Love on the Dark Side of the City

by Kennedy, Thomas

  The girls breezed in to check out their costumes and chat. They fussed over Megan with great curiosity as the latest addition to their strange way of life.

  “What clothes do you have Megan?” Sara asked with a twinkle in her eye.

  “We always dress the new maid” Bobby said, “It’s a tradition.”

  “What?” Megan said becoming concerned.

  “Oh, go along with them and get it over,” Housekeeper encouraged.

  “Yes lets have a look at you,” Slim said unbuttoning Megan’s dress at the back.

  In seconds Megan was standing in her underwear feeling a bit scared and very red in the face. “Please,” She begged but they ignored her and began discussing her figure. “I’m not glamorous,” Megan said, “ I don’t have much clothes.”

  “Don’t worry about glamour, its all nonsense,” Spice said, “men are simple creatures, what you have to do is dress to show off the bits of you that you are happy with. That way they won’t notice the bits you don’t want them to see. After all no one is perfect.”

  “Yes,” Angelica interjected, “The most important thing you have to learn is what not to wear. The way a woman dresses can influence men a lot. And if we look sexy we feel sexy.”

  “I don’t want to be sexy,” Megan objected.

  “Nonsense. Do you have a boyfriend?” Angel asked.

  Megan nodded.

  “Then knowing how to look well is your secret weapon.”

  “We have to lose that bra,” Sara said, “You have great men magnets there Megan but you treat them disgracefully. Never ever wear a bra that looks like it’s designed from pre-stressed concrete. If your bra shows its contours through the top it is wrong. Take it off.”

  Willing hands scrambled and Megan found herself topless holding her hands so as to conceal as much of her ample top as she could.

  “She’s about my size on top.” Spice said and disappeared off saying, “I have a couple of spares. What we need is something with under wires and strong straps to put Megan in control of her cleavage.”

  They all laughed but agreed with Spice.

  “I have a few good tops I don’t need.” Angel offered, “And Megan, you have nice slim arms so you can wear a top with short sleeves. What we need is tight around the waist and loosening on the breasts and also a few tops with long sleeves and a deep cleavage for that special occasion.” Angel laughed, enjoying the fun of dressing Megan, and went to get the tops.

  “I have just the jacket,” Sara said, “fitted with a deep V and a skirt with the hem cut to the hip, it will be great with a white top showing a low wide neckline.”

  “I think my skirts might just fit, something in a dark colour, and I have a nice wrap dress that makes the boobs look great,” Angelica said.

  Megan stood as they disappeared and returned. She surrendered to their happy energy. Then she had to model what they brought. The girls were ruthless in discarding that which they thought might not suit. Someone produced a bottle of wine and Housekeeper went with a smile to get some glasses.

  Housekeeper also produced another dressing box, the same as the girls used for their show dresses and wrote Megan’s name on it, “So you can take home your presents from the ladies,” she explained.

  Megan relaxed and joined in the fun and accepted the hoots of laughter and then began to enjoy showing off and all the attention. She had to overcome a further crisis when they insisted she lose the knickers and produced assorted pairs of pants and G-strings for her to wear.

  In the end Sara called a halt, it was time to go and the cars would be waiting. The girls kissed Megan as they left, and Housekeeper could see that they were delighted with her.

  “Put those good clothes away child,” Housekeeper said, “and put your uniform back on. We have to clean up now. Then you can go home. I’ll help you bring your box down to the hall. I noticed you have a suitcase. Where are you staying tonight?”

  Megan was too embarrassed to say she had thought she would be able to stay in Morehampton road until Sonia had told her otherwise. “I’m staying with a cousin in town.” She was delighted that Housekeeper busied herself and did not enquire further.

  When they were finished Housekeeper picked out a set of clothes from the box she had set aside for Megan.

  “Megan child,” she said kindly, “I think you should throw out those Tinker clothes you came in and wear these. You look so much more a lady, and use one of the bra’s Spice gave, Throw that harness you wear in the bin. Make the new clothes a part of your new life. The girls only buy the best quality and you should listen to them. I’m too old for it but you could learn a lot about how to dress and disport yourself.”

  “Yes Housekeeper,” Megan said dutifully.

  “And listen to how I speak,” Housekeeper added, “I learned to lose my country accent and Megan, the way you talk gives you away no matter how well you dress. You don’t want to sound like a Traveller unless you want to be a Traveller of course, so listen to how people speak and practice. Maybe some elocution lessons would be good. I can teach you if you like.”

  “I’d love that,” Megan said simply. Megan had concluded that the house in Morehampton road could be her University of life and she was willing to try anything her betters suggested as long as it was honest and did not involve taking off her clothes in public.

  “Good” Housekeeper said, well pleased. “I said to Cook that you would work out. You have had a good day Megan. Make tomorrow another success and we will continue to get along.”

  Megan decided she could not manage her suitcase and the box of donated clothes so she left the box in a corner in the kitchen for another day. But she changed into her new clothes when the cleaning was finished. She then waited in the hall for Ivan to return from dropping the girls to the club so he could take her into town.

  “Where to?” Ivan asked when he was ready to depart. At this stage it was nearly eleven at night.

  “Drop me in Kildare Street outside the French place the ‘Alliance François,’ I think it is called.” Megan spoke as confidently as she could.

  She had no idea what to do but she did not want Ivan dropping her out on to the side of the road in Tallaght.

  She had a standing arrangement to meet Adizua at eight every evening during her begging, but she was now hours late. If she could make it to Nassau Street for midnight she might pick up Phelan in the van as he collected the other Travellers from their night of begging in town. She’d need a story to explain why she was coming home after all.

  “I know it, bottom of Kildare Street at Nassau Street,” Ivan said and threw her suitcase in the back and opened the door for Megan. “Quite the lady tonight” he remarked admiringly, “I bet Maureen has never seen you dressed like this.”

  Megan smiled but refused to be drawn and they drove in silence to Town.

  “Goodnight,” Megan said as Ivan dropped her off at Kildare Street.

  Then Ivan went up to Molesworth Street and parked. He wanted to see what Megan would do next. He was moved with the appearance of Megan in her new clothes. She would be wonderful in my stable of bitches he mused. Ivan was inclined to view all females against the standard of his dream to someday run a stable of girls.

  Adizua had suggested the ‘Alliance’ as a meeting place to Megan. The French school was always busy right up to past ten at night and Adizua felt safe hanging about where there was movement and lots of foreign students were coming and going. He would meet Megan and they would go to the Squat to sit and talk. Usually Adizua would get a couple of take a way meals and coffees and they would have them in the Squat and talk until it was time for Megan to go and get the lift from Phelan in the van.

  Nassau Street was next to where Megan was dropped off and she could carry her suitcase about a hundred yards to Phelan’s usual pick up point. She had no way of knowing if he would be there as she had made no arrangement and she did not know if others from her halt would be in town that night.

  Megan stood a moment feelin
g wonderful in her new clothes and unsure what to do. She scanned up and down. At this hour there were no students about although the bar of the hotel across the road seemed busy. No sign of Adizua. With a sigh she shifted the heavy case and began to turn towards Nassau Street.

  Then out of the corner of her eye she saw him and stopped. It was Adizua.

  “I went into the Hotel bar and nursed a couple of drinks,” he explained as he came up to her. “I could watch the street in case you came. Then when you came I scarcely recognized you.”

  “Didn’t you?”

  “Megan,” he said, “I must kiss you. I have never seen you so lovely.”

  With that Adizua put his arms around her and brought his lips to her upturned mouth. Her tongue found his lips and pressed inside. With a surge of passion Adizua held her tighter and kissed her passionately.

  They were trembling when they stopped for breath.

  “The girls where I work,” Megan said breathlessly, “they said being dressed this way would make me feel sexy and Adizua I would say this to no one living except your self. They were right, I feel sexy and not ashamed.”

  “You are so young and so beautiful.”

  “I have nowhere to stay,” Megan said, “They won’t let me stay in Morehampton road like I hoped. I have to go home. I have to try and find Phelan or else spend the night in the squat.”

  “Are they expecting you home to the caravan?” Adizua asked.

  “No”

  “Then come home with me,” Adizua said touching her face and looking with eyes full of hope.

  “I can’t sleep with you. I have to marry as a virgin. I am not going to sleep with any man unless he is my husband.”

  “Are you asking me to marry you?” Adizua said with a wicked smile.

  Megan blushed and felt full of confusion. “Definitely not” she said “my dad would kill me for kissing a black man, and never let me marry one.”

  “I offer you my heart,” Adizua said, “I offer you my hopes. I love you Megan. I would defy the world just to be with you.”

  Megan looked up into Adizua’s serious face and knew she was lost, for she loved him too and with every fibre of her being. It was not a choice. It was something that had just happened to her. “I love you,” she whispered.

  They kissed again, this time with more tenderness and with a sense of owning each other. The excitement of the kiss was intense and they could scarcely bear not to touch each other and they held hands while they slowly recovered their composure.

  “I’d better get you up to Nassau street,” Adizua said.

  “Phelan must not see you.” Megan said, “and we should not be kissing in the street.”

  But they were reluctant to go. They stood close and looked into each other’s eyes.

  “You sleep on the floor and I’ll take the bed,” Megan said.

  “Marry me” Adizua said.

  “Yes.” Megan said.

  “I’ll ask your father, the proper way.”

  “You’ll do no such thing. He’d knife you.”

  “What can we do?”

  “Tomorrow is another day.”

  “So it is.” Adizua agreed and picked up her case.

  They set out for his room in James Street.

  Ivan followed with interest at a discreet distance. He was pleased when they arrived. Now he knew where they lived.

  Adizua put the suitcase in the corner of his sparse room. Megan took it all in. Not much furniture and a small gas burner for a stove. The caravan was better equipped, but this place had walls and running water.

  “Toilets are on the landing,” Adizua said as he put on the kettle.

  Megan considered the bed. It was a single bed. Adizua followed her gaze and took her hand.

  “Megan, you are my princess. I will not touch you in this flat except to show you that I love you.”

  “No force and if you hit me I will leave.”

  “I will only beat you on Fridays,” Adizua said joking.

  “Don’t use the buckle of your belt,” Megan said, taking him seriously and she moved close to him.

  Adizua kissed her nose. “Megan not a hair on your head could I strike or harm, I will never beat you, I promise.”

  “I like a strong man.”

  “I’m strong” Adizua said and carried her to the bed.

  “You promised,” Megan said alarmed

  “I know” Adizua said softly, “Not until we are married. That’s O.K. by me. I love you Megan.”

  Adizua turned on his recently acquired portable radio and made two cups of tea.

  “You can come to bed if you don’t try anything,” Megan said after she had considered the cold linoleum on the floor. “I’ll have a separate blanket, I’ve done that sometimes when we had cousins up.”

  “Can I watch you undress?” Adizua asked.

  “Not tonight dear,” Megan said with a blush and began to undress under the blanket, only her head showing. Adizua stripped to his shorts and wrapped himself in the other blanket.

  They sat holding hands and listening to the music until Megan fell asleep. Adizua tenderly stretched her out and laid beside her, listening to her breathing. He was only sure of one thing. He loved Megan more than life. He knew she held his happiness in her determined young hands.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  They sat in a circle around the table in the side lounge, back off right in a separate area from the bar. Samuel and Sonia sat on a couch and Frank and Sara took a double couch sitting close together. Peter found himself next to Frank when he came back from arranging the first round of drinks.

  “Did you come by taxi?” Peter asked his father.

  “Yes,” Samuel replied, “We came from town. Sonia and I had lunch and we did some shopping, then we came on here, took a room, freshened up and had dinner. Altogether a very enjoyable day.” As Samuel spoke Sonia smiled in agreement. She was dying to show Sara her engagement ring, but had agreed with Samuel not to wear it that night, as she needed to give Samuel a chance to talk to Peter about their plans.

  “Do you and Sonia work together?” Peter asked Sara. He had switched the attention to Sara as his way of finding the time to absorb what his father had just said, without openly acknowledging that he had just understood from his father that he intended to spend the night in the hotel with Sonia. Clearly the relationship was advancing fast.

  “I work in the club,” Sara said with a nervous smile. “Sonia is house-manager out on Morehampton road. She is our mother hen.”

  “Club, what sort of club?” Peter enquired.

  “I met Sara there.” Frank intervened. “Sara is a good dancer. Have you been to the Gentlemen’s club in Anne’s Street?”

  “Afraid not. Jane and I. Jane is my wife. Jane and I tend to go out to the tennis club, or else to dine at the golf club in Edmondstown.”

  “Ah, I have played there.” Frank built on Peter’s reply, anxious to avoid any embarrassing conversation around the Lap Dance Club. Sara had warned him to behave and be discreet. “I like the clubhouse. Was it refurbished recently?”

  The bar was filling up and the general noise level rose. Delighted that his son Peter was having a good ‘golf chat’ with Frank, Samuel engaged the two girls in a conversation about soccer, Peters least favourite subject.

  Frank and Peter moved on to discuss schools rugby, having exhausted the golf topic of the moment and Frank adeptly caught the eye of a passing waitress and got in another round. He was delighted he had found common ground with Peter, as he was a bit nervous about his date with Sara. She was even more lovely than he had remembered, but somehow not as tall or as young. Frank wanted to take his time with Sara, they could talk later, for the moment he knew he was pleasing Sara by engaging Peter and keeping the conversation light.

  “My son Darra plays winger for Terenure. He is on the junior cup squad.” Peter was explaining.

  “I was at their last match. Darra?” Your wife’s name isn’t Jane by any chance.”

&n
bsp; “Yes, so you know her?”

  “Well yes. I knew her years ago. I bumped into her in the pub after the match and we said hello. However she was in a bit of a hurry and took the kids away after one drink. I did not get to meet Darra as he was just in the door and Jane spirited them away”

  “Busy is as busy does,” Peter said philosophically. Frank was proving good company and he was able to avoid a too confrontational meeting with his father. He would wait for Jane to arrive. Jane would be better able to assess Sonia.

  “Well actually,” Frank continued, “I actually met Darra on the pitch, he took a knock and I was the sponge man. I just wiped him down and he was O.K. I thought he played well.”

  “Glad to hear it, Darra loves his rugby.”

  “Four children?” Frank continued. Jane had two girls and two boys in tow.”

  “Ah no, only two.” Peter replied. “One of the other two would have been a friend of our little daughter, as Jane would have brought the friend to keep Rebecca our daughter, amused. I expect the other boy was Mark, a sub on the Terenure Team. Was he tall and fair, about Darra’s age?”

  “Yes, silly of me I assumed that they were all Jane’s.” Frank said with a smile.

  “You must have married about sixteen years or more ago, judging from Darra’s age?” he continued.

  “Good guess.” Peter said affably. “But a bit off. Darra is my stepson and Jane had Darra before we married. We met in London about sixteen years ago.”

  “Oh,” Frank said, surprised and taken aback. He covered his confusion by taking a long pull on his pint. Sara caught the move out of the corner of her eye and sensed that something had agitated Frank.

  “Did you say London?” She asked dipping in on the conversation, leaving Samuel to explain the finer points of the back line at Shamrock Rovers to Sonia. Although she liked football, Sara was becoming bored with Samuels’s conversation about the Irish league, preferring to discuss English soccer. While listening to Samuel she had also been ear wigging on Frank’s conversation.