Finally, he drops his hand, meeting my gaze again. “What wasn’t?”
“To look after me. You’re not that much older, you know.”
“Sure,” he says, his voice swinging hard into teasing mode. “Girl hits eighteen and think she runs the world. Typical.”
“I can work at a part-time job, just not the one I have right now.”
“Fine.You’re allowed a job if it doesn’t interfere with your schoolwork.” He turns in a semi-circle, hands on hips. “Bring in enough and we might think about moving out of this dump. It looks even worse when I’m sober. Now go quit.”
“No, not tonight,”Robyn snaps when I hand in my notice. It’s already five and I’m due on stage in an hour for my first set.
“Yes, tonight.” I raise myself up to my full five foot two inches and look her square in the eye. “You’ll need to call someone in last minute because I’m not going on that stage.”
Any regrets I might have harboured about leaving her in the lurch disappear as her glare heats another ten degrees. There’s also a sense of relief underpinning it. She’s now so angry about needing to hustle to replace me, there’s no chance of me ever changing my mind.
Robyn holds a grudge like nobody’s business, and it’ll be a cold day in hell before she forgets I cost her time and effort. As an insurance policy against future spinelessness, it’s iron clad.
“I took a chance on you, and this is how you repay me?”
There are a multitude of things I could say but I’m so grateful this is the last time I have to step foot in this place, all my irritation burns away in a giddy rush. “Yes. This is how I’m repaying you. I’ll clean out my locker.”
“Fifty bucks for access to clean out your locker. You’re not an employee here any longer, remember?”
She clicks her fingers, holding out her hand and I just laugh and shake my head. If someone wants my spare five-for-ten-dollars pack of knickers, and an ocean of detritus I’ve been too poor to feel comfortable throwing away, they’re welcome to it. I can’t think of a single thing in there I’ll actually miss or need.
“Fair enough.”
Robyn’s face relaxes, then tightens again as I turn on my heel and head for the door. It’s like a weight cascades off my shoulders while I make the walk. By the time I reach the exit door and slam my hands on the release bar, I practically float from the place.
As I leave, I check the side alley out of habit, seeing nothing more than a stray cat who instantly tenses when it sees me looking, stares with increasing aggression for two seconds, then bolts up the wall and down the other side.
“Me, too,” I say, laughing as I hitch my bag farther up my shoulder. According to my phone, the next bus is just a couple of minutes away, so I hustle to the stop, nodding to the elderly man already waiting there.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickle and I turn, eyes narrowed as I try to find the source, not having any more luck than every other time I’ve tried.
I remember when I began working there, earning real money for the first time. It gave me breathing room when I needed it, even a sense of belonging as I chatted with the girls in the changing room.
Then the dark underbelly showed itself, growing larger with every passing month. The special requests that weren’t requests but demands, the bouncers taking bribes to turn the other way. I hadn’t realised that while I was assessing the regulars and learning their patterns, they were doing the same thing to me. Spotting my weaknesses so they could use it to their advantage. Graduating me from the stage to the private rooms to the outside functions with the pressure steadily increasing at every turn.
Not that I’ve done a private function in a long time. I might be poor but at least on that front I quickly grew a backbone.
The bus arrives and I wave the elderly gentleman on first, then swipe my card, finding a double seat to myself near the rear door. As we depart from the stop, that awful sensation of being watched disappears and I wriggle in the seat, finally comfortable.
Hopefully, it’s the last time I ever feel those chilly fingers creeping up my spine.
When I dismount, sunlight still floods from overhead; evening just doesn’t mean the same in early autumn as it does in midwinter. There’s a boy dressed as a monster-hunter out the front of the flat, bare feet stomping through the tangled knee-high grass, as he brandishes a long stick as a sword.
“You’re still here?” Larry asks, coming out of the flat one along from ours as I punch in the code for our back door. “Thought you moved.”
“Just stayed somewhere else for a few weeks while Ant was down south.” When Larry continues to stare as though he’s owed something, I check, “We’re good on rent, yeah?”
“Until next week.” He broadens his greasy smile. “Unless you want to pay me early. The missus wouldn’t mind a private lap dance if you’re in the mood.”
Revulsion makes it hard to keep my polite smile in place. “No, thanks. We’ll just stick with cash.”
“Your call, love.”
Larry’s been top of mind as a potential answer for what keeps tripping my sensors when I leave the club at night. As he wanders away, I stand watch just inside the door to check he really leaves. He rounds the corner and I release a slow sigh, turning to climb the stairs.
