by June Tate
‘One more and no more,’ said Stella. ‘A punter and certainly your first won’t want a drunk in his arms, especially after paying out so much. Just lay back and enjoy it is my advice to you above all else. Now let’s get you dressed.’
Flo had laid out a simple white lace blouse with a high neck and a plain black silk skirt for Daisy to wear. The simplicity of it only enhanced her innocence and Stella thought how very clever of her employer. There wouldn’t be one man in the bar that night who wouldn’t want to have been the lucky punter and they would be queuing up to book her in the future. Her long luscious hair was brushed and gleaming, tied back with a satin black bow.
Stella took her into the room that was hers for the evening. It was softly lit. Fresh soap was ready in the washbasin, and a clean towel, and on the bedside table was a packet of contraceptives. Stella told Daisy to make sure every punter wore one.
‘If they refuse, then you refuse to be with them. Don’t forget, it’s of the utmost importance. Shall we go?’ asked Stella as there was a quiet knock on the door. ‘The young man has arrived.’
As Daisy walked down the staircase with Stella, a hush descended over the bar as everyone watched her. Stella gave her hand a squeeze and led her over to Steven, who was waiting.
Twelve
Daisy sat at a table with Steven, her hands trembling so much she gripped them together in her lap. ‘Everyone is staring at us,’ she said.
‘Don’t take any notice. Would you like a drink?’
Shaking her head she said, ‘No, thanks, let’s just get on with it, shall we?’ She wanted to escape the stares from the men sitting in the bar, many of whom had been on the list of bidders, hoping to be the chosen one. There was a feeling of resentment from some and an angry buzz from the girls as they watched the couple.
‘As you wish,’ said Steven who then rose from his seat and holding out his hand to Daisy, led her up the stairs to their designated room.
Once there, Daisy looked uncertain. ‘Shall I get undressed?’ she asked quietly.
Steven took her into his arms. ‘There’s absolutely no hurry,’ he said. He tipped up her chin and kissed her softly on the cheek. ‘I want you to enjoy this moment,’ he told her and kissed her gently on the lips.
Daisy found herself slowly responding to his gentle persuasion and began to relax as Steven caressed her. As he continued his slow seduction, she felt him undoing the buttons at the back of her blouse, slipping it off her shoulders, then he kissed her bare neck, cupping her breast as he did so.
She caught her breath and stiffened at such intimacy.
‘Relax,’ he murmured, ‘I’m not going to hurt you. I would never do that.’
Eventually they lay together on the bed. Daisy could hardly believe what was happening to her. Here she was in the arms of a man who was not her husband, devoid of most of her clothing, being made love to. But strangely, because it was Steven and not a complete stranger, she wasn’t overcome with shame. Beneath his practised fingers, she was beginning to enjoy this strange intimacy.
He was talking softly to her, leading her in her first sexual encounter with delicacy and affection. He slowly explored her body with soft kisses and caresses. Making her feel special, with his words. What was it that Stella had said, ‘Lay back and enjoy it?’ And after a while, that’s precisely what she was able to do, surprised by her own abandonment, as her body responded to unfamiliar feelings of passion.
Later, as she nestled within his arms, Daisy found herself puzzling over just exactly why her virginity had been worth so much money! Steven could have laid with any of the other girls and made love to them for very much less. As he took her maidenhead, she’d cried out, but was that worth so much? Surely not? Would she look any different, she wondered, when she was dressed and looked in the mirror, would people be able to tell she was no longer a virgin? She could hardly wait to see.
Steven draped a towel around his bare midriff and lit a cigarette for both of them. Daisy averted her eyes for a moment and then thought how ridiculous that was. This man had been naked as he had climbed on top of her before thrusting himself into her depths, so why now was she suddenly so shy? Nevertheless, she covered her bare breasts with the sheet.
Taking the offered cigarette she drew on it and spluttered.
Laughing, Steven said, ‘I forgot you don’t usually smoke, at least I’ve never seen you do so.’
She laughed and tried again, with greater success. ‘I know, but I wanted it.’ She lay back against the pillows. ‘Will you be in the bar tomorrow?’
The smile faded. ‘No, Gloria, I sail in the morning.’
She was shocked. ‘When will I see you again?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know, but if I was not sailing I doubt I would come here again.’
‘Why ever not?’
He stared intently at her and said, ‘Because I couldn’t bear to see you take another man to a room for sex.’
She was devastated. In those few words he’d forced her to face the future. She’d been able to put such thoughts to the back of her mind as he had treated her like a lover and not a prostitute, carried away as she had been with the passion of the moment. She blinked back the tears which threatened.
‘I see, well I can understand that. I just hope you feel that you got your money’s worth tonight, that’s all.’
He looked angry. ‘Don’t talk like that, it makes you sound hard and I know you’re not.’
But he’d hurt her and she was on the defensive. ‘Don’t be silly, after all this was a business arrangement and nothing more. I would hate to think you felt short-changed in any way!’
‘It was far more than that,’ he cried. ‘I wanted you to know what it’s like to be made love to by someone who cares about you instead of some man who will come to you for their own pleasure with scant thought to you as a person. And believe me, Gloria, in this business there are too many of them.’
‘I’m sure you’re right, Steven, and believe me I am grateful to you, but it was unkind of you to point that out to me. You’ve ruined it all!’
He looked crestfallen. ‘I’m sorry, I meant tonight to be something special.’
She was immediately contrite and caught him by the hand. ‘It was special, Steven, and I am grateful to you, honestly I am. I’ll never forget you, really I won’t.’
He took her into his arms. ‘Then let’s not argue about it and enjoy the time left to us.’
Before the evening was over, they made love again but this time there was a certain urgency about it, as both knew it was goodbye.
Towards the end of the evening, they dressed. Steven drew her into his arms and kissed her. ‘I hope you get what you want out of life, Gloria,’ he said. ‘I’ll think of you often.’ He walked over to the door, glanced back at her, then left.
Daisy walked over to the mirror and stared at her reflection. She didn’t look any different! But she was different. She had taken her first punter. Now she was definitely one of Flo’s girls.
The following night, Daisy took another man to her bed. She’d chosen him as he looked a gentleman and was well dressed. He’d not argued over the price he had to pay for her favours and had been one of the unlucky bidders for her first night.
There was no preamble with him. As soon as they got to the room he told her to get undressed. She lay, waiting, her hands shaking with nerves.
‘For goodness’ sake!’ he exclaimed. ‘Stop looking so scared. I’m not going to kill you, I’m going to fuck you!’
She recoiled at his vulgarity. There was no tenderness with him. He was there to get his money’s worth and satisfy himself. Which he did – without tenderness, like a pig at a trough. When it was over, he got dressed and looked at her, without feeling. ‘I’d have liked to have taken your cherry, darling, but that was almost as good. You were lovely and tight, not like some of the girls.’
Daisy flew to the toilet and was violently sick.
During the next few weeks, Daisy, as Gloria
, was kept busy. Men queued for her favours, much to the displeasure of the other girls and she discovered how Stevens remarks as to how men would just use her were sadly true. She learned to shut out what was happening to her, while keeping control of what she would allow her punters to do. Stella had told her not to allow anything she didn’t want.
‘These bastards will try and get away with all kinds of sexual deviations. Things they would never ever ask of their wives, only of a whore. You decide what’s acceptable to you.’
Daisy became hardened to this and more so towards her punters. She made the rules. No kissing, straight sex, any deviation, then book someone else … and she fixed the price. And still they came.
She followed Stella’s example and looked on every man as money in the pot. Money for her father – and the rest for her business. She closed her eyes and ears to anything else. She changed. Her mother noticed and was saddened. Vera put it down to the extra hours she worked and the worry of her father’s health, which now had run its course.
Daisy and her mother sat either side of Fred’s bed, each holding a hand, waiting as death approached. Both silently praying for it to be over, to release the man, now skeletal with no quality of life – and when Fred eventually took his last breath, they were relieved, but shed tears for the man he had been. After, they clung together at the bedside, taking a last look at the man whom they both loved so deeply.
The funeral was a quiet affair. A few of their neighbours came. Agnes, from the gown shop and Stella, who was there to support her friend. As Daisy threw the handful of earth on to her father’s coffin she at least felt that her sacrifice had not been in vain. During his final weeks, he’d been cared for in a way that would not have been possible had he been at home. It had also relieved the burden that would have been placed upon her mother. So now every penny she earned, apart from living expenses, would be put aside towards opening her own business. No one would stop her from achieving that.
The few mourners came back to Vera’s house for sandwiches, tea or sherry. Daisy poured a stiff drink for herself and Stella. As she took a mouthful, Daisy said, ‘Well that’s that. Now I can move on. I have a future to build for Mum and me.’
Stella quaffed her drink and said, ‘Well, Daisy, you have really surprised me.’
‘What ever do you mean?’
‘The way you have changed. I honestly didn’t think you’d last as one of Flo’s girls, not for a minute. I gave you two days at the most!’
Daisy gave a harsh laugh. ‘Like you, Stella, it is a means to an end. If I had to lose my reputation for my father I decided that I might as well put it to good use and feather my own nest … or believe me, I would have fled before now. This is the only chance I have to build a future and I might as well take it.’
‘Good for you. I’ve almost got enough money to build my own now and believe me I don’t regret a minute and neither must you.’
‘Oh, believe me, I regret every moment. When a stranger paws me and utters obscenities, I want to kill him. I hate what I’ve become with every fibre of my body, but I will make every man who wants me pay dearly for the privilege and when I eventually walk away, I’ll remember how I had to work to make it. I know no man will want to marry me, knowing my background, and I’ll never lie about it because if I do someone will remember and talk, but that’s fine because I’ll make another name for myself as a top-class couturier.’
Stella smiled and said, ‘Good for you. I really admire your spirit and you will need it because your reputation will follow you for a while until you become established, then no one will give a damn. All they’ll want is to be dressed by you, but before that, you’ll have a battle on your hands.’
‘Listen!’ Daisy exclaimed. ‘If I can put up with being one of Flo’s girls, I can put up with anything if I have to.’
The following evening, Daisy was sitting at the bar talking to Harry, sipping her usual tonic water, when Ken Woods walked in and sat on a stool beside her.
Daisy didn’t acknowledge his presence and continued to chatter to Harry.
‘I want to book an hour with you,’ said Woods. ‘It’s about time you made room for me on your list of punters.’
She looked at him coldly. ‘I’m sorry, Mr Woods, but there never will be room for you among my clients,’ and she started to get off the stool when he grabbed her by the arm.
‘You are such a stuck-up little bitch!’ he snapped. ‘You think you are so special. Well let me tell you, girlie, flat on your back you ain’t no different from any woman.’
‘If that’s the case, Mr Woods, why are you getting all fired up? Book one of the other girls, they don’t cost as much anyway, you’ll get more for your money!’ And snatching her arm away, she walked to the back of the room and sat down with Stella.
‘You keep away from that bugger,’ warned Stella. ‘He’s been panting after you ever since you came here to work behind the bar.’
‘I know,’ said Daisy, ‘he and his friend the butcher give me the creeps. No one could pay me enough money to take him on as a client.’
Flo entered the bar as they chatted and Daisy saw Woods waylay her and talk earnestly to her. Flo nodded and walked over to Daisy.
‘Mr Woods …’ she began.
‘Don’t bother, Flo,’ interrupted Daisy. ‘I’m not interested in him.’
‘He’s prepared to pay handsomely,’ Flo argued.
‘Not interested,’ snapped Daisy.
‘Well I bloody well am.’ Flo’s cheeks flushed with anger. ‘You’re losing me money!’
‘Well, Flo, if you’re so worried, you take him on.’ Daisy glared at her employer daring her to argue further.
‘You, my dear, are beginning to really piss me off with your attitude.’
‘Am I? That works both ways. You agreed to the way I work and let’s be honest I’m a bloody gold mine to you at the moment so don’t kill the goose who lays your golden eggs!’
Flo stalked off towards her office.
‘You take it easy with her,’ said Stella. ‘Flo can be a bad enemy, don’t push her too far.’
‘Listen, Stella, I know that my nights are numbered. The novelty of having me will wear off all too soon. Until then I’m going to make as much money as I can but I will pick the men and no matter how much that man Woods offered, it would never be enough!’
Daisy’s next appointment arrived and she greeted him warmly as he ordered a drink. All the time she could feel the gaze of Ken Woods, following her every move.
Thirteen
There was a bad start to 1915. The upper Thames valley became flooded and Windsor Castle became an island in a lake. In January, the threat of Zeppelins became a reality as they crossed the Norfolk coast and bombed unsuspecting British towns, and, abroad, British troops defended the Suez Canal from Turkish troops. In March, the battle for supremacy launched the spring offensive in Ypres.
Captain Portman, with his company, was in the thick of the fighting, trying to capture a small hill. After detonating several mines, the hill had been secured. Hugh sat on a broken chunk of tree and lit a cigarette, sweat beading his forehead – thankful to still be alive. After taking his short break, he walked along the line of men, sheltering in dugouts, praising them for a job well done – proud of his men as he chatted to them, yet saddened when he was given the numbers of those who’d perished. But being a professional soldier, he knew that this was inevitable.
Later, he took the opportunity to write a few words to his wife, though God only knew when he’d be able to mail it. He pictured his home in Brockenhurst. The daffodils, in their hundreds, would soon be in bloom, the buds on the trees forming. He looked around at the devastation surrounding him, the mud, the barbed wire, the rotting bodies … yet this was his life and he revelled in it. His wife Grace could never even begin to understand.
Grace was sitting on a train heading for Southampton, gazing out at a very different scene. The verdant countryside, so fresh, watching the newborn lambs gambo
lling in the fields alongside their mothers and she thought how wonderful nature was. She’d kept busy helping rally her neighbours into knitting for the troops, helping out at the local hospital where she could and holding bazaars trying to collect money for parcels to send to the troops at the front. But today she was off to meet a friend for lunch and to shop.
After leaving the restaurant and bidding her friend goodbye, she walked along Above Bar, stopping to look in the window of one of the stores just as Daisy passed by.
‘Daisy!’ Grace called.
Turning round, Daisy was surprised to see Mrs Portman walking towards her.
‘Daisy, how lovely to see you.’
Smiling, she greeted the woman warmly. ‘How are you?’ she asked.
‘Oh, Daisy my dear, I have missed you so much. Madam Evans made a grave mistake in losing you.’
Daisy flushed with embarrassment. ‘It’s nice of you to say so.’
‘Look, please come and have a cup of coffee with me,’ urged Grace. ‘I want to know how you are getting on.’ She would brook no argument and Daisy found herself seated in a nearby coffee house, hoping that the woman wouldn’t question her too closely.
Once she’d ordered, Grace said, ‘Agnes told me why you were asked to leave, how ridiculous! I know you were working as a barmaid to earn extra money for your poor father, how is he?’
‘Sadly he died at the end of last year,’ Daisy told her.
‘I am so sorry, my dear. So what are you doing now?’
‘I’m still working at the club, but I’m saving my money. I want to open my own business.’
Grace clapped her hands with glee. ‘What a perfectly splendid idea. You have a certain talent, Daisy, that shouldn’t be wasted. I will certainly come to you when you do and I’ll tell my friends. I would be able to bring you quite a bit of business.’