Amber by Heather Burnside (great novels of all time .TXT) 📗

when her phone rang. It was a client, called George, who wanted her to meet him in a hotel room. She was relieved; the client wanted to book her for the night, and it would save her having to stand out in the cold touting for customers. She had no doubt that Angie would get the money from elsewhere, probably from old Tom.

‘Right, I’m off,’ she said, downing her drink and dashing out of the door without even saying goodbye to either of them.

*

October 2015

An hour later Amber was in a hotel room with George. They were both sitting on a double bed in their underwear getting high on cocaine. She welcomed nights like tonight when she could numb herself both to what she did for a living and to all her other troubles. A bonus was that she didn’t have to buy the coke; the client supplied it as well as paying for her services.

George was OK as clients went, and he seemed in the mood to party. He was an older man, possibly in his early forties, above average height, medium build and balding. But what was most noticeable about him was that he had kind eyes and a friendly smile. To Amber those characteristics were more important than any other as they enabled her to relax a little while she was in his company.

‘Come on, let’s get started,’ he said when he was ready to switch from polite chatter and drug taking to the real reason for the meet-up.

He twisted around and slipped his hand under the back of her bra, deftly unfastening it. ‘Take your knickers off,’ he ordered then he removed his own underwear, slid on a condom and climbed on top of her.

‘Wait a minute,’ said Amber, sensing that this was going to be quick and handing him a tube of lube.

He grabbed the tube and squirted it unceremoniously around her genitals. ‘You’re a good girl, aren’t you?’

As soon as he said those words, Amber’s memory went back to fifteen years ago. She was twelve and pinned to the bed by a brute of a man who couldn’t wait to have his way with her.

‘You’re a good girl,’ were the words he had chosen as he’d entered her, and the pain had shot through her insides.

She tensed, trying to blank out the ordeal that she had experienced as a twelve-year-old child. Feeling his presence. The rapid thrusting inside her. His hands grasping her breasts. And his lips slopping all over her face.

‘Well, aren’t you gonna give me something back, love? I feel like I’m flogging a dead horse,’ said George.

Amber tried to focus, thrusting her loins in time with his and letting out tiny fake yelps of pleasure. She knew many clients laboured under the assumption that the girls enjoyed what they were doing to them and, like many of her friends, she was willing to satisfy their illusions.

Any minute now and it would be finished. Please, let it be over soon, her mind screamed while her mouth muttered, ‘Ooh’ and ‘Aah’.

George let out a mighty groan and withdrew, flinging himself onto his back to the side of her and panting heavily. Amber tried not to wince as she felt his sweat on her stomach and the stickiness of the lube between her thighs.

‘Good idea with the lube,’ he commented while his eyes remained fixed on the ceiling. ‘You are a good girl.’

Amber’s control went. She could no longer pretend. That childhood memory was still so vivid in her mind. And there was no way she could stand a repeat performance in the morning, not when her brain associated this man with what had happened to her back then. She shot up off the bed, grabbed her clothes and quickly dressed.

‘What the bloody hell? Where d’you think you’re going? I’ve booked you for the night,’ said George. ‘And don’t forget, I haven’t paid you yet.’

Amber eyed him cautiously while she finished dressing. Not until she was ready to go did she speak. ‘Forget it. I’m done. And you can stick your money where the sun don’t shine.’

She dashed through the door and down the hotel corridor, eager to distance herself from this man as much as she could. But no matter how hard she ran, she would never rid herself of the childhood memories that kept resurfacing when she least expected them.

24

April 1999

It was Amy and Nathan’s third day at their grandparents’. Amy didn’t quite know how they’d ended up there seeing as how they and her mother didn’t get along. She presumed Mrs Wiley or one of the other neighbours must have rung them because she and Nathan had spent some time with her after their mother had been taken away in the ambulance. Then, later, her grandparents had come to pick them up.

Amy and Nathan’s grandparents had told them that their mother was out of hospital but that it would be a few days until she was feeling better. The children were therefore staying with them in the meantime.

Being with her grandparents had seemed weird at first. It had been so long since she’d seen them because of the falling-out with her mother. They were strict compared to her mother but not in a bad way. It was more in a caring way, like making sure they weren’t left in the house alone and asking where they were going and what time they’d be back if they wanted to go outside.

Amy had been so used to her freedom that the change took some getting used to and, despite the drawbacks of her home life, she did miss the familiarity of it. Although she had a room to herself just like she did at home, it wasn’t the same as her own bedroom, which was full of her personal possessions: presents from Dale and knick-knacks she’d collected over the years.

She also missed her mother. She wasn’t perfect but Amy still felt more relaxed with her than she did with her