3 comments/ 7906 views/ 6 favorites She Painted Up Her Face By: Cromagnonman She painted up her face and wished that for once the mirror would lie to her. It could at least tell her that the ravages of time meant nothing, that she was still a beautiful woman. But it was incapable of lying to her, it was incapable of airbrushing the reality of her life, a life once full of potential but now full of nothing. Her profession decreed that, because time and gravity had lowered her breasts, she wear a black lace bra to go with the mandatory black lace panties. She cupped her breasts and imagined a time gone by when such support was un-necessary, when they were loved by many men and hated by many women. Her hands moved to her nipples as she remembered a time when she could wear a tee shirt and her unsupported breasts did not require a bucket of water to make them stand out. Her memory of times past made this evening more poignant, this evening of all evenings. It was fifteen years ago tonight that she had been the centre of attention, the birthday girl, surrounded by family and friends, her father telling the world that his little girl was destined for great things, a happy marriage to her handsome fiancé, the mandatory two perfect children, a son followed a respectable time later, by a daughter, a fine house, and a fine car. All of that was to be hers, her dream. But dreams don't always come true, and in her case they became a nightmare. Her twenty first had been held in the church hall. It seemed only fitting that she should have it there, she was engaged to the Minister's son and her father was an Elder in the church. She and Brian were both leaders in the Youth Group and academic achievers bound for success in their chosen fields, he a Lawyer, and she a teacher. She looked as pretty as a picture standing beside her father as he chronicled her childhood as he knew it, complete with naked baby photos, tastefully chosen so that there were no 'naughty bits' visible. He handed her the large symbolic key to signify that she was now an adult and could therefore be trusted as such, and the assembly lustily sang 'Twenty-one today.' Brian was invited to join her on the stage and they kissed, chastely, as her father made his predictions for their future. She was allowed to stay behind when her parents went home early and left the young people to celebrate the occasion. They trusted her, they trusted Brian to not do anything, after all he was the Minister's son and if you couldn't trust him not to have sex with his fiancé before marriage, who could you trust. Her first experience of sex was on her wedding night, and it was a disappointment to her. She had been brought up on a diet of Barbara Cartland and Mills and Boon romance novels, and when the bells didn't ring she felt somehow cheated of that one great moment. They moved into their first home on their return from the honeymoon and he had picked her up and carried her over the threshold as tradition had demanded. "Welcome to our home my Darling." He kissed her on the lips. There was no passion in his kiss, it was the kiss of a man who had not learned how to love. Yes she did marry her handsome fiancé, and yes they did have a fine house, and a fine car, but the other things eluded her. In the beginning they made love every night, in the missionary position, but she remained unsatisfied. He would take her in his arms and kiss her for a few minutes, and would then raise her nighty and she would remove her panties while he removed his pyjama bottoms. He would climb between her legs and insert his penis in her dry and unprepared vagina. She would wait for some sensation to come, but none did. He would empty himself into her and withdraw, from her and to his side of the bed. She would lie awake listening to his heavy breathing. Following his graduation and becoming a fully-fledged lawyer, she gave up work. It was time for the planned first child so she stopped taking the pill and submitted to him night after night for three months until. "Darling?" "Yes Darling?" "How long after you stop taking the pill before you fall pregnant?" "It could happen straight away, it could take months, everyone is different. Why do you ask?" "I just thought that it should have happened by now." "Give it time, it will happen." She said confidently. But it didn't happen. After six months he asked the same question and got the same answer, but he wasn't satisfied. After twelve months he insisted that she should have a check up to see if there was any problem. "Well, what did the doctor say?" He asked as they lay in bed after yet another bout of lovemaking. "He said that everything seems fine, I'm ovulating as normal, producing an egg each month, as normal." "Maybe there's something wrong with your eggs, maybe you're infertile." "Maybe the problem is with you." "No, I'm certain it isn't, I produce the normal amount of semen." "Have you. . ." "No!" He cut her short. The problem had to be hers. He began to work longer hours. "Why do you have to work so late every night?" She asked him as they lay in bed. They hadn't made love again because he was too tired. "Because, because I have to prepare briefs for upcoming cases, I have to collate the prepared arguments for current cases. As a junior lawyer I have to do all of the hack work if I want to get ahead. You know that, we've discussed if before." Each day she tidied the house, did the laundry once a week, the grocery shopping once a week, visited her mother once a week. "How's Brian getting on?" Her mother asked. "He's working so hard these days, he's never at home. He even works weekends and is always tired. I don't know what's happening to us, we never have time to talk. I know he says he loves me and all that, but he doesn't even kiss me good-bye in the mornings any more. I can't remember the last time we made love." That's wrong, she thought, I can't remember it because we have never made love. We've had sex, mechanical sex, totally devoid of any sort of intimacy. "I'm sure that it will get better as he progresses at work and has people doing the work that he does now." "I'm beginning to wonder if he actually loves me, he hasn't told me that he does for ages." "I'm sure that he does, he just doesn't tell you. I know that your father loves me, he doesn't need to say it for me to know." "I don't know. I might have to try something to spice it up a little." "Don't do anything that you'll regret later." "I have to do something, I can't go on like this." "Be patient, I'm sure that you'll get over it." She couldn't understand why she would want to say that, it's not her that has to get over it. After dinner he went to have a shower and while he was in the bathroom I prepared myself. I had lashed out on a see through short nighty that left nothing to the imagination, combined with see through panties that advertised my readiness for some serious lovemaking. I was to be disappointed with the outcome. "How much did that cost?" "Is that all you can say, how much did that cost? Brian, I am your wife and I love you, but love is a two way street, you are supposed to love me. I know that you've been working hard at work, and I know that you are doing it for us, but I want you to take some time now and then to relax and be the husband that I know that you can be. Brian I want you to make love to me, really make love to me. Can you do that, just once?" I stood in front of him, making sure that the light showed what I was offering him in its best light. If what he did was any indication, our marriage was doomed. They drifted through life, she frustrated and he indifferent, for another couple of years. She had resigned herself to this life because she couldn't see any chance of improvement, she didn't want to be the one to end it all. He came home a little later than usual and he had been drinking. she knew that he had been drinking a little after work, but this time he was quite inebriated. "I don't want dinner." He said as I prepared to serve it. "Brian, I have waited dinner for you, you are very late and must be hungry, I know I am." "I don't want dinner, I had a bite to eat after work." He went off to shower. She threw a perfectly good meal in the rubbish bin and tidied up the kitchen. He was in bed when she got there, and mumbled something when she climbed in and kissed him on the cheek. "What did you say?" "Nothing." "You said something and I want to know what it was." "I said good night, but now that I'm awake, I need to talk to you. I want a divorce." "What? You can't be serious!" "I want a divorce." "Why? What has brought this on?" "You have to admit that we haven't been happy for some time." "Yes, you could say that. God knows I've tried but you haven't helped any. What possible reason can you have for wanting a divorce, it can't be anything that I've done." "I've been seeing someone, another woman." "At least it's not a man." I tried to lighten the mood. "How long has this been going on for?" "A while. We love each other and want to get married." "What about me? What am I supposed to do?" "You could go back to work." "Is it your intention for this woman, this Jezebel, should move into our house, the house that I helped you buy, our dream home where we were supposed to bring up a family, Do you want me to walk away from this just so you and she can live here together?" She know that she was sounding a little hysterical, but she was shaken by this news, although in hindsight she shouldn't have been surprised. After he left for work, she drove over to my parents' house. "What's the matter?" Her mother could see the panic on my face. "Brian came home last night and announced that he wants a divorce, not only that, but that he's been seeing someone else and wants me to move out." "What are you going to do?" "I don't know. I thought that you and Father could have a chat to his parents and see if we can arrange some sort of counselling to fix the problems." "We can try, but I wouldn't hold up too much hope." "What do you mean by that?" "I can't say anything just now. You need to make plans just in case this doesn't work out." She changed the subject quickly and went to make coffee for both of us. She stayed with her until mid-afternoon before she headed home. 'I'll give Brian this', she thought, 'once he makes up his mind about something he moves quickly. She arrived home to find her clothes in black garbage bags piled in the driveway and all the locks changed. She couldn't get into the house to collect any of her personal things. She threw everything into her car and drove back to her parents' house. "Surely you couldn't have packed that quickly." "No, he packed up all my clothes and piled them in the driveway. And he's changed the locks so that I can't get in to check for anything else." "I find it hard to believe that he would do something like this, he's always been such a nice man." "That's the side that you see, he has made life miserable for me for the past couple of years." "We can't do anything about it right now, come, you can give me a hand with dinner. We'll talk it over with your father when he gets home." Her father was of little help. He, in fact, made matters worse. "Reverend Thomas came to see me today to tell me that Brian has asked you for a divorce. This news was bad enough, but when he told me the reason for this decision I was shocked to say the least. How could you do this to him? Haven't we taught what is right and wrong?" "What are you talking about, I have done nothing wrong, nothing to warrant him seeking a divorce." "Committing adultery is nothing wrong?" "What?" "Brian told his father that he had evidence of your infidelity, and that's why he cannot live with you any longer, and that's why he has asked you to leave." "This is all bullshit!" "Watch your language in this house my girl." "He is lying. I have not been unfaithful to him, it is he that has been unfaithful. He told me last night that he wants a divorce because he has been seeing another woman, one that can give him the children that he wants, that I can't give him." "I can't believe that you would accuse him of lying, just to hide your sins. You are no daughter of mine." "I came here today to see if you and Mother would take me in for a while so that I can get my head around all of this, but I guess that's out of the question now, isn't it?" "I cannot deny you shelter, but don't expect anything more, and it will only be for a short time." This was the beginning of the end for her. The lies continued unabated in the months leading up to the divorce. She had applied through the courts for permission to enter the family home to retrieve certain items of emotional significance. This motion was denied on the basis that, as she had abandoned the family home, he had removed all her property and disposed of it, some donated to charity but the majority was taken away and destroyed. She sought Marriage Counselling. The court ordered individual counselling sessions to determine if joint counselling would be beneficial in resolving their marital differences, but he had convinced the Counsellor that their differences were irreconcilable. He made no mention of his new relationship. Faced with these insurmountable odds she had no option but to agree to the divorce. The weight of the evidence produced during the divorce hearing was in his favour, even when she tried to convince the court of his infidelity, and produced photographs of him spending time with a young woman and her child. He claimed that this relationship was in its infancy and only occurred after she had abandoned him and their marriage. The fact that he was the son of a respected Clergyman was emphasised to add veracity to his side of the story. They even produced a deposition from her own father in support of him. She left her parents' home soon after the divorce hearing and rented a small furnished apartment in a middle class neighbourhood. It was all that she could afford, but she would have to find work quickly before her savings and the small payout she received from the divorce ran out. Her old boss at the Department was sympathetic. "I'd love to give you your old job back, you were an excellent employee, but we have replaced you and, as she's on contract, we cannot sack her to re-employ you, you understand our position, don't you?" "Yes, I understand. I don't suppose that you know of any opportunities do you?" "No, I'm sorry. Things are very tight in this industry at present, there are more people looking for work than there are jobs to go around. If you leave your contact details I'll contact you if I hear of anything." "Thank you for that." She left her details and left. The newspaper was of no help, as was the temp agency. Each day became a ritual for her. She would go out and get the morning newspaper and pour over it over her breakfast, marking any potential opportunities. After showering and dressing she would make a series of calls, the first in response to those ads that she had marked. These were invariably fruitless, so it was then that she left for a round of cold calling. This was a dis-heartening process, garnering on a few occasions, sympathy, but on most occasions a short 'don't call us, we'll call you' response. By the end of the day she was physically and emotionally at a very low ebb. After six months of this soul destroying routine she realised that her meagre finances were rapidly diminishing and something would have to happen soon. She was reluctant to ask for help from her father, she couldn't stand the thought of his response and rejection. She was rapidly reaching desperation point and desperate times call for desperate measures. He was handsome, in a rugged kind of way, he had a ready smile and was generous with his money. She had gone to the hotel around the corner just to get out of the house and because there was a new band playing there, anything to take her mind off her predicament. "Is this seat taken?" He indicated the stool next to her at the bar. "No." It was a neutral answer, neither dismissive nor encouraging. "Do you mind?" He asked "Knock yourself out." Her response was aimed to let him know that she wasn't interested in him or his company. He sat down and ordered a drink, red wine she noted, and took a small sip from it before putting the glass on the bar. She sipped her wine and held her glass to her forehead to cool her face. "That bad huh?" "You could say that." "Boyfriend troubles or something more serious?" "You don't want to know." "Try me, I'm a good listener." She stared at him for a minute or two before deciding that there were worse things she could be doing than chatting to a total stranger. She couldn't think of any off the top of her head, but she was sure that there must have been. "No boyfriend, just a bastard of an ex-husband who took me to the cleaners and thoroughly screwed up my life." "Ouch." "The bastard left me because we couldn't have children. He had found some woman who had proof of her ability to have kids, she has a daughter from a previous relationship, so I got the flick." "Again, ouch." "And in the process of getting rid of me he not only disposed of most of my things, things of importance to me, but he told my father that he had proof of my infidelity, turning my father against me. That in a nut-shell is the sum total of my miserable life, one that I would not wish to burden anyone with." "Look, there's an empty booth over there, what say I buy you a drink and we can sit down and have a quiet conversation." This brought a sharp reaction from her and just when he thought that she was going to empty the contents of her glass over his head, she softened and stood up, taking her half empty glass and walking to the booth. He ordered a fresh glass for both of them and joined her. He bought her drink after drink until the cares of her world had faded into oblivion. He was a good listener, and when she finally ended her tale of woe, began to inject a lighter mood into their conversation. Somewhere in the conversation she told him that her name was Trudi, and the reason for her sadness was as much to do with her financial situation as it was with the hurt that she had experienced in her life. Soon she was smiling often and on occasions actually laughing, it had been a long time since she had felt so relaxed, she had begun to enjoy herself. It was late when he suggested that he take her home. "I live just around the corner, I can walk, so you don't need to take me." "I wouldn't think of letting you walk home alone, come let me walk with you." He stood and held out his hand to her. She rose unsteadily to her feet and allowed him to lead her from the hotel. Once outside she realised that she had drunk more than she should have, she staggered against him and he put his arm around her to steady her. She put her arm around his lean body and felt a new sensation, one that was missing from her marriage to Brian, a sensation of strength, and love, and safety. She dropped her purse as she fumbled for her keys and he stooped to pick it up. As he was down there she touched his face, he smiled as he rose to his feet and touched hers. He bent to kiss her and she felt once more the sensation of being loved. Inside her apartment she placed her arms around his neck and kissed him passionately on the lips. The sensation of his hands on her body sent shivers up her spine. She sobbed softly to herself, for so long she had missed this sensation, for so long it had been denied. In the morning she woke alone in her bed, her companion gone, leaving behind a pile of money, money enough to survive for a time. Her recollections of the previous night were hazy, somewhere in there she remembered his hands on her breasts, his finger inside her and then the pleasure that she felt when he entered her. He kissed her on the lips, her nipples and between her legs. She kissed his lips and for the first time, took a penis in her mouth. Whether it was from exhaustion or the feeling of being loved, she eventually drifted into a deep sleep, thinking of the pleasure that she had just experienced, it was a night she would remember, but it was also one that she would never forget. She Painted Up Her Face Months later when she had missed her second period she went to a doctor who confirmed the worst. "I thought that as I was unable to have children after years of trying, that I would not have to take precautions, obviously I was wrong, and that there is nothing wrong with my reproductive system." "You're married are you?" "I was, but not now." "We have a decision on our hands now, don't we? What are we going to do about this?" "I know that it sounds cold, but I'm not in a financial or mental place to be having a child." "Are you sure? If you decide on an abortion you can't undo that decision once it happens." "I'm sure." "Very well, I'll refer you to the Women's Health Clinic and they can fill you in on what happens next." It was as she left the surgery that she thought more about her situation. That she and her husband were unsuccessful at having children was not her fault, and this made her angry. Taking a pen, she wrote to him, telling him that she was pregnant to another man and suggesting that the child that his new wife had just presented him with, may not have been his. She didn't send the letter, what good would it have done. The Women's Health Centre arranged the abortion and provided her with the morning after pill in case she should get drunk again. The one thing that came out of this was the knowledge that she could easily forget her problems. She became a regular at the hotel around the corner, and just as regularly she did not go home alone. Men were willing to pay well for her services and she no longer sought employment, her new and comfortable existence was enough for her. "Hi, how are you this evening?" Will, the barman greeted her as she walked in and sat at the bar. "Fine, how are you?" "What'll you have this evening, the usual?" "Sure, thanks." "Are you meeting someone tonight, or flying solo?" "If there's someone to meet then I'll meet him, why do you ask?" "See that guy over in that booth at the back?" She glanced in the direction that he indicated with a slight nod of his head. "He's in town for one night, I think he's looking for some action, interested?" "Could be." There was another almost imperceptible nod of his head and the man stood and walked to the bar for a refill. He took her in with a quick glance. "Hi, can I buy you a drink?" "Why not." "Refill this young lady's drink for her." He turned to her. "Would you care to join me?" "Very well, just for a drink, no funny business." Her smile negated the comment, it was obvious that she was amenable to offers. As she sat down she took in the man. He was tall and slim, dark haired with no trace of grey, could be hair colour, she thought to herself. He had brown eyes to go with his dark complexion, Mediterranean, she thought, when he smiled at her his even teeth were unstained, a non-smoker, she thought, he wore no rings and there was no indication that he'd taken it off for the night, yes, I believe that I could be interested, she thought to herself. "I'm Paul, and you are?" For tonight I'm, "Gerry, that's short for Geraldine for which I will never forgive my parents." "I'm pleased to meet you Gerry." He reached his hand over the table and shook hers. "Will, he's the barman by the way, tells me that you're only here for this evening, are you in town for a meeting?" "Yes, it finished early and my flight isn't until tomorrow morning at 10." This wasn't true, but it gave him a reason not to contact her after this evening. "And is there a Mrs Paul waiting at home for you tomorrow?" "Unfortunately no." There was, but she was spending time with her mother and wouldn't be home until the weekend. They sat and talked for an hour, during which he refilled her glass four times and produced a bowl of corn chips for them to nibble on. "Would you like to come to my hotel room for a coffee?" "Would you like to come to my apartment, it's just around the corner and you don't have any prying hotel staff to bother with." "Sounds even better. Shall we go?" "No time like the present." "Lead on then." They left together and Will gave them a knowing smile as they left. He was on a good thing here, if she was willing, and for a 'spotters fee' he would steer men in her direction. He would broach the subject when she came in tomorrow night. Paul wasn't as good a lover as she had expected, he was only interested in his pleasure, she was merely a receptacle for that. If he had been better she would have invited him to stay the night, as it was he was encouraged to leave when she decreed that he had received his money's worth. "You were good, it's a pity that I have to push you out so soon, but you see, I have to get up early in the morning and I need my beauty sleep. Next time you're in town I'll see what I can do about having you stay the night. Good-night lover." She kissed him passionately on the lips and closed the door. What he paid her would pay her rent for a week, but there was still food to buy, and she needed new clothes, she couldn't show up wearing the same clothes too often. This was an expensive business that she was in. 'What I need,' she thought as she slipped out of the robe she wore to see Paul off, 'is someone to take the work out of finding men. Maybe Will could help, he seemed to have a handle on what she was doing.' Will was on duty the following night. "Hi, the usual?" He asked as she sat on her usual stool. "Sure thing." "How are things tonight?" "Fine, how are things with you?" "Same old same old, you know how it is in this job, same people drinking the same shit, no offence, I don't mean you," he smiled at her, "It's the guys who think that their shit don't stink and buy the latest fad drink for the bimbos that they bring in here, at the moment it's vodka and Red Bull, sort of a buzz and high at the same time." "Yeah I know what you mean, you see them all the time, pouring that stuff down the girl's throat as quickly as they can, so that they can get into the girl's pants, and get home to the wife before she gets worried and calls the cops to look for them. Give me an unattached man any time, less of a hassle." "You like single men don't you?" "Yeah, that guy last night has a wife and he got an attack of the guilts that caused his performance to suffer." "You're not a professional, are you?" "No, just an enthusiastic amateur trying to supplement my miserable salary and buy life's little luxuries like food and clothes. Why do you ask?" "I was just thinking that there might be a dollar in it for me if I were to steer likely men in your direction. For instance that guy down the end of the bar seems interested in you." "Are you telling me that you want to be my pimp?" "No, just looking for a spotter's fee for successful outcomes." "How do you know that I won't rip you off?" "I tell him how much it will cost him and you can give me my cut the next time you're in. If he's more than satisfied and pays extra, that's all yours, I don't want to know about it. So you see, we set a base rate, and you are encouraged to perform well by the prospect of more money. The better that you are the higher the fee." "What sort of money are we talking about here?" "I was thinking of 500 bucks for the evening until mid-night, if he stays the night a thousand, and I take ten percent. Is that okay by you?" "What will they expect for that kind of money? I'm not into any of that kinky stuff like BDSM or anal." "You make more for anal, you do know that don't you?" "I don't care, my arse is my own, and no-one goes in there, end of story." "All right. Now the guy down the end is after another drink, do I give him the word?" "Why not, he looks okay." He was okay, he stayed for two hours during which time they had sex twice and a cup of coffee while he asked her why an attractive young woman should be in this kind of work. "It's all about relationships. I placed all of my trust in a relationship with a man who I thought I could trust. Not only did he betray that trust, but he did it in a way that prevents me from committing to a long term relationship. Don't get me wrong, you seem to be a very nice guy, but once you leave here I will forget all about you. That way I won't get hurt." "That's sad. Not all men are like him." "Are you married?" "Yes." "I rest my case." He left her, but not before paying her the agreed amount and another hundred dollars that he thought of as 'conscience money'. The arrangement with Will prospered. As her confidence in her ability to perform increased, so did her price, and with this increase in earnings she decided to cut back on the number of times that she needed to go to the hotel. This marketing strategy of limiting her availability increased the demand for her services and further increased the asking price. Life was becoming undemanding on her, but this didn't mean that her standards dropped off. She still kept her figure trim and her dress was almost conservative, nothing overt about her sexuality, but for the discerning eye it was still there. "What will you have tonight?" Will asked as she entered. "What, or who are my choices?" "I have a tall, athletic type, looks fit and, shall we say, well endowed, and a business type, looks like he keeps trim, and loaded." "I'll have the usual while I think it over." "Sure, no rush, they aren't going anywhere." She settled on the businessman, and this was to be a mistake that cost her dearly. "Won't you come in?" She held the door open for him. "Here let me take your coat." She took his coat and placed it on a hanger. Turning to him she kissed him and led him to the sofa. "Would you like a drink?" "No thank you, I have everything I want right here." 'How nice', she thought as he kissed her. His kiss lingered and she felt his hand move to her breast. "You are an eager beaver, aren't you?" "I don't have a lot of time." His kissed became more passionate and she felt him fumbling for the buttons of her blouse. Unable to undo them he ripped it open and pulled her bra up over her breasts. As he hungrily devoured her nipple, his hand reached behind her and unclasped her bra. "Let's get rid of this thing." He pulled it away from her body and threw it across the room. He didn't stop to admire her before resuming his attack on her breasts, while, at the same time he was fumbling for the fastening and zipper of her skirt. He loosened it and pulled it down. "Fucking pantihose, these are a fucking waste of time, passion killers is what they are." He was stronger than he looked, the waist of her pantihose succumbed without a fight to his strength. He stood. "Take off my pants." He ordered. She obeyed, by this time she was scared of him and his aggression. "Now suck my cock." He held it in one hand and pushed it against her lips. "Suck it bitch!" She opened her mouth and he shoved it to the back of her mouth. She gagged on it. "What kind of whore are you that you gag on a cock?" "I'm not a whore, not really." "I paid good money for your sexual services, that makes you a whore, and you will do as I ask. Now suck my cock like you enjoy it." She tried, but she didn't enjoy it. Pushing her back onto the sofa he roughly pulled her to him and, without any preparation, shoved his cock into her dry vagina. It hurt her, having this penis ramming into her. After several minutes he withdrew and rolled her onto her stomach. He grabbed her hips and pulled them up to meet his cock. Again it was without preparation and it gave her no pleasure at all. Again this went on for several minutes before he withdrew. She felt the head of his cock against her anus. "No!" She screamed. "I won't let you shove that thing in my arsehole." He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. "I am going to fuck you in the arse, do you hear me?" "Please no, please don't do that." "Too fucking bad, you are going to get a good arse fuck and like it." He was not gentle, and she could feel it tearing as he shoved it in and out like a piston. She felt him come into her and withdraw from her. Then she felt him grab her hair and wrench her head back. His fist smashed into her jaw and she felt a couple of teeth break and blood well up in her mouth. "You would have to be the worst fucking whore that I have ever had. You are lucky that I'm kind or I wouldn't give you the money that your pimp demanded for your services." He took his wallet out and threw a bundle of notes onto the sofa. "The only reason that I'm doing this is that you won't be able to accuse me of raping you if you've charge for it." He dressed quickly and left. It took her some time before she could think at all. She rang the hotel and asked to speak with Will. "Will, help me." She sobbed into the phone. "What's the matter, are you hurt?" "Yes." Her voice trailed off as she lost consciousness. To paraphrase Dickens; 'It was the worst of times, it was the fucking worst of times'. She spent two weeks in hospital in pain. They wouldn't let her have a mirror 'until the swelling goes down'. The delay still didn't prepare her for the vision that confronted her when eventually she was allowed to look at herself. The swelling may have gone down but the purple and green bruising was still there, and in the middle of it were a couple of wires that were all that held her jawbone and cheek bone together. By running her tongue around inside her mouth she could feel the broken teeth. Will came and saw her a couple of times and she was aware of another person who came in when she was dozing and stood beside the bed for some time before slipping out just as she was waking. An Orthodontist looked at her teeth and decided that, as she couldn't afford caps he would build up her broken teeth with ceramic fillings and hope for the best. Her physical scars weren't the only ones she bore, she could not face being with a man. Will came to see her on his night off after she had been released from hospital. The news wasn't good, the police were not going to lay charges against the man that had beaten her up, because, as they put it, she was on the game. They decided not to proceed with her complaint of anal rape for the same reason, it would be too hard to get that charge to stick, given the circumstances. What he chose not to tell her was, that as a respected member of the judiciary, he could say whatever he liked and be believed. "How soon before you're up and about?" He asked. "You mean how soon before I'm back on the game?" She emphasised 'back on the game' to let him know that she was ashamed of her situation and was in no hurry to return, if ever. "Look, I don't know. There are things that I need to get my head around. It may be days, then again it could take months." "The longer that you stay away, the harder it will be for you." "Look at my face do you think that men will risk being seen with this? I know that I can use make-up to cover it up, but at the moment the amount of make-up that I will have to use to plaster over the damage, the scars, will be a turn-off to the men that I used to attract." "I need you back as soon as possible." "You need me back, or is it your cut of my take that you need back." "I care more about you than the money." "I wish that I could believe that. I'll see you when I'm good and ready, okay?" "Okay." She wasn't ready to go back when she did, but her decision was based on a financial imperative, she needed money to pay her rent. "Hi Will." "Hi stranger. What'll it be?" "What have you got?" "The guy with the blue suit looks a possibility." "Let's do it then." She tried to get into it but he was turned off by her intake of breath when he touched her. "Why do you do that?" "What?" "When I touch you, you pull back from me and there's that intake of breath as if you're afraid of me. What have I done?" "It's not you, it's me, I have a few problems in my life that need to be resolved. It's not your fault, but I was badly beaten a couple of months ago and I have only just been able to go out in public. I'll be okay soon." "I don't know whether I can wait that long." He stood up to go. "Stop, don't leave, come sit with me and talk to me, tell me about you and what you do for a job, it doesn't even have to be true." After talking for half an hour she had relaxed enough to allow him to have sex with her. She knew that he was not satisfied, but he paid the full amount none the less. It set her wondering how long she could continue to do this. As it turned out the radical change in her lifestyle was taken out of her hands. The flow of men through her door dried up to the point that Will stopped arranging men for her and brought in another girl, someone younger, prettier, and without the physical and emotional scars. The offers to take her home declined to a trickle and she took to going to other hotels, to drinking more, and to being less selective with who she let take her home, but they still paid, just not as much, and life was once more a struggle. At one hotel she was confronted by a woman who screamed at her to 'fuck off and find another patch!' I'm not a whore, she told herself, and she believed it. But her mirror doesn't lie, not any more. She had to face the fact that she was a whore. There was a knock on her door one morning. There was a man standing there with an envelope in his hand. "This is for you. You have two weeks to vacate this apartment." "Why? Why am I being kicked out?" "Because you haven't paid any rent for a month." "I'll get you the money, give me some time. I'll get it." She sobbed. She painted up her face and wished that for once the mirror would lie to her. It could at least tell her that the ravages of time meant nothing, that she was still a beautiful woman. But it was incapable of lying to her, it was incapable of airbrushing the reality of her life, a life once full of potential but now full of nothing. The scars had faded and were barely visible, but the emotional scars still remained and she felt the hurt more deeply now that her beauty had faded, than she had ever felt in her whole life, with the possible exception of when Brian had told her that he wanted a divorce so that he could marry that other woman. The mirror told her that she would be Juanita this evening. The heavy application of make-up, the bright scarlet slash of lipstick almost matching the bright red of the tight imitation leather top that was laced up the front to just under her breasts so that they, her breasts, were pushed up revealing upper slopes darkened by fake tan to match the rest of her body, a tan that was more orange than tan, but she couldn't afford the good quality product or a salon tan. Her black, also fake, leather tight skirt stopped barely inches below her lace panties. Her black fishnet stockings and stilettos completed this ensemble. She looked more like an aging porn star than the woman that she could have been if fate had not intervened in her life. Her mood sank deeper towards depression as she locked the door behind her and left for the hotel. This was her last throw of the dice, if she didn't find someone who could help her, she would be homeless like so many others she had seen during her nightly walks. Despair set in around mid-night, real despair. There had been no offers from men. Her mind, what remained still functioning, was going over her life as she trudged home along the darkened street. In doorways were piles of rags that contained the remnants of the humanity that she was about to join. Some acknowledged her passing while others withdrew into their own world. One such pile stirred and a head emerged. "Got a dollar lady, for a cup of coffee?" The head emerged even further from the shadows and there was something vaguely familiar about it. It shook to clear itself. "My god, I know you, you're Julia." She Painted Up Her Face "Who are you? Do I know you?" "It's me, Brian, we were married once, don't you remember?" She remembered all right, she remembered the hurt, she remembered being cast aside because she wasn't capable of giving him a child, but she was capable. How had he ended up here? "I don't know you." She shuffled, smiling, uncaring, into the night. She had only just dragged her body out of bed, she dare not look in the mirror this morning, she felt bad enough already without the added bonus of her care ravaged face staring accusingly back at her, when there was a soft knock on her door. Not knowing what to expect but hoping for the miracle that she knew would never happen, she opened it a bit to see her mother. Mum, what are you doing here?" "I've come to take you home." "No, not that, I couldn't face Dad." "You won't have to, he's not there." "Why, what's happened?" "Can I come in, we have a lot to talk about." "Sure, come in." She stepped aside to let her mother in. "Would you like coffee, I was just about to make myself a cup, god knows I need it." "Thank you, yes I will." She sat at the table and cleared a space in front of her. She was silent while the coffee was prepared and for a few minutes after. "I don't know how to tell you this, but your father is not well, mentally that is." "What is it, Alzheimer's?" "No, it's worse than that, much worse. With Alzheimer's he would most likely had lost his memory, but he remembers everything, and that's what has caused his clinical depression. He is in a mental health facility, heavily medicated and on a suicide watch." "But why, how did this happen?" "It happened when he heard the news about you, and about Brian." "What about me and Brian?" "Do you remember after Brian had asked for a divorce your father accused you of infidelity?" "Yes that hurt me very much, I had not been unfaithful and he chose not to believe me." "He based his stance on the fact that Brian had told his parents that you had been unfaithful. He did that to shift the blame for the marriage failure away from him and on to you. His father told your father and, given the circumstances of his position as our Minister, your father believed him. We have discovered recently that you had not been lying. That was when he found out what your life had become." "How did he find out? It's not as if he came looking for me." "I told him." "You what? How did you know?" "I've known for some time, even before you were bashed and ended up in hospital. I came to see you by the way, although you weren't aware of it." "That was you? I sensed that there was someone in the room that I couldn't see, someone who was not one of the medical staff. That was you?" "Yes. I couldn't help you because of your father, he, as you would know, kept a very tight hold on the purse strings, so I couldn't help you financially, even though it hurt me to see you struggling. Don't worry about getting evicted, if you decide not to come home I will help you out with your rent." "But how?" "Due to your father's condition, I have an enduring power of attorney over his finances and I have decided to use some of it to help you. While he won't admit it, he's much too proud to admit to having made a mistake, I know that he will approve." "Brian hasn't come out of this smelling of roses either." "Have you seen him? No-one seems to know where he is, or doesn't care where he is like that slut of a wife of his, pardon the language, but that's what she turned out to be." "I saw him this evening, he recognised me but I chose not to stop. He's sleeping rough under the overpass down the road a bit. How did he sink so low, not that I care?" "When he told you that he wanted a divorce, he told you that he was seeing someone who could present him with the children that you couldn't." "Don't remind me of that, after the divorce I had a little too much to drink one night and made love to a man that I met in the bar. I fell pregnant to that one night stand, so I knew that the problem was his, and boy did that knowledge hurt me. I even wrote him a letter suggesting that the child that she had given him may not be his, but I never sent it." "You were right, the problem was his. He had made love to this woman at a Christmas party, she was a paralegal at his law firm, and she fell pregnant. She told him that the child was his and he believed her because he wanted to. They had one more child after they married, coincidently about nine months after the next Christmas party, and he thought that life was looking pretty good. That was until she asked for a divorce not long ago, and in the ensuing heated discussion told him the truth about the parentage of 'his' children. It turns out that she was something of a nymphomaniac and, and these were her words, would 'fuck anyone with a dick between his legs'. He was devastated by this, and the fact that she was leaving him for one of his bosses who was newly widowed, and a much better future prospect. He couldn't see past her kindness to him in his time of grief." "The manipulating bitch!" "He took to drinking heavily and eventually he was let go from his job following a couple of spectacularly dramatic court failures. He eventually told his father the truth who, showing true compassion, severed all ties with him, told him he never wanted to see him again. His father told your father and he lost the plot. It was so sad to see him struggling with his demons like that, and I tried to convince him that an apology to you would help, but he just couldn't bring himself to do that. So there you have it. What are you going to do, are you coming home with me?" "Yes, this place was never a happy one, and now that I know that it was so un-necessary if Father had believed me in the beginning, it will be even sadder to have to stay here." "Good, pack your things and I'll help you carry them to the car." She found her room to be exactly as she had left it. "Your father never came in here so I kept it like you had left it." "Can I change it?" "You can do whatever you want with it, it is your room." "I've been thinking, what should I do about Brian, he seemed to want to speak to me last night, and I just walked away from him." "I can't tell you what to do. You must do what's in your heart to do." She painted up her face and wished that for once the mirror would lie to her. It could at least tell her that the ravages of time meant nothing, that she was still a beautiful woman. But it was incapable of lying to her, it was incapable of airbrushing the reality of her life, a life once full of potential but now. . . . It was only a light dusting of make-up, just enough to cover the scars, an understated lipstick and minimal eye make-up. She had thought of wearing a business suit, but that would look totally out of place where she was going, so it was jeans, a casual top and joggers. She kissed her mother good-bye. "You are doing the right thing." She was told as she left.