I run my fingers through Mickey’s short brown hair. It doesn’t wake him. I’ve been doing it intermittently for the last couple of hours while I’ve been watching him sleep. He looks like a roman statue with his straight nose, sharp jaw line, and his toned body. It’s not strange that I find it easier to touch him when he doesn’t know I’m doing it. There’s no danger of a response.
In my head, I’d love to be his girlfriend. He’s completely different from every man I’ve ever known. No man before him has treated me with the consideration and compassion he’s shown. Lorna must have been lying or exaggerating when she said he was dangerous. He doesn’t seem dangerous to me. But even if she did make it up and he is genuine, I don’t do relationships. Working as a call girl, it doesn’t go with the job. And even though I’m not working at the moment, fear explodes in my stomach at the thought of being with a man in that way. Men aren’t to be trusted. They all cheat and lie.
I couldn’t bring myself to trust the last boyfriend I had a few years ago. There was something blocking it. I think it was my intuition, but I didn’t trust that either. I didn’t realise how damaging the relationship with Pete was until I got completely honest with Dr Fielding about what was really going on. He was violent but I didn’t think it was that bad. He never actually left a mark. Well once, he did on the top of my arm, but I’d made him angry. I accused him of being with another woman. When we split up, I found out that he was in fact sleeping with her. I was right all along but he’d made me think it was all in my head – my insecurities because I was a hooker, because my father left us, because I’d been abused. When I used to have flashbacks during sex, he’d get angry and shout at me, “If you can do it with your punters, you can do it with me.” I felt I had to perform. I used to fuck him like I’d fuck a client. I hated it. Every time we had sex, I felt unclean and used, like I’d done a job and not been paid. I started sleeping on the sofa in the lounge to avoid being in bed with him. Maybe that’s why he was sleeping with the other girl. After he’d gone, when my annual statement arrived from the Nationwide, I discovered he’d withdrawn thousands from my savings account. There was nothing I could do. He knew I couldn’t go to the police. Money’s the reason men want to be with a call girl. Like Angel said, if a man really loves you, he doesn’t want you sleeping with other men.
Mickey’s snoring again. I don’t bother telling him to stop. I can’t sleep with the constant stream of thoughts. I return to stroking his hair. He’s a beautiful man. He’s far more handsome than Pete. He’s a lovely distraction. Rather than going over my past with Pete, I imagine the future with Mickey. I picture us walking hand-in-hand in a park, along the shoreline, on the promenade of Manly Beach. In a gothic church, I’m walking down the aisle. I’m standing next to him at the altar. I lift my veil and meet his lightest of light blue eyes with mine.
I shouldn’t let myself dream like this. Although he doesn’t know I’m a call girl, he does think I have a large inheritance. He could be with me for my money. He has been paying his share for the smack so far, and that’s a good sign, but it has only been a couple of days. I’ll need to see if he keeps it up. Not that I think I could get attached, but if I could get attached to a man, he’d be the one.