The Story Collection: Volume One

by Matt Shaw

  Leon had always kept her drugs manageable for her. All she had to do was tip the silver wrapper onto the bathroom’s worktop and easily shape it into a long line before snorting it up a nostril. She never had to crunch it down into an ‘easy-to-snort’ powder. Leon had always done that for her, it gave her less time to think about what she was doing. If it’s easy just to pour and take, then there was less chance of her coming to her senses and arguing with him that she didn’t need to take anything.

  She shut her eyes and put her head close to the line, hesitating briefly, before holding one of her nostrils shut and sniffing hard through a crisp twenty pound note that she had rolled from the stash that she just earned. It doesn’t take long before the line is gone and all traces have been wiped from the surface. It never takes long. She brings her head up fast and gives it a jerk backwards as though it helps the cocaine work its way through her system faster. She kept her eyes closed and waited. It won’t take long for the complete feeling of euphoria to shudder through her body.

  “I told you it helps.”

  She opened her eyes and jumped – she was the only one in the bathroom and yet Leon stood next to her in the mirror’s reflection. She looked at him in horror as small bubbles of blood pop out of the deep wound in his neck as they slowly try and coagulate.

  In the reflection he put his hand on her shoulder, “I told you it helps,” he said again with a haunting voice.

  “You aren’t here. You can’t be here,” she said. She closed her eyes and ignored him. He wasn’t there. She was right. Ignore him and he will simply go back into her subconscious. Forget about him. Concentrate on the task at hand. Concentrate on what needs to be done. Concentrate on the effects of the drug. It’s nice. She felt the dripping sensation at the back of her throat and confidence levels boost; pleasant feelings. She felt the numbness.

  ‘Concentrate.’

  * * * * *

  “I’ll make all your bookings. You keep this phone on you at all times, if we aren’t together, so I can reach you – we can not afford to miss any appointments. As long as you listen to me, I’ll keep you safe. I’ll watch out for you. I promise you, though, you fuck with me…” Leon smiled at her and changed the conversation, “I got you this, I think you’ll find it will be of use.” He handed Kim a small wrap of cocaine; the first of many. “Remember,” he continued, “You’re doing this for your mum.”

  As Kim walked down the hotel corridor, having left ‘John’ sleeping like a little baby, she couldn’t help but think back to what Leon had said to her when all of this began. She couldn’t help but think of the drugs that were given to her to help her go through with what was asked of her and, more importantly, she couldn’t believe that it all started with her mother. Everything he had made her do – he said it was all for her mother and what had it got any of them? Her mother, Jackie, was dead, Leon was dead and Kim believed that she may have well been dead. She knew that if they caught up with her – her life wouldn’t be worth living and, as she crossed the hotel lobby avoiding the suspicious gazes of hotel management, she just kept thinking to herself, ‘One more night and it will all be over.’

  So far that day she had seen four customers. Three of them paid. She couldn’t take Kirk’s money as it didn’t feel right. He didn’t even want to have intercourse with her – something that she didn’t understand. From the three customers that did pay, she was rewarded with three hundred and sixty pounds; to some people a lot of money. To Kim it was nowhere near enough.

  Kim stopped in the lobby of the hotel long enough to glance over to the row of clocks that lined the walls behind the reception desk. The clock showing the London time had already struck midnight.

  “May I help you, ma’am?” asked what must have been the hotel manager as he looked down his nose at Kim causing her to feel even more shame than she was already feeling. There was a time when Kim herself, looked down her nose at the type of person she had become.

  “No, thank you.” She looked to the floor and as she stepped into the cold winter’s night – she knew time was running out. She had a maximum of five hours to see as many clients as possible and get out of town. Any longer than that and she ran the risk of being caught.

  2

  KIM HAD CALLED KIRK FOR HELP. She asked him to come to the hospital and pick her up. She had also asked him if she could come back to his place when she told him that she couldn’t go to her own home. Kirk didn’t understand why, after asking him for his help and hospitality, she kept looking at the clock that sat on the mantelpiece next to an old photo frame that had been turned around so that the picture within faced the wall. It was nearly 3:00am.

  “Is there somewhere you need to be?” asked Kirk as he sat opposite to where Kim had painfully sat down. “Did you want to call someone to let them know you are here?”

  Kim didn’t reply. She just sat there, in his cramped lounge, staring at the clock on the mantelpiece until, after what seemed an eternity of silence, “Is that the correct time?”

  Kirk checked his watch, “Yes.” He asked again, “Did you need to call someone?”

  “I don’t have anyone to call. Thank you for collecting me and bringing me back here.” She was slow in her speech and looked dazed. Kirk wondered whether the hospital had actually discharged her or whether she had just left by her own choice.

  “Not a problem,” he didn’t bother asking whether she was discharged or not. There was no point – if she wasn’t officially discharged he somehow doubted that she would bother telling him the truth anyway. “Can I get you anything?”

  “May I have a cup of tea?” said Kim, finally taking her eyes from the ticking clock that seemed to be counting down the minutes of her life.

  “I’m sorry; I don’t have any tea bags. I’m not a tea drinker. Can I get you anything else?”

  “Coffee?”

  Kirk shifts uneasily on the armchair. He doesn’t have any coffee, “I’m not a coffee drinker.”

  “Do you have anything stronger like alcohol?”

  “Not in the house,” he laughs nervously.

  “If I hung around earlier today, what were you going to offer me?” asks Kim.

  He thinks for a split second before, “I think I have some orange squash.” Kirk doesn’t wait for an answer – too embarrassed by how ill-prepared he is for social interaction and leaves the room to get a glass of orange.

  Kim shifts her weight uneasily in the chair, trying to get comfortable on her bruises, and casts an eye around the room wondering whether she would be found here. The curtains are closed, as they were earlier in the day, so people couldn’t look in and the lounge had the look of a room that didn’t see too many visitors. A thick layer of dust lined the sides and shelves, the chocolate brown carpet, although not messy, didn’t look as though it was cleaned very often. A pile of DVDs littered the floor in front of the television space – some of the films looking as though they were homemade videos of some sorts. Scattered around the walls were pictures of Kirk and another woman.

  “You’re in luck, I did have a little bit of squash left,” said Kirk as he came back into the room carrying a wine glass filled with orange. “I’m sorry; I didn’t have any normal glasses but if you need any more juice, just ask.” He handed her the glass.

  “Thank you.”

  “Were you hungry?” he asks as he sits down again.

  “I’m okay, thank you.”

  “How are you feeling now?”

  “Better,” she said truthfully. She had a funny feeling that, outside of this house, there were problems that she had to run from but, inside the house, she was safe. She felt safe with Kirk. He hadn’t wanted to try having sex with her during her earlier visit. He wasn’t like the other men who had booked her - perhaps because of their previous relationship all those years before.

  Kim hadn’t recognised Kirk earlier in the afternoon when she had visited him, after receiving a phone call asking for an appointment. She hadn’t recognised the voice on the other en
d of the phone as a voice that she had grown up with. She barely even recognised Kirk when he explained how he knew her.

  If it wasn’t for his watch she wouldn’t have cared who he said he was either but – the watch – it was all too close to home and she couldn’t go through with the appointment, even if it was going to be an easy session because he had booked her for company only and not the act of sex itself. She had needed the money, desperately, but couldn’t bring herself to stay with him – talking about how great she looked and asking how her mother was. She had to distance herself from anybody who knew what she was like when she was younger. She had to distance herself from anyone who knew her before she was a whore. Her shame was too great.

  “So how have you been?” asked Kirk, still unsure of what to do or say to comfort Kim. He knew ‘how have you been’ was a stupid question given the circumstances but he didn’t have anything else to say.

  “How have I been?” replied Kim with a slight laugh in her tone of voice. She also knew ‘how have you been’ was a stupid question given the circumstances and she felt sure he could do better, “You don’t really comfort a lot of people, do you?”

  “I don’t get out much,” he smiled taking full advantage of the laugh he accidentally gave Kim. “If you have any pointers as to what I’m supposed to do, I’ll be pretty grateful right about now.”

  She smiled at him, “I’m sorry this is pretty new to me too.”

  The smiles slowly faded from both of their faces as they realise that neither one of them was lying – they really didn’t know what to do or say.

  “Did the doctors give you any painkillers, or anything?” asked Kirk finally, “I have lots in the bathroom if you need any.”

  “I’m okay, thank you. I’m just a little tired.”

  “I’m sorry; I’ll get you a duvet and pillow. Leave you to it.” Kirk stood up to leave the room.

  “Please don’t,” said Kim, “I don’t want to be alone right now.” She knew that if she were left alone she wouldn’t sleep. She wouldn’t be able to sleep. She knew that Leon would be back in the reflections.

  “Okay,” said Kirk as he sat back down.

  After another brief spell of awkward silence Kim asked, “Why did you book me earlier if you didn’t want to have sex with me?”

  Kirk shifted uneasily in his chair, uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed, “The advert said you provided companionship.”

  “I have an advert?” asked Kim. She wondered what else Leon had set up for her. She knew of her website but she knew nothing of any other adverts, “Where is this advert?”

  Again Kirk shifted in his chair and avoided her line of sight as best as he could in the small lounge, “Erm, a magazine.” Kim didn’t press him further. She didn’t need to.

  “And you really didn’t want to have sex with me?” The last thing Kim wanted was sex but, from all the men she had been forced to see, she couldn’t believe that one of them was so sensitive that all he wanted was a little bit of company.

  “I get lonely,” said Kirk with a tone of voice more suited to a scared little boy.

  Through her obvious pain Kim couldn’t help but feel a little bit sorry for him as she wondered what sort of man would be so lonely that he felt the need to pay for a little bit of company, “Don’t you have any friends that you could call if you were lonely?”

  Kirk smiled a nervous smile, “I don’t get out much.”

  Kim turned her attention back to the photos that hung around the room, “Is that your wife?”

  “Was,” answered Kirk abruptly, his smile vanishing from his face within an instant. When Jackie, Kim’s mum, first introduced him to Kim – he had liked her straight away but he loved Tracy. He didn’t feel comfortable with anyone talking about her. Tracy was his and he didn’t want to share her with anyone.

  With the sudden character change, Kim knew she had hit a raw nerve and offered up an apology, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  “Its fine,” said Kirk before trying to change the subject, “listen did you want a bath or anything? It might help take away some of the aches and pains.”

  “Maybe a little bit later, thank you.” Kim wasn’t in a hurry now. There was no point in her trying to get out and raise more money. Even if she felt good, and safe, enough to walk the streets for more clients – she knew that she had run out of time. She had already decided that it would be a good idea to try and lay low with Kirk for as long as he permitted her to and then, when she felt well enough, she would try and make a run for it with the money she had managed to get together. When Kirk said that the lady in the picture was his wife, Kim felt a wave of relief rush through her body. If the lady was still his wife it would have undoubtedly meant that she couldn’t stay there for too long in case the wife was due to return. She smiled at Kirk hoping to take some of the newly-created tension from the room.

  * * * * *

  “I love you more today than I have ever loved you before and tomorrow I will love you even more than I love you today,” Kirk shook his head, “it sounds too gushy. It sounds too phoney.” He cleared his throat, “Okay, erm, how about, look Tracy we’ve been together for two years now and I can honestly say they’ve been the happiest two years of my life… Jesus – why is this so hard?” He was stood in front of the bathroom mirror in the posh restaurant where he had invited Tracy to meet him. Other than the fact that he was going to propose to her that night, it wasn’t a special occasion – she just thought he was being soppy when he phoned her up, out of the blue, and asked if she fancied a meal out so that she didn’t have to cook anything when she got in from work. Tracy had called him on his mobile; an emergency had cropped up at work and she was running a little late. Kirk didn’t mind, it gave him time to try and prepare himself. He believed you only propose to someone once in your life and he didn’t want to make a hash of it.

  The hand-dryer by the bathroom door hums into life as another older gentleman dries his hands – watching Kirk practise his speech.

  “You know, when I proposed to my wife, once I got the ring out she was so focused on the diamond that she didn’t hear a goddamn word I said!” said the stranger with a polite smile. “Maybe you don’t need a grand speech, keep it simple. Just a thought but you do what you feel comfortable with.”

  Kirk looked at the man via the mirror’s reflection, “She can’t remember what you said?”

  “Other than the fact I had asked her to marry me. No.”

  Kirk thought for a while before holding the ring out in front of him, “Will you marry me?” He smiled, “I guess there is less chance of fluffing my lines too.”

  “What’s her name?” asked the stranger as he walked over to admire the ring.

  “Tracy.”

  “Well, I wish you both the best of luck.” He nodded a nod of approval to the ring and gave Kirk a friendly pat on the shoulder, “Just don’t forget to get down on one knee – but I wouldn’t practise that in here.” He smiled and walked towards the door, “I’ll keep an eye out for the moment before sending over a bottle.”

  “Thank you.”

  The old man gave a final wave of his hand and walked from the bathroom. Kirk turned his attention back to his reflection and, again, held the ring up – “Tracy, will you marry me? Tracy, will you marry me? Tracy, will you marry me? Tracy, will you marry me?”

  Another voice spoke out from behind a locked cubicle, “I’d try doing the whole sentence neutral…”

  Kirk froze – his cheeks glowing red as another wave of embarrassment rushed through his body. Quietly he put the ring back into his jacket pocket and crept from the room.

  By the time he had finished ‘practising’ his grand gesture to a room full of strangers Tracy had arrived and was waiting at the front of the restaurant. She waved over to Kirk when she spotted him and he stopped in his tracks. It was apparent from the way she was dressed that there wasn’t a work emergency to blame for her lateness. She had been home to change. Store
workers don’t tend to wear long, flowing, backless satin dresses to work. The dress was a deep green colour that perfectly matched her unusually-bright green eyes. She wore matching high heels and clutched a matching purse close to her side. With her long, shining brunette hair she was a vision of pure beauty. Kirk’s heart skipped a beat as she approached him.

  “You look beautiful,” he said half-stammering his words.

  She smiled at him, he wasn’t normally the sort of person that dished out compliments so freely, “Just remember that when the credit card bill comes in.”