Sordida

by Jason Andrews

  Amercia despised her job, despised that with the skills and capabilities she had to offer an organisation in the hustle and bustle of the real business world, the best she could find was a dreary supermarket in the centre of Plymouth. She was slowly starting to segregate herself from her colleagues, considered now that none were real friends and even her manager Kevin was a jobsworth. Knowing that she was at this current time all but a few hours away from joining Sordida as an escort with a dinner date set for eight with Tim Helman, a day that revolved around bread and dairy was edging closer to a past life. The bus had stopped with a jolt that moved her slightly from her seat a few seconds after she had pressed the bell, this was her stop. As she made her way down the aisle of handbags before heading off the bus, she spoke to the driver.

  “Thank you, driver,” Amercia said in politeness, “cheers.”

  She never really knew or understood why the driver needed thanking, it was a tradition of politeness, but he was getting paid after all, but another day, another short shift over.

  Payday was now a few weeks away, but thanks to the extra money from Sordida already this month as a taster, nearly all her bills were covered, food stocked in the fridge and the biscuit tin converted to a cash savings tin was looking healthier unlike when it was full of ginger nuts at one time. As Amercia made her way to her street, she could see a small crowd of people gathering outside the entrance to her small block of bedsits. People were pointing at something, she couldn’t quite make it out, but it was on the main door. What the actual fuck, she thought, no, fuck no, who would write slag across the door like that? In bright orange spray paint, a large SLAG tag sprayed across the door which spilt over to the walls further making the street look even more of an embarrassment to live here. So very common, she thought, such a shit-hole. A couple of young lads about ten years old were giggling to themselves as Amercia walked towards the door.

  “Hope you’re going to clean that off bitch,” said a young teen mother holding her baby. “We know you are the only slag around here innit.”

  “We’ve heard about you ‘round ‘ere, and we don’t want your fucked-up shit around here you dirty slag,” said an older woman who Amercia recognised as living in one of the bedsits opposite her own, “dirty fucking prostitute, is it cos you are a druggy fucking bastard, you dirty mong.”

  Amercia composed herself, took a deep breath and walked forward towards the uneducated crowd who lived around her. Thinking they’re just the sort that has the daily routines of a morning shop for breakfast cigarettes, followed by an afternoon bitch in each other’s houses, then sit down every evening to watch the soaps on television day in, day out with no chance of escape from their miserable mundane existence.

  “I’m neither a druggy nor a fucking prostitute. Did anyone fucking see who did this or did you all have a go?”

  “We all saw you get in that limo the other night, did you enjoy yourself?” Asked the young mother, “paid for by your dirty fucking pimp was it I expect love?”

  There it is, Amercia thought, they’re fucking envious and think I hang around men with money. Living in this shit hole the only way I can afford anything is either by opening my legs or drugs related. Don’t call me love, bitch!

  “I have very generous friends, not that it’s anyone’s business, but I’ve said I’m no prostitute, so if no one saw this, then get out of my fucking way.”

  “We’re all watching you,” an older woman replied, standing next to the mother and child, “we don’t want any drug pushers in this street love, you got that.”

  “There are no drugs; I can assure you. I’ll clean this off with some old rag in a moment, but I have no association with drug dealers. Fucking trust me.”

  “No one saw who did this,” the older woman replied, “we just fucking know it wasn’t there this morning. A lot of shit goes on in this street, and we don’t need you drawing any attention from the police.”

  Amercia brushed through the small gathering, turned to glance at the children who seemed to be laughing at her, opened the main door and walked straight to her bedsit. With the small enclose of living space being her only residence, it was right now a haven from the disputes of the single parents and unemployed that lurked in this street. Dealing with the neighbours was one thing, but who would go out of their way to spray that on her door was beyond her. Thinking about it logically, she knew it couldn’t have been her neighbours within the bedsit as anyone would have access inside the building to spray her room door instead. It wasn’t there when she left to go to work this morning, and the women outside suggested it appeared within the last couple of hours while she was at work. The only person she had fallen out with recently was Jake Parker, but he couldn’t have done it since he didn’t know where she lived; with the handful of occasions that she met him it was at locations of his choosing.

  While gathering a bucket of soapy water and a few rags, Amercia concluded that the answer must lie with the woman who mentioned the limousine; it might have been a personal attack against thinking she was associated with drug dealers or had more money than she let on. With a street on the breadline and neighbours without much intellect, she convinced herself it was jealousy. As she scrubbed the SLAG tag from the door, it was fading quite quickly, but removing it all was going to be a gruelling effort. The curtains twitching from different directions didn’t distract her efforts. She wasn’t easily intimidated.

  Two hours later with the main door now fully gleaming, likely the first decent clean it’s had in years except for the splash of rainfall when nature called, Amercia had succeeded to remove the SLAG tag. Rewarding her hard efforts with a cold can of diet cola, she had rummaged through her entire single wardrobe to consider what to wear to her dinner with Tim Helman this evening. Going for a more subtle look than a sex-driven escort, Amercia opted for a long navy-blue dress to go with the black designer shoes Tim had gifted her for her first experience at Sordida. For the first time, she decided tonight would be wig-free, her natural look should suffice. I should look like the dogs-bollocks, she thought to herself, I’ll try to be on my best behaviour, think sexy and business minded. I want to make sure he knows what he’s missing if he doesn’t agree to hire me.

  As her clothes lay strewn across the bed, perfectly ironed in place for her to get dressed later, Amercia sprawled herself across the sofa, took a quick glance at the wine-stained floor and thought to herself, this poky dump is cleaner than it was but needs a good spring clean.

  Her laptop was still on the floor charging by the plug sockets, the television was showing a tacky sit-com on repeat, but it was background noise to her thoughts as she wondered about her despicable neighbours. Convinced that someone within the street had somehow seen her escorting profile, she grabbed her laptop, returned to the sofa and loaded up the website where she was looking for business. I know I’m going to end up better off focussed solely on Sordida, she thought to herself as she considered hitting the delete profile button, ah shit forgot about him.

  The upcoming arranged meeting at the theatre with a new client had completely slipped her mind in her sheer determination to get a call back from Tim Helman. She saw a new message indicator from Roy and thought she better respond. Looking at his message twice to take it all in, he was expressing his excitement at meeting her for a real girlfriend experience. He suggested a meal to start with, watching a show at the theatre together, then back to the hotel. Her only issue was that now he had sent more pictures to her message inbox was that he was old. The first picture he had posted depicted a guy in his sixties who looked like he took care of himself, but now a full body image was posted, she felt quite saddened that for him to get a girlfriend experience, he would have to pay for it. Ageing, unattractive, letting himself go a little wasn’t great potential.

  With the savings in the biscuit tin on her mind, it wouldn’t be wise to cancel Roy. A meal out in town and the theatre sounded a great evening in his company, but the hotel part was off limits
. Imagining that he had a stubby little cock, she thought he was probably not well groomed either with scabby darkened skin on his thighs from looking at the images. Now at the point of feeling a little sick at the thought of any sexual contact with this man, paid or otherwise, she replied with a simple message about her rates for just a few hours as personal company time only. At least he took the bait; she thought, life might be somewhat different soon if I can hurry up and get my sexy ass in Sordida. Amercia closed the laptop lid, returned it to the floor and decided now was just as good as any time to take a shower before the gruelling task of applying a shit load of makeup and getting dressed.

  Having an eye for cheap clothing that looked more expensive than it was, was a gift. Imitating designer looks and well-dressed celebrity styles wasn’t a challenge if you knew all the right stores online selling old stock for a fiver here and there, Tim Helman hopefully wouldn’t notice the poor-quality stitching in her clothes. She switched off the television with the remote, the sound of silence soon lost in the voices of her neighbours who she could hear gossiping in the hallway. Thinking that they were most likely talking about her, Amercia thought, fuck the bitches, and removed her clothing ready to step into the shower. As soon as she was guaranteed work with Sordida, she planned to delete her online presence in the escort website and cam sex models. Nothing was paying off as much as she had hoped, but without Jake Parker, she might never have had the opportunity to know such a well-paid club for sexual fetishes existed. Although he might now have gone for good with his weird mood swings and outrage, he did at least lead her to a potential well-paid opportunity. She was thankful for that alone.

  Thirteen

  T

  im Helman was stood by the entrance to the Helman House Hotel as Amercia pulled up in a complimentary chauffeur driven taxi arranged by him as part of his meeting tonight to discuss the full arrangements for joining Sordida as an escort. Amercia stepped out of the luxury vehicle in the long flowing navy dress for the occasion she had previously chosen with a smile that looked like the cat who had got the cream. The build-up to this moment has taken its toll on her mentally over the past couple of days; the neighbours who noticed her deluxe method of transport sparked a flurry of gossip in the council estate once again. She was expecting more abuse.

  “How do you like the S-Class Merc?” Asked Tim as he had locked eyes on Amercia stepping out of his company’s luxury car, “was it a smooth ride, it’s our newest model?”

  “Not that bad at all, Tim. The driver kept me entertained; he’s a blast.”

  “That’s John, he is renowned for his humour, my staff are trustworthy, and anything said or seen is discreet as you may already be aware.”

  Amercia walked towards Tim who held out his arm for her to grab.

  “I do hope you’re hungry? Matt, my waiter for this evening, is awaiting us in my private room.”

  With their arms linked after he waved goodbye to John, the driver, Tim led Amercia past the lobby; she glanced at the bar as they headed past the main dining room and then forwards into a hallway.

  “It’s not room two-three-two is it? I’m not up for being locked in again.”

  Tim smiled at her, shaking his head while squeezing on to her hand more tightly.

  “It’s not that room, don’t panic, but for your information room, two-three-two is one of the most rebooked here. Trust me; I have a private little room down the hallway where I can manage my business meetings or have dinner service out of the way of the guests. I am excited to welcome you into Sordida, but I need to be out of earshot of some of my staff. Tonight, this for both of us is just dinner.”

  “But I thought you said anything said or seen is discreet from your staff? I guess not all of them?”

  Tim nodded at her, raising his eyebrows and smiling.

  “Some of the newer staff here are employed only to work in the hotel, while some of the waiters and cleaners have additional duties some might say politely. You are a bit of a detective, aren’t you?”

  “Or an eye for detail you mean, Tim. Let’s see what meat you have to offer here. I’m starving.”

  He led her into his private room at the end of the hallway near a fire exit. Amercia clocked the door and the bar to push for an escape route. In the small room which resembled a study in a stately home with a multitude of ancient looking books on shelves, a desk, a glass dining table was the centrepiece in the room, candlelit with gleaming white dinner service sets well-presented and napkins folded into small swans. Amercia placed a hand on her chest as she was taken back a little over the decadence. It appeared like a romantic dinner for two, she was thrilled.

  “Take a seat; there’s plenty on the menu tonight. You look divine by the way. I’ll never forget that silver backless dress you wore when I first met you here, nor that attitude. You’re very special.”

  Amercia sat down; he’s taking the bait, she thought, he’s a crap flirt. She grabbed her napkin before spotting the menu. Tim walked to the other side of the table to sit and proceed to do the same.

  “What are you having?” Amercia asked, “Is the vegetable lasagne cooked from scratch or one of those microwave jobbies that come pre-packed in most other places?”

  Tim laughed at her.

  “We’re not like most other places; I thought you’d have guessed that already. No, we cook everything from scratch, so you’ll enjoy it more I’m sure, but I’m contemplating the gnocchi with cheese, tomatoes, basil and even the garlic bread.”

  “So many choices, you’re right, but I’ll stick with the lasagne. You have a great hotel, you’ve done a grand job with it. I could never afford to stay here for more than a day or so. Do you get guests that stay for long periods of time?”

  “You are a detective, aren’t you? Yes, I have guests from within the local area of Devon, far across the United Kingdom, and others from many places in Europe. An average number of days booked is two mostly across weekends, but you can get a certain few who stay for weeks on end, and they can be your worst nightmare.”

  “How so? Is it because they keep coming back and treat it like their home?”

  “No, Amercia, It’s because of the money they spend, they think the staff here are all their slaves.”

  Just as Amercia was about to respond, Matt the waiter came into the room. Her eyes lit up as it was the same waiter who served her drinks on her last visit to the hotel in the bar.

  “Good evening are you both ready to order?”

  Amercia glanced at Matt’s eyes; he looked back at her giving a wink.

  “Yes,” Tim replied, “I’ll have the tomato and basil gnocchi with garlic bread, and the lady will have the vegetarian lasagne.”

  “Would you like either of those with salad, chips or both - and would you both like something to drink with your meal?

  “I’ll have a salad with the lasagne,” Amercia responded while looking over his muscles dreamily, “I’d like a rum and diet cola too.”

  “Small chips and vodka with lemonade and lime for me,” Tim replied, “could you also close the door behind you on the way out.”

  “Coming right up. I’ll knock on the door when I arrive with your food and drink. I will try not to forget the straws.”

  Matt smiled at Amercia on the way out closing the door behind him, she glanced in his direction, but his mannerisms seemed more professional naturally in front of his boss. He acknowledged her glancing looks but was not as flirty with her compared to last time.

  “What was that all about,” Tim asked, “something I should know?”

  “He remembered me from last time I think; I am very particular with my straws. I haven’t fucked him if that’s what you’re getting at though.”

  “It’s none of my business if you had but thank you for your honesty as always. Now let’s get back to business.”

  Amercia nodded, her throat felt dry as she had an instant pang of nerves.

  “I’m all ears,” Amercia said, concentra
ting on his reactions, “you know how badly I want this?”

  “I agree that you will be an asset to Sordida. I want you on my team.”

  Amercia beamed a smile that cemented his instincts; she needed the extra money so urgently with a need for a more lavish lifestyle the club could offer her.

  “What are your terms because you mentioned on the phone that there were things we could iron out, for me, I understand it’s an as-and-when position surely?”

  “It’s more complicated than that from an employer perspective. I have two options, and that is to put you on the hotel payroll and keep you on the books as you say, as-and-when, making payments when necessary with tax and national insurance deductions monthly.”

  “Or what else,” Amercia butted in, “I have a part-time job already, a second one will hit a higher rate of tax deductions.”

  “The alternative option is that like many other escorts at Sordida we use regularly, you have to invoice me for your payment on a self-employed basis. It then becomes your responsibility to declare this income to the tax office at the end of the year with your other earnings. I will put this down as our entertainment cost-centre codes, but the club takes back twenty per cent commission for extra income you may receive at the club in any form. Sordida’s guest list can be somewhat very generous, and the cost of putting on such entertainment can be expensive. Think of this method as an agent who is taking a commission on finding you work.”

  “I prefer the self-employed method; it feels more in my control,”

  Amercia in her mind tried to calculate tax percentages with her accountancy knowledge of taxation procedures.

  “You know I can do this; I want to make us both a lot of money, well, more money than I currently have now anyway.”

  “I will need you to sign a services contract; it states that you get paid for your time under entertainment services to members of the club. Additionally, it will detail taking twenty per cent commission from extra money that you earn, tips, and any other time charged separately by members for any other services. By any other services, I mean absolutely anything. Keep in mind that this for me is a business.”