed by waxing and shaving. A quick blast of deodorant. Applied a drop of cologne to my cleavage and inside elbows. Put on a white lace bra and knickers, stockings, dried my hair. Part it here or there? Which way should it fall? Hair up or hair down? Fluffy or straight? I straightened the ends so they wouldn't curl in the damp night air but otherwise left it alone. Small pearl earrings.
    I put the dress over my head then started on make‐up.
    Foundation, no powder. A damp tissue applied lightly to take the excess off. Violet eyeshadow ‐ only a touch. A dab of silvery white eyeliner just at the inside corner of my eyes. Cat eyes or not?
    Vamp or girlish? My hand was shaking slightly. Unwound the mascara, wiped the excess on a tissue,
    37
    let it sit in the air a moment. Brushed on one layer. Then a second.
    My eyes in the mirror stood out a mile from the rest of the face.
    I lined my lips, wondering how much to use and how much would come off on him. What would I have to take with me, would there be time to re‐apply? With the tip of my little finger I dabbed a liquid blusher on as lipstain. Gloss. More gloss. I thought of the manager's advice: 'Men love glossy lips.' I suppose it doesn't take a genius to realise why.
    A touch of gel to keep the hair off my forehead and cheeks. A clip to keep it back. I put the shoes on and buckled them at the ankles. Black, patent‐leather stilettos showing a long stripe of instep. Incredibly high heels, but I'd once run for a bus in them and had danced till morning in them many times. Fuck‐me shoes.
    Then my coat. College scarf or fluffy blue one? The blue would leave fibres on the coat; I decided against it in the end. It was a cold night. Navy gloves with tiny buttons along the wrist. I stuck a pin with a butterfly in the coat lapel. Nervous; took deep breaths.
    Still a quarter of an hour to wait.
    My mouth had gone dry. Went to the kitchen and poured a drink. Was alcohol a bad idea? Didn't know. One couldn't hurt.
    My lips left a crackling pink half‐moon on the rim of the glass.
    Packed a handbag. I was sweating inside the coat and scarf and gloves. Still ten minutes until the taxi. Looked at the location for the appointment again in the A‐Z. Didn't want to carry it with me.
    It was near a tube station. If I could memorise the