A Place to Call Home

by Carole Matthews

Crystal puts a hand on my arm.

  ‘I’m thinking Joy and Hayden were right.’ She chews her lip. ‘Maybe this isn’t the place for you.’

  ‘Perhaps not,’ I agree. ‘But I’m your friend and would like to see where you work.’

  ‘OK.’ Crystal shrugs. ‘Brace yourself, sweetie.’

  As she pushes open the door, I take a deep breath.

  Chapter Thirty-six

  The club is set in a basement and here the velvet is all purple. I can see clusters of men in suits, sitting in booths. A few sit at the bar alone.

  When we step out into the gloom, I see that Crystal was right to think that I’d be shocked. Around the room there are a few poles which run from floor to ceiling. Already there are girls dancing on them. They gyrate lazily to the pounding music, exposing the intimate parts of their bodies to the groups of watching men.

  ‘Here,’ Crystal says as she ushers me out of the way. ‘Tuck into this alcove, no one will bother you. Don’t talk to anyone. Just shoo any blokes away if they come over.’ Then, as she looks around nervously, ‘Oh shit. Here comes Vinny.’

  A small man in a dinner suit comes up behind Crystal. Without speaking, he grabs a handful of her buttock. He turns her and with his other hand tweaks her rosebud nipple. Crystal tries to stand away from him but he holds her fast.

  ‘Difficult crowd in tonight,’ Vinny says. ‘Hard to please. You’d better put on some good moves. Get rid of that.’ He hooks a finger into the front of her sequinned thong and tugs it down while I look on, appalled.

  ‘Later.’ She moves his hand.

  ‘I’m in no mood for stroppy cows tonight,’ he says. ‘Be good or you’ll be out like Kelly.’

  He lets her go and marches off, smiling smarmily at the customers as he disappears. Crystal raises a single finger to his back. ‘Twat,’ she says. ‘I told you.’

  ‘Why do you let him speak to you like that?’

  ‘It’s his club. He calls the shots.’ Her face is dark with concern. ‘Will you be all right here?’

  I don’t think that I will be, but I don’t like to say so.

  ‘Look, I’m on now,’ Crystal says. ‘I’ll get one of the girls behind the bar to bring you a drink. I’ll come back to you as soon as I can.’

  She makes sure that I’m seated and then disappears.

  I watch the girls on the poles. They’re lethargic, going through the motions. Their hips thrust with angry boredom at the men who sit in front of them and ogle. They have vacant faces and limbs that shout out that they would rather be anywhere else. How can the men enjoy this when the girls look so miserable that they’re here at all?

  Crystal takes up the empty pole in the middle of the floor and, when she starts to dance, she lights up this sordid place with a vibrant energy that’s been sadly missing. Instantly, all eyes swivel to her. The music ramps up and Crystal goes through her moves on the pole: she twirls this way and that and tilts upside-down and, though I can hardly bear to keep my own eyes open, I’m enthralled by the sheer athleticism and skill of her performance. She can really move and seems like a shining star in this awful, seedy place.

  ‘Hiya, love.’ A scantily clad woman puts a glass of Coca-Cola down on my table. ‘From Crystal.’

  ‘Thank you.’ I gulp the drink greedily. I feel hot and my underarms are damp with anxious sweat.

  Crystal dances through a few tunes on the pole and, just as I’m beginning to be accustomed to seeing her like this, her manager comes back into view and beckons her towards him. He directs her to a group of rowdy men sitting in the booth next to me and I shrink back into the curtains.

  ‘These gentlemen would like you to entertain them,’ I hear him say.

  Crystal puts on a bright smile. She gyrates in front of them, holding up her breasts for their appreciation. They look at her with cold, dead eyes like hungry sharks.

  One of the men sits forward and it’s clear that Crystal is to give him special attention. She straddles his lap and gyrates slowly as he watches, slavering. Then she slides her breasts down the full length of his body until she’s swishing her hair in his groin. How can she do this? I wonder. To a man who’s a stranger to her? The man makes a grab at her flesh and she slaps his hand away. The others roar and bay with laughter.

  These men look as if they want to stick fingers in her, and their private parts. They want to rip her and hurt her, and I feel sick to my stomach that I’m forced to sit here and watch, powerless to help. Crystal isn’t smiling now, and tears fill my eyes to see her so abused.

  The scantily clad barmaid comes back with a tray of drinks. In one deft movement, Crystal takes off her sequinned thong and bends over in front of the men. The other woman lines up the drinks, carefully balanced on her bottom as if she is nothing more than a human table. I shield my eyes with my hands as I do not think that I want to see my friend used so.

  If they knew Crystal, if they’d talked to her, then they’d know what a kind and caring person she is. They’d know that she’s funny and a good friend. Perhaps then they wouldn’t be able to treat her in this terrible, degrading way. They must have wives themselves, or girlfriends. Maybe some of them are fathers. Would they like it if their women were abused like this? I don’t think so.

  One at a time, to the cheers of the others, the men take the drinks in their teeth and then knock them back. More drinks are lined up until the tray is empty. The last man takes the drink in his hand and pours it all over Crystal’s buttocks. Then he holds her fast with his hands and, as Crystal tries to pull away, slowly laps up the liquid with his probing tongue from the inside of her thighs while the others egg him on.

  I can take no more. My stomach heaves and bile rises to my throat. I must get out of here, and fast. As I move, Crystal looks up and catches my eye. I shake my head and mouth, ‘I’m sorry.’

  Then, as quickly as I possibly can, I bolt for the door.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  I head straight to the toilets, banging the door open in my rush. In one of the cubicles, I drop to the floor and am violently sick into the bowl.

  I kneel on the cold tiles, head resting on my arm, sobbing.

  A few seconds later, I hear Crystal’s voice say, ‘Ayesha? Are you in here?’

  ‘Yes,’ I manage through sobs.

  She pushes the cubicle door open and when she sees me she says, ‘Oh, good grief.’

  My friend unravels some toilet roll and eases me away from the bowl. ‘Hey, hey,’ she says. ‘Are you all right?’

  I nod feebly. She sits down next to me and takes me in her arms. My head rests on her bare breast and I’m even more aware of her nakedness now. She rocks me to her. The pounding music is still a background noise.

  The cubicles are all painted black and are scrawled over with graffiti. The light has a dim, red glow, and it’s probably a good thing, as it doesn’t show this place in its full horror. The floor is dirty, strewn with tissue, and the smell of bleach does little to mask the smell of filth. It’s a poor place for a heart-to-heart.

  ‘They treat you so horribly,’ I sniff. ‘How can you allow them to do this?’

  ‘It’s my job,’ she says with a weary laugh. ‘It’s not so bad.’

  ‘It is. It’s awful. Those men, they’re vile.’

  ‘They pay good money.’

  ‘To abuse women? To humiliate them?’ It feels worse than anything that Suresh ever did to me. His violence was born of frustrated anger. But what does this come from? What makes men think that this is the right way to treat women? What makes a lovely woman like Crystal become so immune to the terrible indignity of it? Is the human spirit so debased? I wonder if my husband ever went to places like this when he was out late at night, when he didn’t come home at all. Is this how he took his pleasure? I wonder fleetingly what he’s doing, what he’s thinking without me there.

  ‘No one has made me do it,’ she says tightly.

  ‘But you cannot enjoy it.’

  ‘No,’ she admits flatly. ‘I ce
rtainly don’t enjoy it.’

  I clutch her hand. ‘You’re worth so much more than this,’ I tell her. ‘You’re a bright and caring woman.’

  ‘I’ve no qualifications,’ she says. ‘Not a single one. No skills to write home about. I pull in a lot of money doing this, Ayesha, and I’ve got debts like you wouldn’t believe. What else can I do?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I admit. ‘But I hate to see you like this.’

  ‘Promise me you won’t tell Hayden.’ She squeezes my fingers. ‘He doesn’t know how bad this place is.’

  ‘You must confide in him. He would help you. I know it.’

  ‘He already does too much for me. I don’t want him to pity me.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be like that. I’m sure.’

  ‘Don’t say anything. Please. You have to promise.’

  ‘I promise.’ I touch her arm gently. ‘But you’re bright and funny. You have so much to offer. How can it have come to this?’

  Crystal tips back her head and sighs. ‘It’s not a pretty story.’ Her voice wavers as she starts. ‘I ran away when I was young. Wanted excitement. My parents were really strict. I couldn’t wear make-up, couldn’t date boys. I lived in a small town and was bored to death. I wanted to do it all. Throw myself at life. Couldn’t wait. Look where that got me.’

  ‘I didn’t know.’

  She shrugs. ‘I left for the bright lights of London when I was seventeen. Bought into the whole streets-paved-with-gold thing. I had twenty quid in my pocket and not a qualification to my name. That’s how I ended up doing this. To be honest, I didn’t mind it at first. I tried to kid myself that it was liberating and empowering. What bollocks. The other girls were great, though. We were like a little family. That’s when I met Ruth, from the women’s-aid charity you first went to. We’ve kept in touch over the years. Sometimes I help her out if there’s a girl in trouble. She got out of this game quickly. It messed with her head. I thought I could cope with it. More fool me.’ Crystal smiles sadly at the thought. ‘I took some drugs to help me through the worst bits. Most of the girls do. I even believed, for a while, that I was having a high old time. The dancing paid the rent. Kept me in weed.’ She gives me a rueful glance. ‘All things considered, I did all right for myself. When Hayden and I first met, I was dancing in a decent club. Classy. One that all the celebs go to. I made a fortune in tips and there was no… well, none of that stuff you saw out there. It was just dancing.’ She looks worn down. ‘I’m getting on, Ayesha. I’m pushing thirty from very much the wrong side. The clubs want fresh meat. Younger, tighter bodies. At my age you end up working in worse and worse dives, having to do more extreme stuff to earn the same money.’ Her eyes fill with tears and she tries to blink them back. ‘Now you’ve made me cry and my mascara will run. I’ll have to go back to the dressing room and put some more slap on before I go out there again.’

  ‘Don’t,’ I beg of her. ‘Please don’t do this. You have a beautiful soul and this will destroy it.’

  ‘A beautiful soul? I’m not sure I have one left at all.’ Now the tears roll silently down her cheeks and she looks wretched. ‘I’ve done this for years. What else can I do?’

  ‘I don’t know, but we can find something together.’

  She laughs wetly and a bubble of snot erupts from her nose. I hand her some toilet roll and she wipes it.

  ‘Look at the state of us,’ she says. ‘Sitting on the floor in a filthy loo. And me in the bloody nip. What are we like?’

  That makes us both smile for a moment, but then we start crying again.

  ‘What am I doing here?’ she asks, almost to herself.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I tell her. ‘But I can’t bear to see you like this.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She holds me to her tightly and strokes my hair. ‘So sorry.’

  Then the door bangs open again. ‘Crystal! Crystal!’ It’s an angry male voice and I can only assume that it’s her weaselly manager.

  She rolls her eyes at me and shouts back, ‘Yes.’

  ‘What the fuck are you doing in here?’ he wants to know. ‘Get your arse out there now and get the punters spending.’

  Crystal goes to move.

  ‘No,’ I urge her in a whisper. ‘Please don’t go.’

  She looks torn. ‘I have to.’

  ‘Don’t,’ I beg. ‘Please don’t. This life will ruin you. If I can change, then so can you. Please, Crystal. Please.’

  Then the cubicle door is kicked open and Vinny towers over us. I feel myself shrink back, but Crystal stands up, dragging me with her, and squares up to him.

  ‘Get out on the floor, you useless cunt,’ he snarls.

  Despite being naked and vulnerable, she pokes him in the chest and meets him eye to eye. Her voice is level and calm when she says, ‘That’s the very last time you ever speak to me like that.’

  She pushes him out of the way and tows me behind her.

  ‘Come back,’ he says, surprise and outrage on his face. ‘You’re my best girl, Crystal. The punters love you. You can’t just walk out of here.’

  ‘Watch me,’ she tosses back.

  Then we’re running down the corridor hand-in-hand, laughing, laughing, laughing. Crystal is still naked, but her face is flushed, her eyes sparkle and she’s giggling. Now she looks free.

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Crystal grabs her belongings from the dressing room and belts her mackintosh over her naked body, and we flee out of the club before Vinny can pursue us. She hails a cab and, as it pulls up to the pavement, Crystal waves to the security staff on the door. ‘Bye, lads! You’ve seen the last of me.’

  Jumping into the taxi, we are breathless and giggling.

  ‘Where to, ladies?’ the driver asks, and I give him the address of our home.

  As we set off, a sleek black car pulls up sharply and takes our place at the kerb. More disgusting men to ogle the women, I think. The doorman steps forward to open the car door and the four men in black leather jackets begin to spill out. I turn my face away; I can’t even bear to look at them.

  We join a stream of cars and, when I do venture a glance backward, they’ve already disappeared into the club.

  Crystal punches the air as she flops back. ‘This feels great,’ she says. Then she turns to me and frowns. ‘I might think differently when I wake up in the morning and realise what I’ve done.’

  ‘You won’t,’ I assure her. ‘You’ll still feel marvellous.’

  ‘I hope you’re right, Ayesha.’ The taxi weaves through the busy traffic. Crystal lets her head rest back and tears slide down her face. ‘I feel like a mahoosive weight has gone from my shoulders. How could I have taken all that shit for so long?’

  ‘We put up with a lot of bad things when we feel that we have no choice.’ I think of my own situation, which also went on for too many years.

  ‘You’re right,’ she says. ‘Well, no more. This is the first day of the rest of my life.’

  ‘We’ll think of what to do. Together.’

  She opens her mac and flashes her breasts at me. ‘I bet you’ve seen more of me tonight than you ever needed to.’

  ‘That’s true,’ I confess.

  ‘I once turned up at a boyfriend’s flat like this. Just a coat with nothing underneath. It’s an old cliché but it works. I rang the doorbell and stood there flashing my wares. Except this time his wife opened the door.’

  I shake my head. ‘You’re a very different woman to me.’

  ‘Not so much.’ She links her arm through mine and I feel her start to relax. ‘I’ve never had a decent relationship.’ Crystal looks for my reaction. ‘Who wants to get serious with a lapdancer? Whenever they found out what I did they’d either run for the hills or get all weird on me. I might be able to get a nice guy if I’m on the straight and narrow.’

  ‘You might,’ I agree.

  ‘I want to be loved,’ she says sadly. ‘Is that too much to ask?’

  We hug each other. ‘No,’ I say. ‘I think not.’ />
  The taxi pulls up outside the house and we jump out. Crystal pays the driver.

  ‘I think it may have worked out to be an expensive evening, taking me with you.’

  ‘What price self-esteem?’ Crystal says. Then she hugs me tightly. ‘I’m glad you came. Whatever the cost.’ She punches the code into the gate and then waves at the security camera as she opens it. ‘I wonder if Hayd is still up. He’ll be surprised to see us back so early.’

  Hayden is, indeed, still awake when we go back into the house. He comes out of the living room when he hears the front door open.

  ‘What are you two doing back here so early?’ he asks.

  ‘I’ve quit my job,’ Crystal informs him with a grin on her tear-stained face. ‘I’m feeling quite giddy.’

  ‘Wow,’ he says. ‘I think that’s cause for celebration.’

  ‘Let me go and get some clothes on first, then we can crack open a bottle,’ she says. ‘I ran out of there in the nuddy!’ She treats Hayden to a flash, as she did me.

  He rolls his eyes as she disappears, then says to me, ‘Is she all right?’

  ‘I think so,’ I tell him. I’m sure there are tracks from my tears in my make-up too, but I don’t care. ‘It wasn’t a pleasant experience, but Crystal is a survivor.’

  ‘As are you.’

  I shrug. ‘Only time will tell.’ I take off my jacket and suddenly weariness overwhelms me and I want nothing more than to see my daughter. ‘Is Sabina in bed?’

  Hayden nods. ‘She went up about an hour ago.’

  ‘Was she a good girl for Joy?’

  ‘Ayesha,’ he says, ‘your child is adorable. She’s no trouble at all. They sat and crocheted together and then Sabina went to bed without protest.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it. I’ll go to say goodnight to her.’

  ‘Are you coming back down?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I could open a bottle of champagne.’

  ‘I don’t drink alcohol,’ I remind him. ‘But I’d like a cup of tea.’