Highest Bidder

by Le Carre, Georgia

  Catherine ignored my mother and bent down to begin gathering the clothes. “That’s impossible—” she began, but stopped suddenly.

  My mother had dropped down to her knees and grabbed the clothes. Catherine was so shocked she let go of the clothes which made my mother tumble to the ground. She was lying on the ground clutching the clothes to her chest.

  Freya

  I was in shock, the kind that made me so angry I started to shake. I didn’t remember moving across the room, but in an instant, my hand was locked around my mother’s wrist and I was pulling her up with all my might. I fought it, but the tears blinded me, and made me delirious with fury.

  “Get up!” I yelled.

  My mother was so surprised to see me, “Freya,” she whispered.

  I hid my face from hers, as I pulled her up then turned around to the woman. “Get out!” I screamed at her. “Get the fuck out of here, and you can take your damn clothes with you.” I was shaking so hard my words were incomprehensible. “How fucking dare you treat my mother like she was a piece of shit you stepped on? Just because she has fallen on hard times doesn’t mean you get to treat her like that.”

  My mom held my arms to pull me backwards to stop me.

  The woman’s gaze roved between the both of us. Finally, she shook her head. “I’ll give you till tomorrow afternoon,” she said coldly. “After that, we’re done. I’m pulling all our stock out.”

  Then she walked out of the store.

  I glared after her, wishing that I could hurt her arrogant ass, even half as much as she’d heartlessly just hurt my mother. For a second, I shut my eyes to calm myself, then I wiped the tears away from my cheeks and turned around to meet my mother’s white face.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, as though nothing had just happened, even though her lips were quivering. “Don’t you have to be at class?”

  I watched my mother fight with everything she had in her, to keep standing, to make me believe that her pride had not just been shattered into a thousand pieces at how deeply and completely she had been humiliated in front of Martin and me.

  She couldn’t hold on to that composure for long though. Before she could fall apart in front of us, she turned around and rushed back into her office. “I need to make a quick call, give me a moment.” Her voice sounded strangled and thick.

  I gave her several minutes while I quietly joined Martin in hanging up the clothes that had been thrown to the ground.

  When we were done, Martin nodded at me. “Go on. Go to her.” I had never heard him sound so sad.

  I headed to her office, then turned back. “Have you been paid, Martin?”

  He shook his head silently.

  I knocked on the door.

  “Come in,” my mother called.

  I opened the door to my mother’s bright, plastic smile. I didn’t smile back. I couldn’t.

  Her smile faltered. “Don’t you have class?” she asked. “You’re not meant to be here.”

  I walked up to her and enveloped her in a huge hug. Poor thing was shaking like a leaf. “Oh, Mom, I’m so, so, so sorry,” I sobbed.

  She patted my back as if I was a child. “It’s okay, darling. It’ll work itself out. You’ll see. I just need one big sale. Then everything will be fine. I don’t know why I behaved like that.”

  I drew away from her and looked into her eyes. She was begging me to play along. To pretend that nothing was wrong. To pretend that I hadn’t seen her abject humiliation. Now, I felt beyond sorry that I had lost control … that I’d been unable to hide myself, so she wouldn’t know I had witnessed her in such a state.

  Somehow, I made my mouth move. “I’m sorry for interfering,” I apologized. “I do have class, but I just dropped by to apologize for last night and to say I don’t have to work tonight so I’ll cook. We can have your favorite.”

  “Oooo … chateaubriand with bordelaise sauce?”

  I smiled at my mother. In a way, you had to admire her. The bubble she had built around her was made of Teflon. “No, not that. I was thinking of green curry and rice.”

  She grinned. “That would be wonderful, darling. I’ll pick a bottle of something nice to have with it.”

  I bit my tongue, but I didn’t say anything. Let her have her bottle of something nice. “Okay, Mom.” I reached up to her face and took off her glasses.

  She tutted. “Oh, I can’t believe I went out wearing them.” She touched her glasses.

  “I love you—Mom.” My voice broke.

  My mother’s eyes filled with tears. “I love you too, my little button. Now I want you to go to class and stop thinking about our finances. I’ll sort everything out. I promise. We will be fine.”

  I nodded my agreement with a smile, and echoed her words, “We will be fine.”

  “That’s my girl,” she said approvingly.

  “See you later, then,” I said and walked out of her little backroom office.

  In the past year, we had lost almost everything: my father, our status, our homes, our cars, a good proportion of our ‘friends’, even our peace of mind. Not anymore. My mother was going to keep her pride. I determined right then I was going to ensure she would be able to hold her head high again. She was not going to lose the apartment that my father had bought for her when they first got married.

  When I exited the boutique, I did not head to Uni, instead I pulled my phone out and called Ella.

  “So, did you speak to your mom about dropping out?”

  “I didn’t,” I responded. “There was no need.”

  Her voice became quiet. “Why?”

  “We’re not going to lose anything more, Ella. I’m not dropping out of Uni, and she is not going to lose her shop or the apartment either. I’m going to participate in the virginity auction.”

  “Uh, actually, I don’t think that’s a good idea, Freya. I was annoyed with myself today. It was so stupid of me to even bring that topic up last night. You’re not like that and you shouldn’t have to do things that you will regret for the rest of your—”

  “Ella …” I stopped her in her tracks, “… my mom went down on her knees today. She knelt down and pleaded with some fucking bitch close to our age who wanted to seize some of her stock because she hadn’t been paid. This is now beyond my going to Uni. I’d rather die than watch my mother lose her dignity that way again.”

  “What about her? Will she be okay with the way you're about to lose yours?”

  “That’s not my dignity,” I argued stubbornly. “My dignity is in my ability to care for my mother.”

  “Freya, you don’t have to—”

  “I can’t believe you’re saying this to me right now. When your mother went to jail, you dropped out of school to support your entire family. “

  “That’s dropping out, I didn’t sell myself to some fat, old billionaire.”

  “Ella, I’m going to do what I have to do. My mind is made up.”

  “There’s no billionaire club. I lied.”

  I stopped in my tracks. For a few seconds neither of us spoke, then I yelled my frustration into the phone, “Fuck you, Ella! This is my damn life and I want to make my own choices.”

  “I won’t forgive myself if this goes awry, Freya … if this damages you.”

  “I won’t forgive you if we lose everything,” I growled. “If once again, my mother has to get on her knees to save our lives, I won’t forgive you. And if she breaks and does something stupid, that’ll be her blood on your hands. Send me your friend’s number right now.”

  Freya

  And with that I ended the call. My breaths were coming in short spurts, my heart thumping in my chest, and my hands were shaking from everything that had happened. I felt bad, I had never spoken to Ella like that before, and I hoped she would forgive me. I looked around then and saw a bench. Walking over, I perched at the edge and tried my very best to settle my swirling mind. Anxiety had slowly crept into my life over the last year and remained.

  I shut my eye
s and thought of my father. His smile. His lofty pride. He’d loved us, but he loved himself just a bit more. He spent all that money and left my mother unprotected. For that, the bitterness towards him remained in my heart.

  My mother and I would not have been in this state if he had only paid for an insurance scheme. Our hearts would not have been so broken, and we would not have been thrust into this pit of humiliation with no means of escape in sight.

  My eyes opened.

  Until now, I corrected. No means of escape … until now.

  I watched the world go by, the babies in strollers, office workers carrying their lunch with them; the pigeons pecking at the ground, then flying off without a care in the world. I would have given anything to be one of them.

  The buzz of my phone startled me. I didn’t expect a response so soon. Ella had sent a message with her friend’s phone number. I stilled my heart, then unlocked my phone to access it.

  I didn’t allow myself to think. Only when the number was already dialing did I realize I hadn’t even mapped out what to say.

  It was answered after a few rings.

  “Hello?” a smooth male’s voice came through.

  I did not expect a man and for a second I almost ended the call, but I gripped the phone hard and went for it. “Hello,” I began, “I was given this number by a friend of mine.” At that moment, an elderly woman joined me on the bench so I quickly rose and began to walk away.

  “Yes?” The voice went on. “How can I help you?”

  “Um I’m interested in the – uh … the sale? I mean the auction.”

  “Could you please clarify which service—”

  “The virginity auction,” I blurted out.

  “Ah … right,” he responded as though I was doing nothing more significant than ordering a takeout. “Send a selfie of yourself to this number, and we’ll proceed from there.”

  “Okay,” I responded and the call was abruptly disconnected.

  For a while, I could only stare blankly at my phone, then a text message came through startling me out of my daze. Nerves rattled, I immediately clicked into action and looked through my phone. I was filled with a sinking feeling that I didn't have even a half-decent picture of myself to send.

  Over the last year, I hadn’t taken many pictures of myself. It had been a bad time in my life, filled with moments I most definitely did not want to capture. I turned on the camera hoping perhaps my current state would be passable, but upon the self view of my makeup free white face, and my windblown mess of a ponytail, I knew I couldn’t send that.

  I opened my messenger and sent a text to Maddie. My eyes caught the time. I was already so late for school. I had just arrived at the underground station when her response came.

  Why do you need a selfie of yourself?

  My reply was deliberately vague. I don’t know, but I need one now.

  She messaged back. Why don’t you just take one?

  I called her. “Because I look like shit.”

  “You couldn’t look like shit if you tried. Again, why do you need a selfie? What’s it for?”

  “Look, I’m going underground, so I’m going to lose reception. I’ll speak to you later okay.”

  “Let me search,” Maddie’s reply came. “You used to give me some to edit for you when you still used to care about your Instagram page.”

  Yeah, that felt like a lifetime ago. “Thanks, Maddie.” I tucked away my phone and ran down the steps into the subway. The train arrived just as I got onto the platform and I went in. It was just about noon and the carriage looked fairly empty. I let my gaze skirt to the only other occupant. She was wearing particularly unique skinny-heeled boots. Her white collared blouse was tucked into leather trousers, and her short elegant hair with wavy bangs completed the sophisticated look.

  For some reason, it made me feel just a bit sadder. She turned and looked at me and I immediately looked away to my dirtied converse and oversized puffy coat. I looked a mess and I knew it. All I looked forward to each day was end when I would once again, be in bed, shielded from everything. I couldn’t wait for this day to end too.

  As I arrived at Uni, Maddie’s message came in.

  How about this one?

  She sent me a picture of a day the three of us had gone zip lining in Lancaster.

  The selfie was of me seated atop one of the hills we had climbed to, while the background was of mountains and a dull sky. It had been taken just when the sun had hit me at a perfect angle, and although there hadn’t been much makeup on my face either, my hazel eyes looked as if they’d been set ablaze, and my skin was flushed with an ethereal glow. I looked happy and attractive. This would have to do. If I was rejected, then oh well, my mother and I were basically doomed.

  It’ll do, I responded.

  Then I sent the picture to the number given to me.

  Forty-five minutes later, I arrived at Ealing Broadway and caught the bus to the University of West London. The lecture theatre was already filled and the lesson on auditing already underway. I settled in a vacant seat on the second to last row and tried my hardest to concentrate, but my hand remained clenched around my phone in anxiety. About half-an-hour later, when the last break of the session had just been announced, my phone beeped with a new message.

  I peered down at my screen, surprised that I was the girl in the picture. I looked so carefree and happy.

  Freya

  As it turned out, Mom went to bed early with a splitting headache and since she didn’t feel well, I didn’t bother to cook. I was rummaging through our refrigerator for something to chew on when Ella’s call came through.

  “How did it go?” she asked excitedly.

  I found a half-eaten avocado and the leftover heel from a loaf of bread. My mother tended to avoid crusts like they would undo all her best anti-aging efforts, so I brought them to the counter and laid them on the cutting board. Going hands free with my airpod, I popped them into the toaster, then began to spread butter on them. “They asked me to go to a studio in Islington tomorrow to have some professional photos done.”

  “Professional photos?” she squealed. “Does that mean you’ve been accepted?”

  “I think so,” I responded cautiously.

  “What? Without a physical examination?”

  “He did briefly mention it, so there will be one down the line.”

  “Hmm … right,” she said thoughtfully, probably thinking of me with my legs in a stirrup.

  “What are you up to?” I asked, as I sliced off the few brown spots in the avocado.

  “Worrying about you and folding my three-week old laundry. I really should stop chucking them all in the corner of my room. They look worse than when I took them out of the dryer.”

  The recollection of my friend’s disdain for domestic work made me smile.

  “Anyway,” she went on. “I inquired a bit more and it seems an auction will be taking place this weekend.”

  I inhaled deeply, surprised at how rapidly it was all moving. “It’s once a month, right?” I asked quietly.

  “Yeah.”

  I swallowed. “I’m just in time then.”

  “You can still change your mind,” she pleaded. “I don’t want you to do this.”

  I ground black pepper on the sliced avocados and carried the plate up to my room. “Is losing my virginity to some pot-bellied swine with an empty soul that bad?” I asked, and for some reason we both laughed out loud at the image I’d just drawn. I stopped suddenly and dashed away the tears that had welled up in my eyes. An awkward pause followed.

  “I just feel you haven’t really thought it through, and I’m worried you will regret it for the rest of your life.”

  “I’m yet to hear about anyone who had a blast their first time,” I pointed out. “So it shouldn’t really matter.”

  Ella pressed on, “It does regardless, because you will always remember it.”

  “Then so be it,” I said. “I’ll also remember that it gave me enough to set
tle our most immediate debts and make life a little easier for my mom, at least for a little while. Maybe it will buy enough time for me to finish my education and get a proper job. That’s not such a bad thing, is it?”

  She didn’t say anything.

  “Stop worrying,” I said. “It’s just a one-time thing. Beggars can’t be choosers. I'll suffer through it and move on with my life. Plus, I think I’ve gone beyond the childish idea of keeping my hymen intact for someone special. Who really cares? It’s not at all important in the big scheme of things. There are children dying of starvation in the world.”

  “I know there are children starving, but that doesn’t mean you can’t designate certain values to yourself and keep them special.”

  “Let me tell you, Ella, the only thing that would be more painful than watching my mom being humiliated in her own store will be knowing I could have done something to help her and didn’t because I thought my virginity was more precious than her wellbeing. She took care of me all those years, Ella. And now it’s my turn to do something for her.”

  “Alright,” she conceded. “If it helps, I would have done the same thing.”

  “Thank you, Ella,” I said, my voice choking.

  “Remember our motto. This too shall pass.”

  “It shall.” I smiled. “My only hope is that it's worth it. You said I should get at least thirty thousand, right?”

  “Well, that’s what my friend said, but if things do go wrong, or the money is not worth it, just get out of there. I’ll be coming with you anyway, so I’ll handle it.”

  “I don’t think I can get out that easily. The guy who called made it a point to ask me if I would be okay with signing an NDA.”

  “If they don’t let you go, then I’ll call the police or … something.”

  I sighed. “I am not an ex-beauty queen, Ella. Even if I go for fifteen thousand pounds, I’ll take it.”

  Freya

  At 10:56pm, on the third Saturday in December, Ella accompanied me to the club, dressed all in black in her role of my bodyguard. Her no-nonsense military boots, baggy outfit, and sinister visage promising to do damage to anyone who manhandled me ‒ beyond what they would pay for ‒ had been exactly the comic relief I’d needed to get my legs working and out of the house.