only the buildings becoming shabbier, but also the people. Women with hard faces, coloured with garish makeup, wandered listlessly. Their eyes followed the trio up the street, assessing their new clothes, and wealthy appearance.
‘Not far now,’ Walter assured them.
‘Where are we going?’ asked Jade.
‘The Golden Stag,’ smiled Walter. ‘It’s one of the few pubs that are still open at this time of night. You’ll love it. It has loads of atmosphere.’
They turned a corner, and Walter led them toward the lights at the end of the block, where the sound of jazz music filled the air. As they strode toward the music, Jade noted that the number of women lounging against walls and streetlights, had grown.
‘They’re prostitutes, aren’t they?’ Jade whispered to Walter.
‘Nah! We’re the Queen of bloody England and her hand maidens, you stupid bitch!’ Snarled one of women, her companions laughing as Rani and Jade moved closer to Walter.
‘Now, now ladies. Be nice,’ called Walter to the lounging women.
On entering the Golden Stag, Jade found that the ‘atmosphere’ Walter had spoken of, consisted mainly of cigarette smoke. Thick clouds of it formed a fog that they had to make their way through, to get to one of the few empty tables. Jade noticed that it was located near a dark, narrow passage that led to the toilets, and on the opposite side of the room to the small stage. A jazz combo occupied the stage, and it looked as though the number of people vying for space to play their instruments would cause the stage to collapse at any minute.
After seating the girls, Walter made his way to the bar, leaving Rani and Jade to survey their surroundings.
They found that the smoke helped to disguise the shabbiness of the place. Scarred furniture attested to the many fights that had taken place, while the table surface itself had been used by bored drinkers as a place to make their mark on the world, in the form of gouged messages, and initials.
The inmates of the room seemed to be a continuation of those found on the street outside, however, as Jade looked more closely, she noted that there were several tables occupied by well-dressed couples.
Walter returned with three glasses of ale. ‘No champagne in this fine establishment, I’m afraid.’ He laughed, placing the drinks before them. ‘Drink up.’
Rani and Jade, lifted their glasses, and sipped at the frothy head. The yeasty taste was nothing like the bubbly sweetness of the champagne they had drunk earlier that evening. Both turned up their noses, and grimaced as they looked at one another.
‘Now, now. Don’t be a snob. Give it a chance,’ chided Walter.
Jade placed the glass down before her, determined not to have another drop. Rani followed suit.
To divert Walter, she waved at the room, and asked, ‘So, what sort of place is this?’
Walter took a deep drink from his glass, and licked the froth from his top lip. ‘Like I said; it’s one of the few pubs still open this late at night. It has great music, and I like to come down here to watch the world go by. You get a wide variety of people here. For instance,’ he said pointing to a couple in a far corner, ‘over there, you have a well-known couple. He’s a film star in ‘B’ grade movies, and she’s a well-known author, while sitting next to them is a heavily made-up young man in a silver gown.’
‘I thought that was a woman!’ exclaimed Jade.
‘No, that’s Barry. I went to school with him,’ said Walter, waving to the gowned figure, who returned Walter’s salute with a cheery wave of his own.
‘Truth be told, it was Barry that actually told me about this place. He loves his jazz.’
Shocked, the girls examined the occupants of the pub more closely. True, most of the drinkers appeared to be from the local area, but those that weren’t were very well-dressed, as though they had come from the theatre or more lavish parties.
‘One of these days, the poor working girls won’t be welcome in here anymore. It’ll be completely taken over by the city’s snobbery, but, until that happens, I’ll come here to watch and learn.’
Just then, one of the streetwalkers entered. Crossing the room, she made her way to a table nearby, where a handful of crumpled notes was passed to one of its male occupants. Without looking, he thrust the notes into his coat pocket, returning immediately to his drink, ignoring the woman completely. With a vacant expression, she shrugged her shoulders, and returned to the streets outside.
Jade looked at Walter for an explanation. Walter leaned closer to the girls, and in a low voice explained, ‘He’s her ‘pimp’. She gives him all the money she earns, and in exchange, he gives her protection — supposedly — although most of the girls are in more danger from their pimps, than from their clients. These men can be very physical with their girls, if they think the girl has been holding out on his share of the money, or if he doesn’t think she’s been working hard enough.’
‘The wretch!’ said Rani, eyeing the man.
‘I wouldn’t say that too loudly,’ said Walter, ‘Most of the carvings on these tables are done by the pimps, using the very sharp knives they carry around with them. They’re rather prone to using the blade to carve into anything that disagrees with them. Including people. Now drink up, and we’ll listen to the music.’
They returned to the Golden Stag often. Usually late at night, when a jazz band was playing, and the girls gradually learned to appreciate the nuances of the music. They also learned to like the ale, but not as much as French champagne. When Rani decided that study was more important than a night on the town, Jade and Walter continued to visit as a couple.
Familiarity meant that Jade began to get used to the working girls, just as the girls began to recognise Jade. There was a tacit agreement between the women that they would be polite with one another, but would never become friends. Both sides knowing that could never happen. However, nods of greeting were now exchanged, and the women ceased to sneer at Jade behind her back.
The circumstances under which the women worked upset Jade, especially on the cold wet evenings, when the women were forced to continue strolling the streets, despite their wet bedraggled clothes. All to feed the drinking and gambling habits of their pimps.
‘I wish there was something that I could do to help them,’ said Jade.
Walter took a drink, and regarded Jade over the top of his glass. ‘Well you can’t. Anything that you could try to do to help would be wrong. It would undermine the power of their pimps, and pimps have a very effective way of solving problems like that.’
‘They wouldn’t dare hurt someone that was trying to do something good.’
‘You’re right, they probably wouldn’t. However, what they would do, would be to ensure that the girls under their ‘care’ didn’t attempt to go anywhere near the person offering help. And a sharp blade would ensure that they are obeyed.’
‘Would they really do that?’
‘To ensure they didn’t lose their money earners, they’d do anything. So don’t even think about trying to help.’
‘But what if they just wanted to walk away?’
‘As a deterrent, they’d probably find their face slashed. Or worse.’
‘That’s horrible.’
‘That’s life.’
Rani, applying herself diligently, progressed quickly through her studies, always near, or at, the top of her class.
Jade passed her courses too. Mid-class to be sure, because she hadn’t really applied herself, but passes nonetheless.
By the time the girls turned twenty-one, Rani was about to enter her internship at one of the leading teaching hospitals, while Jade had a last year to go before qualifying