november 1974

“No honestly it’s really easy”

I looked at Amanda. She’d been telling us for a few months now about her new thing – being a prostitute. We were sitting in one of the classrooms at St. James’ Tutors – there wasn’t anywhere else to go at break times – no common room, or playground – it was a very small part of an office block – only fifty girls in a few rooms. We marked the difference by sitting on the tables rather than at them.

“But how? Don’t you feel …. weird?”

I looked at her shiny brown hair, flicked up at the sides. A small string of pearls just showed under her striped shirt. She was so normal, and prostitutes obviously weren’t. It wasn’t like she was even one of my edgy friends, like Miranda or Marie-Claire. When I’d offered her a mandie the other day she’d turned it down. She even had a regular boyfriend.

“Do you wear special stuff when you do it?”

I was really curious – like I was about everything. I’d read about prostitutes in literature – French courtesans playing their lovers off one against the other while they reclined on their chaises longues, and Dickensian hags – like the ones in the drawings by Hogarth – the women whose fall from grace had instantly corrupted their faces – an example to us all.

I wasn’t sure I’d actually seen any in real life. Everyone knew about Soho, but when I was there with my best friend, Miranda, you didn’t see them – you just saw where they lived and worked – the discreet neon sign, the grubby card in the window that said “model”.

We never stopped to investigate – we were usually hurrying to the Marquee Club. We’d made friends with the doorman there by accident one day – a summer thunderstorm had broken a heatwave and we’d been caught, drenched, in suddenly transparent white cotton shirts. We’d pleaded with him and he’d taken pity on us and let us in for nothing. After that we often stopped by – I think we gave him some of our sulphate and he bought us drinks and didn’t tell anyone we were fifteen. – it was a friendly arrangement on both sides.

Amanda would have stood out a mile at the Marquee. Too debby. The loafers with the chain across the front – they were such a giveaway. She even wore a hairband sometimes

“No, I just dress normally”

“And then…..?’

“Walk down Ken. High Street – and – it doesn’t take long”

I knew what she was talking about. Men tried to pick you up all the time – everywhere – the car slowing down, the head leaning out of the window, the comments; all that kind of thing was an everyday part of life which I hated. I always went bright red when it happened.

“So you mean when they say stuff…what do you say back?”

“..Yes – and then I tell them how much”

I was impressed.

“..And you don’t feel weird?’

She smiled.

“No honestly. You shut off your mind from your body. It’s easy. You wouldn’t believe how much money you can make. You should try – I’ll take you if you’re interested”

I was interested. I was interested in lots of things. The badder the better. I wanted to try everything – see how far I could go. I’d already explored the limits of uppers and downers – what to mix, what not to mix, how much I could take and still remain conscious. I knew which drugs to avoid. I knew how to make myself throw up if I made a mistake – a nice boy several years older than me had shown me how the year before.

I was in the top ten of our unofficial “how many people have you slept with” list at school. Contraception kindly provided by the Brook Advisory Clinic in Soho. Fake names, no questions asked; we all went there together after lessons, and climbed up the stairs in twos, so they wouldn’t be alarmed at how many of us there were. Sex itself was fun up to a point, but adding to the list was the main thing.

I idolised David Bowie and Lou Reed – plus I had a ticket for the New York Dolls’ gig in a few weeks, which I was very excited about. Their album cover was one I could stare at for hours – they all looked so wonderful!

They were playing at the Rainbow Room, which was on the top floor of Biba. We couldn’t actually afford to buy the clothes there, but we often wandered through it after school, admiring the glamorous way everything was displayed, helping ourselves to bits of make-up on the ground floor as we left.

I’d never been a prostitute before though, and I felt like it was something I ought to try. Amanda made it sound so reassuringly easy. If she could separate her mind from her body I didn’t see why I couldn’t. Also, if she was around and anything went wrong we could easily wriggle our way out of it together. I’d made up my mind.

“Okay, I’ll do it!”