november 1974 part 2

“Mind over body, mind over body, mind over body”

The tube was really useful to help the rhythm along – especially the Circle Line. It always took forever to get to Kensington High Street from Baker Street. Amanda had said not to bother dressing up, so I hadn’t.

It was cold so I wore my grandmother’s ocelot jacket and my cavalry boots. They were tight and they hurt, but they looked nice with my jeans, which was the whole point. Not flares of course. 501s. Only very old fashioned people wore flares in 1974. I also wore a blue felt hat with a small feather tucked into the ribbon.

It wasn’t really working – the mind over body thing. I tried “Amanda can do it, Amanda can do it.” It was interesting to me that I was nervous. I lit another Marlboro and wondered how I’d feel after I’d been a prostitute.

She was waiting when I got there. It wasn’t late, but it was November so it was already dark.

“Ok?”

“Fine!”

I thought briefly about suggesting a little window-shopping first. Slick Willies - perhaps Che Guevara across the road, and then back over for a wander through Kensington Market. Even though it reeked of joss sticks and was full of old hippies and sinister looking men with beards and leather hats selling odd wooden masks and stuff, you could happily waste half an hour in there.

There was no way I was going to chicken out. I never chickened out of anything.

We crossed over the road and I looked up Kensington Church Street. Marie-Claire lived just off there, in one of the big white stucco houses. Perhaps we could pop in and say hello, but Amanda was heading in the other direction, towards Kensington Gardens so I followed her

“Amanda!”

She stopped.

“What do we do again?”

She smiled and pushed her hair back off her face

“Honestly, it’s so easy. Just remember – you have to think 'this isn’t me – it’s just my body.'"

“Oh I’m fine about that bit. I was just wondering – you’ll do the talking right? The money part?”

“Absolutely.” She had a wide, generous, reassuring smile, and her eyes crinkled up at the corners.

‘Don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried, I was just wondering - you know..”

Luckily it didn’t take long – the first part. It felt odd to stop when they started talking to us. Normally I would have put my head down and marched swiftly on, trying to pretend I hadn’t heard. I watched as Amanda turned her smile on them.

I looked at the men while she talked to them at a slight distance from me. They seemed perfectly normal. After a minute or two she came back to me

“Ok, we’re off”

“Off?”

“..Back to the their hotel. Come on!”

We started walking. I had no idea which one I was meant to be having sex with. Perhaps they hadn’t decided yet.

It wasn’t far – maybe ten minutes walk. I wasn’t sure what kind of thing you were supposed to say. I could tell they weren’t English.

“Are you here on holiday?”

“Oh no – we’re at Sandhurst, but we usually come up to London for the weekends”

“Gosh your English is really good”

“Thanks. Actually we were at boarding school here too”

Oh, which one?”

We were suddenly slipping into such a normal conversation – the kind everyone had. It always followed the same path –which school –oh do you know so-and-so? His sister is at my school – oh is she?

Then I suddenly remembered I was meant to be being a prostitute.

“I’ve never done this kind of thing before”

He smiled.

‘That’s fine”

We all fell silent as we went up in the lift. It all felt slightly surreal. The men looked down at their shoes. I watched Amanda’s face as each floor lit up one by one. She was still smiling, so I tried to do the same. I wasn’t going to chicken out. I had never chickened out of anything before.

The room wasn’t very big – two single beds. I looked at Amanda. She put her bag down, so I did the same and waited to see what she would do next. The men were conferring in a corner. Then one of them came over and gave us each some notes. I looked – wow! Fifteen pounds!

Amanda nudged me gently

“You have to take your clothes off now”

“Oh – ok”

That wasn’t a big deal. It felt more like I was getting ready for lacrosse than anything else; except, in my head I was still repeating, “this is just my body – not my mind”

Amanda got into one of the beds, so I got into the other, and the men took off their clothes and joined us – it was all so business-like.

This is just my body – not my mind. Amanda can do it and so can I.

Actually Amanda was doing it. I could hear her saying encouraging things – the beds weren’t far apart, and I looked at the man smiling down at me and I tried to smile back, and then it all went wrong.

“God I’m so sorry. I don’t think I can actually do this. Oh god this is so embarrassing”

He stopped straightaway.

“It’s ok.”

“It’s not you at all! Oh shit I feel so bad. Please don’t be offended.”

I was such a miserable failure. It was the first time I’d ever admitted defeat in anything. As I put my clothes back on I took the money back out of my bag and gave it back to him.

He gestured with his hand that I was to keep it

“No, no – please.”

“But I haven’t done anything … are you sure?...it doesn’t seem fair”

I offered it again.

He wouldn’t take it

“No really”

“Thanks very much – god I’m so sorry.”

“Please.”

Luckily Amanda and the other man had finished by then or we would have continued - me apologising, and him refusing to take his money back – forever.

I was still saying sorry as they shut the door behind us.

On the platform I took the money out and looked at it. I hadn’t earned it, but it was definitely immoral and at least I had tried. I began to feel less despondent about the whole thing.