Chapter 3.
The familiar sounds of city life thunder over Waterloo Bridge, it's not quite light but I always enjoy this time. The peace is like a warm hug. Podge snores and dribbles on the pillow and I kiss his nose, inhaling the smell.
I get up and stretch, while mentally forming a 'to-do' list for the day ahead. First stop is the station for a quick wee. Podge always needs a walk and the takings from the night before have to be transferred from my tin into my locker at Victoria Station. The two shoe boxes are fattening up with cash. I like to think of them as 'The Bank of Kizzy'. I never stress about the money going missing, as I'm the only one that has a key and it never leaves the safety of my neck.
Podge waits expectantly, tail wagging and lead in mouth.
"Come on then let's see what the world's got in store for us today."
He barks loudly and some bleary-eyed faces' poke their heads out of nearby makeshift homes.
"Shut that bloody dog up!"
Someone throws an empty milk carton but I see it coming and duck. I smirk while fastening the lead, whistling as I walk away thinking of the day that I'll finally live in my mansion.
Once we reach the end of the bridge we break into a run. It's a kind of ritual, a way of cleansing all the filth from the night before. During daylight, I feel like a normal kid, only one that lives without rules and I love it.
Victoria Station is swarming with commuters. They resemble angry flies, racing ahead, pushing, shoving, no regard for anyone but themselves. I watch them while sitting on the pavement and wonder how many have ever used girls like me. Experience has long taught me never to judge a book by its cover. Behind the mask of respectability there nearly always lurks a murky darkness. Some guy drops some change at my feet and I give him a big smile.
"Hey Thanks!"
He sighs loudly while shaking his head. "Go home to your parents."
"They're dead."
I always need the last word. A few people look at me warily, no doubt assuming that I'm on drugs. I get up and walk inside the station, pulling Podge tightly to avoid him being trampled. The luggage lockers stand rigid to attention like security guards. I remove the key from my neck and open the vault. Looking each way I quickly transfer the money from my jacket into the boxes. I pat the contents softly feeling reassured that my path to a new life is growing. I slam the door catching a glimpse of my face as a ray of light illuminates my reflection. I'm not too keen on who looks back. I look rough as Hell and fine lines that I'd never noticed before seem to smirk in agreement.
Exiting the station I notice a billboard with the message 'Time waits for no one' There is a before and after picture of a girl that looks all of twelve, mouthing 'Fight back, don't let wrinkles take control' Horrified, I push the thought from my mind and walk on.
After a much-needed wash I decide to take Podge to Hyde Park. The day is overcast, which puts me in a bad mood. It's no fun pounding the streets if it rains. I've also got my box to worry about. It's undercover ....but for how long?
I throw a stick to Podge and race towards the river laughing. He barks at some ducks' and I flop down onto the grass. Glancing ahead I notice someone slumped on a bench who looks familiar. Leaping to my feet I walk towards the sleeping body grinning. Musical snores drift from her mouth while a manicured hand tightly clutches a miniature Brandy.
'Wake up!"
The body jerks violently, "Whaaat?"
Lulu's eyes burst open and she jumps up instinctively, while I fall to the ground in hysterics.
"Ha! You should see your face!"
Lulu scowls and folds her arms. "It's been a rough night ok...not in the mood."
"Yeah you don't say. You look wasted."
"Cheers, I love you too!"
I sit down beside her and we both stare blankly watching Podge pee. I look at Lulu. Her black shades offer refuge from the dark bags that she's carrying and her red lipstick has faded into a pink slash. In the harsh light of day, she looks a lot older, she's obviously not been home...dirty stop out.
"So how much did you end up with last night then?" I ask attempting to break the ice.
"What?" she mumbles, her head banging.
I roll my eyes. "Last night! How much are you going to bank today?"
Disgruntled, she turns and frowns.
"I don't really bank now Kiz. Money comes in one door and out the other faster than I can blink."
She shrugs noticing my disapproval. "Where does saving get you these days? Nowhere, that's where."
I sneer praying that I never turn out like her...there's losers and there's LOSERS.
"That's what you think," I say gently poking her arm. "You've got to be like me Lu. You know, have plans and all that."
Lulu sighs, "Yeah yeah whatever, good luck dreamer."
She stands up and her head swims. "Bloody mother of Jesus..."
She flops back down placing her head in her lap, "Take some advice from me," she said looking up, "Keep away from the booze."
I smile, there's no need to tell me that, as one thing I've got by the bucket load is street smarts.
On the way home my mind drifts back to the beauty cream poster, and I touch my face thoughtfully.
Early evening I head back to the familiar embrace of Soho. I nod to Gale, he's the only boy that I know around these parts. He's a few years older and can be a right misery. Sometimes, he can be cool, but tonight he ignores me. I'm ok with it, more than aware of his mood swings.
I shiver as I think of the dangers that we both face night after night. My release is safe. I liken self-harming to a tall ice cream sundae, cold enough to freeze the pressure yet sweet enough for satisfaction. As the blood runs my worries and self-loathing vanish, the black curtain lifts and the birds sing. In many ways, I imagine it to be far more addictive than drugs. The high from a cut is like hurtling from a cliff and being caught lovingly by a springy rope.
'I've got you,' it whispers, 'Until next time.'
Scarred arms don't worry me, as long as my face is pretty. On the streets that's all that really matters. Pretty = money. As long as I keep my wits and ambition I'm 86.5% certain that I'll succeed.
Kizzy will retreat and my true vision will burst forth. One thing I do know is that I'm a survivor, and my past doesn't necessarily have to be my future. I let my finger slide along the deep scars on my arm before pulling down the shutter. It doesn't do to think too much.
I stroll over to Todd's bakery. He looks busy. I rap on the window pressing my face up against the glass, flattening my nose. He laughs and calls me inside.
"Hey Missy, You're out early tonight."
I shrug. "You know me."
I hold my palm against his and we both chant, "Money, money, money."
"Have you got a cake for me?"
Sighing cheerfully he places two Chelsea buns into a bag, before opening the till and handing over five pounds.
"Cheers Todd!"
"You're welcome. Just stay safe ok."
I devour the buns sitting on a step at the corner of Berwick Street. The sex shops are busy, all secretive and sparkling with a promise that they never quite deliver once they lure you inside. I've browsed in them loads of times and all they sell is garbage, movies' for losers' and magazines' and pills for the weird, the sad, and the lonely. The misfits I guess...the type that needs girls like me.
I notice a tall skinny guy watching me from across the road. I return his gaze and he waves. I try to size him up while counting the number of seconds it takes for him to cross the road. Smiling subtly, I envisage myself as some kind of man magnet.
"Hello," he said.
"Hi."
"I was wondering if you'd like to grab a coffee..."
"Hang on while I check my diary."
I pull out a tattered address book and pretended to study it, "Well lucky you, I seem to be free for a bit."
We stare at each other and laugh. I look him up and down. He's not too old and more importantly he looks clean. He offers his hand and we walk towards Chinatown. We dodge in and out of people before sitting inside the Pagoda where the delicate topic of business can be discussed.
He smiles studying me intently. "I have a flat just opposite Leicester Square tube station."
"Cool."Not too far I like that.
My confident grin hides the truth. I don't normally do home visits as it puts me in a vulnerable position, and I don't know any fast exits if they turn out to be nut jobs. At least with hotels and parks' I pretty much run the show. He looks normal but I've learnt not to rely on that.
"I can pay you fifty pounds for the hour."
I sit up straight, slightly more interested, "What is it you want?"
He smiles softly while brushing a hair away from my face, "Not much...just to play a little game."
"Ok, as in Snap or Monopoly?"
He shakes his head. "I call it catch the donut."
"Catch the what?"
A red flush spreads up his neck as I wait patiently for an explanation. He leans into me and whispers. My eyes bulge as loud laughter spews from my mouth. It really does take all sorts to make a world.
We walk into the apartment complex and I take in the surroundings, soft and silent, scattered young trees seemingly observing me sadly, the gates clank shut and I pick at my nails opening up another scar.
The flat is small, the front room looks like it doubles as a bedroom and the kitchen, which is off to one side is really no more than a cubby hole, he offers to take my denim jacket and I shake my head. His eyes bore into mine and he suddenly became a familiar sight. The look of lust is universal. This is followed by the traditional question,
"How old are you my darling?"
"I'm fourteen," I sigh looking around the room.
I wait and he waits, the awkward silence sniggering until he suddenly gets it.
"Sorry, of course, you want your money, how silly of me."
He hands me the crispy notes and I slip them quickly inside my sock while he heads into the kitchen. He returns naked from the waist down, his drab underpants hanging limply from one ankle. In his hand is a bakery bag. Smiling, he pats my hand. I arch my eyebrow while looking pointedly at the bag.
He clears his throat and removes a stack of ring donuts placing them onto a pristine white plate next to me. The smell of the sugar makes my stomach growl.
"Now it's pretty much as discussed. I stand over there and you throw the donuts one at a time and try to ring them around winky, you think you can manage that?"
Winky stands to attention and I smile grimly, "I think so."
"And there's more...for everyone you manage to ring I will pay you a bonus of two pounds fifty. How does that sound?"
"Way too generous,"
The sarcasm is lost on him.
Walking over to a corner he kicks his pants away and wipes his face which has started to sweat. He looks like a greasy lobster.
Feeling a bit queasy I pick up the first one, anxious to get the show on the road. The donut feels soft and spongy it seems like a real waste.
"Ready?"
He nods breathing rapidly, as small beads of sweat trickle down his face. He holds up a hand for the countdown. "Ok, here we go, five, four, three, two, one Fire!"
A strangled gasp flutters from his lips as the first cake brushes against his thigh and falls to the floor. Winky droops in disappointment.
"Do it again!" he barks.
I lick the sugar from my fingers which sends him into overdrive. The theatre posters on the wall observe intently and I wonder briefly if he's an actor. I continue throwing the donuts until they are extinguished on the floor, a sad stodgy mush. He beckons me forward and demands that I massage the remains into his spotty arse. I'm relieved to see that he's provided rubber gloves.
"So would you like to know my name? I don't think we covered that."
"If you like," I answer, not bothered either way.
"It's Ted," he said proudly, "Short for Teddy."
For some reason that doesn't surprise me one bit.
"And you are?"
"Kiz."
"Just Kiz?"
"Yeah, just Kiz."
My eyes wander as I continue rubbing in the sludge. He squirms up and down in ecstasy breathing rapidly. My keen sense of smell alerts me to look down and I step back in horror as he defecates all over the gloves before letting out a contented sigh. Standing up he tries to kiss my hand, I shake my head furiously.
"Bathroom!"
"Oh sure, it's just there." He says helpfully.
I stumble towards it tearing the gloves from my hands and just have time to slam the door before a tide of vomit races up my throat. I wash my face and scrub my hands until they are red raw. Looking in the mirror I force a smile but no one smiles back.
When I open the door he is fully dressed. The room has been cleaned and the air is heavy with the scent of pine.
That was fun wasn't it?" he said patting a cushion and placing it on the sofa bed.
"Yes."
"Now as you didn't manage to ring me I'm afraid there will be no extras this time."
I head towards the door and slip on my jacket, "Maybe next time," I say making a mental note to remember his face. In your dreams! There will be no next time.
He holds onto my arm. "How about a little snuggle goodbye?"
I swiftly move away and he releases his grip. I blow him a kiss once safely outside and he pretends to catch it.
"You're all out of time sugar pop."
He laughs and closes the door. I hurry across the courtyard and don't slow down until I'm back on the streets.
The night is cool and I relish the velvety smooth air. Breathing deeply I try to clear my lungs. I hate kinks but all that money for no sex in some ways is pretty cool as far as I'm concerned.
It's ten pm and I'm tired and mentally drained. I approach Madam Jo-Jos just in time to see Gale step out of a cab. He wobbles slightly as if drunk.
"Hey, Gale! Wait up."
He turns and smiles all glassy-eyed. "Kiz wiz..."
I poke him playfully. "Where've you been then?"
He giggles almost falling backwards, so I steer him carefully towards the café over the road. It is tucked away in the alley next to the Raymond Revue Bar all secretive and homey we nickname it 'The Office'.
"Had a kink tonight," he mumbles.
"Small world, me too."
I look up at the sky, "Must be the full moon."
We enter the café and sit down by the window, a prime place to people-watch.
"Two black coffees!" I shout, "And heavy on the sugar."
I nudge Gayle and his eyes flutter back open, "Ok you go first."
He stares dreamily out of the window, lost in a world of make-believe. He slips on his Ray Bans then lights a cigarette, "Derek something, married man."
I watch as he exhales and the smoke flutters away.
"Of course," I say knowledgeably, "Nearly always married."
I lean closer and pull some fluff from his hair, "So what did he want? a beating or hanging upside down?"
He laughs loudly. "Naah nothing so dramatic."
My face falls in disappointment. "Well, what then?"
He blushes crimson. "It was just kissing actually."
I gag loudly.
"He kissed me from head to toe and had me dress up as his wife."
I screw my face up utterly appalled.
"Sick. Well just wait 'til you hear what mine wanted."
I whisper in his ear and we both shriek with laughter. Two police officers amble by and fail to notice me dive-bombing under the table. The drinks arrive and we sit in silence. Lulu totters past hanging onto the arm of some red-faced guy, both are tipsy and giggling.
I tap on the window and she stops to blow me an animated kiss before walking on.
'Sometimes it's good to be me' I think.