All I could think of was the photograph and me hovering in the background, just asking to be identified.
Kirstie sat down with her bowl of cereal. She ate a spoonful, and reached across for the paper.
‘You finished with this?’ she asked, her mouth full of cornflakes.
‘Yup,’ I replied, ‘not that there’s anything worth reading this morning.’
I felt sick with nerves. There was nothing I could do. The morning paper always did the rounds of the flat of a Sunday. It wasn’t my paper to snatch away and hide in my room—its absence would have been noticed. And if I’d simply removed the celeb spread, that would have been noticed too. It was the page we all turned to.
That hit me. Carrie must have seen the pages before I’d even entered the kitchen. Had she seen me? Surely not. If she had done, she’d have mentioned it to me, wouldn’t she?
My mind was a mixture of horror and worry. The shock of seeing myself in the paper. The fear of my cover being blown. The trouble that would cause. The Girls recognizing my picture. The questions they would ask. What if, what if…? All I could hope was that Carrie hadn’t seen the photo, and Kirstie wouldn’t. If any of the Girls did pick me out, then all I had to do was lie.
They had no idea of my business, so all I had to do was say I was there because I was visiting someone from home. A distant relative, or someone like that.
I would have to think on my feet, but sitting here, fearing the worst, was no help to me. I stood up from the table.
‘I’ve got to sort myself out for the day,’ I smiled. ‘I’ll leave you in peace.’
I left the room only hoping that all the damage that picture could do would remain in my imagination.
Gray
Early March
Gray had his hand around his pint and was staring intently at the picture in the paper. He looked across at me and screwed up his eyes as if he was really taking me in, looked back down again and shook his head a couple of times. Then he picked up his beer and took a couple of gulps. Gray was playing for time, keeping me in suspense, in that way he had.
‘Come on,’ I laughed. ‘Give it to me. What do you think?’
‘It’s definitely you, all right,’ he teased, setting his glass back down on the table.
I rolled my eyes in mock exasperation. ‘I knew that! But do you think I’m likely to be found out?
That was the crux of why I’d called him up. The paparazzi shot had got under my skin, and the only person I knew who’d help me make sense of it was Gray. As the manager of my ‘Satisfaction with Luke’ website, he knew exactly what I was about. There was no having to explain myself with him.
He half whistled out of the side of his mouth. ‘That’s a hard one. It’s a possibility, of course.’
‘Isn’t everything?’ I countered, as I picked up my beer glass to take another swig.
‘True. My point is, there’s a strong chance nothing’ll happen.’
‘And if it does?’
‘Cross that bridge when you come to it, mate. And never admit guilt or shame. That’s what the bastards want, y’know.’
He set down his glass hard on the table, signalling that that was the end of it.
Gray wasn’t telling me anything I hadn’t expected, or already thought about myself. But it helped to have him reflect it back to me. And to have someone listen to my worries.
Let’s face it, it wasn’t as if I could talk to my flatmates about my escort work. They were the very people I feared would find me out. It was just too early days for them to know my business and, anyhow, why should they need to? As long as I paid my bills on time and was friendly enough, surely that was all that mattered?
It was as if Gray was reading my thoughts. ‘Have the Girls seen this? They know about what you do, right?’
I nervously ran my fingernail against the table edge, filing a groove. Certainly it did concern me that the wider world might find me out. Because should I ever get mixed up in some scandal or other, there wouldn’t be too many steps between my identity being made known here in Britain and it being picked up by the expat Aussie press and beamed home for my friends and family to read. That’s not what I wanted at all.
But my more immediate worry was that Carrie and the others might find out. And where would that leave me?
‘They don’t know?’ gasped Gray, his pint held in mid-air on the way to his mouth. ‘What the fuck do they think you’re doing?’
‘Oh come on, Gray. Why the hell would I want to tell them about the escort work? I’m getting paid for sex, for God’s sake!’
He had a broad grin across his face. ‘Exactly! So what’s your problem?’
I laughed along with him. Both of us knew exactly what I was getting at. It might have been fine for us guys to make light of the way I made my living. After all, it was most blokes’ dream. But there were plenty of other people who just didn’t get it. God, in this country, most people still believed prostitution was illegal.
But it wasn’t just that. The idea of someone they knew being involved went way beyond most people’s imaginings, and I couldn’t be sure how my three female flatmates would respond to having a hooker in their midst. I didn’t want to risk things, especially so early in my tenancy. I’d only just got here. I’d hate to have all the hassle of moving out again any time too soon.
Gray was frowning, as if he’d just thought of something. ‘What do you tell them, then? Y’know, about the countless phone calls. And especially the overnighters?’
I gave him a massive grin in return. ‘I’m an Aussie guy in London, Gray. What else would I be doing?’ I raised my glass to him and we chinked like a high-five.
Not that I put it so bluntly to the Girls, of course. They raised an eyebrow at how often my BlackBerry went off, but I just shrugged it off by hinting at my amazing popularity with their compatriots out there. I’m not sure they completely believed me.
Or whether Gray was convinced, come to that.
‘And they’re OK with that?’
‘Seem to be,’ I shrugged.
He gave a low whistle through his teeth: ‘And you’re shacked up with those three too. It’s women all the way with you, isn’t it? God, I wish I was in your shoes, Luke!’
I set my half-full pint down on the table: ‘I bet you do!’
It was funny how the guys I knew made such a big deal of me being the only bloke in my flat. I mean, it wasn’t as if I didn’t have sex on tap. What difference would three more babes make to me? When I’d just moved in, just before my Aussie mates had left for home, they’d been the same as Gray. Not believing my fucking luck. None of them seemed to get that I didn’t see Carrie, Kirstie or Laura like that. They were just mates. Good fun to have around, but anything beyond that wasn’t top of my agenda.
Not that I completely ruled out a drunken fumble some time with one or other of them—a wild night that we’d look embarrassed about in the cold, hungover light of the next morning. Never say never. It wasn’t that I was planning anything of the sort. It was just…Three of them, one of me; a statistical probability at some point in the future. Surely.
But I could see where Gray was coming from. The Girls’d be certain to get curious about what I got up to some day soon. And end up asking questions I needed to have answers to.
I’d been on good terms with enough women to find out