Charity (40 page)

A sob made the girls turn to look at Charity. Tears were running down her cheeks.

‘Oh I see, it’s like that, is it?’ Dorothy put her arm round Charity. ‘Didn’t we manage to teach you anything?’

The three girls had a cup of coffee together. Charity told them a little of how things were between her and John, but when she asked who they were going out with tonight and how the girls had met these men, Rita disappeared into her bedroom and Dorothy rushed for the bathroom.

Charity followed Dorothy. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.

Dorothy took off her dressing-gown and climbed into the bath. Her hesitancy confirmed Charity’s fears that something wasn’t quite right.

‘It’s just a date with a couple of chaps we met at the agricultural show,’ Dorothy said too quickly, moving on to tell Charity how Miss Rushton had sent them both out to help on one of the stands.

Charity knew this much was true. She’d seen some leaflets about tractors lying around when she cleared up. But the girls were holding something back.

‘Don’t shut me out,’ she said, sitting down on the toilet and folding her arms. ‘I had a funny feeling Rita was doing more than just promotion work before I went away. Is this something to do with that?’

Dorothy blurted it out then and Charity’s eyes opened wide with shock.

Rita wasn’t just working at promotions. She was an escort for lonely businessmen at night. For each man she went out with she got a fee of ten pounds. Now Dorothy had joined her and they were getting the contacts from a woman called Carmel Connor.

‘Rita didn’t tell you straight away because she thought you wouldn’t approve,’ Dorothy explained. ‘I thought it sounded a bit dodgy too, until I met Carmel.’

Charity just listened as Dorothy went on to explain how she had been initiated.

‘We had a double date because I refused to go alone with anyone,’ she said. ‘I was dead scared, but we had a whale of a time. The two men took us to the Beachcomber Club. We had a fantastic meal, all the drinks we could guzzle down and then they put us in a taxi home. Tonight we’re going to a show, then on to another club.’

Charity wasn’t surprised that a couple of businessmen would want to pay for the privilege of taking the girls out. They were funny, intelligent, well bred and stunning. Even lying back in a bath, Dorothy was gorgeous: long brown hair slicked back from a face devoid of makeup, golden satiny skin, breasts like two bouncy tennis balls, a small waist, shapely hips and long, long legs. Her oval face, aquiline nose and lips with a perfect Cupid’s bow had all the hallmarks of classic beauty, but her almond-shaped tawny eyes gave her something special that would make anyone turn to look at her.

‘It sounds dangerously like prostitution to me,’ Charity said in alarm. ‘And I’m shocked at you not talking Rita out of it.’

‘You’ve got it all wrong.’ Dorothy’s eyes sparked with indignation. ‘Look there’s hundreds of lonely men stuck in London overnight. They aren’t looking for sex – most of them are happily married. All they want is a bit of fun with a pretty girl on their arm. These two we went out with were typical. Middle-aged, fat and balding, but they were nice guys. We just made sure they had a good time. We didn’t even kiss them. As for Rita, well why should I talk her out of something so harmless?’

Dorothy had put together a good case, but just the same, Charity didn’t like the sound of it.

‘But you might have been lucky so far,’ she argued, understanding now why Rita had got out of the way. ‘Next time it could be different. They might whisk you off to a hotel. They could be nut cases or perverts!’

‘We told Carmel that we’d only do double dates.’ Dorothy had that snooty look she always put on when someone criticised her. ‘She’s a really nice woman, not a brothel keeper, if that’s what you’re thinking. She sacks girls who take money for sex, it’s purely an escort agency.’

Charity shrugged her slim shoulders.

‘If you want to do it then that’s up to you,’ she said. ‘Just don’t try to drag me into it too.’

Dorothy’s eyes narrowed.

‘But that’s the whole point,’ she wheedled. ‘You see, Carmel’s got enough jobs to keep us out six nights a week. We’d be exhausted if we did that many. But if you joined us too, we could work a rota.’

‘I couldn’t,’ Charity said point blank, holding out a warm towel to her friend. ‘Any man spending a lot of money on a girl hopes for something in return.’

‘Did John?’ Dorothy smirked.

‘No. He isn’t like that,’ Charity said indignantly. ‘If I’d said no he’d have been just as nice.’

Dorothy smiled in triumph.

‘It’s just the same with these men. You make the ground rules right from the start,’ Dorothy said as she pulled out the plug and swished the bathwater round. ‘You don’t go back to their hotel room. You steer the conversation away from sexy things and if they do try anything, you put them down firmly.’

‘No.’ Charity turned away to the door. ‘You two do it if that’s what you want, but don’t include me.’

‘You could make about forty quid a week,’ Dorothy called after her. ‘Think what that would mean on top of your daytime wages!’

Charity closed her ears to temptation. The only job she wanted was the one for Glamour Girl Cosmetics.

Charity was nervous. She knew she looked good in her blue jacket and toning plaid skirt; Rita had helped with her hair and makeup. But although the girls had play-acted interviews with her last night, they couldn’t prepare her for the close scrutiny these two men were putting her under.

The man right in front of her had introduced himself as Mr Burgess, the sales director. Around forty, he was a suave-looking man in a pin-striped suit, and had thick dark eyebrows. He had done all the talking so far, explaining how he intended to make his products market leaders.

The other man was older, with grey hair and glasses, but he hadn’t spoken and he seemed to be just an observer.

Miss Rushton, who made up the trio, sat at the side of the desk, presumably there to give the two men guidance about the interviewees.

‘Well Miss Stratton,’ Mr Burgess looked down at her application form and then back at Charity, ‘I’m a little puzzled as to why a girl who looks as good as you has only experience of domestic work.’

He couldn’t fault Charity’s appearance. With her clear skin, shining, well-cut hair and that blue leather jacket and skirt she had the chic of a French girl.

Fortunately this was one question Dorothy had anticipated.

‘I had to find a living-in job when my parents died,’ she explained, looking him straight in the eye as Dorothy had said she must. ‘I would’ve preferred something more challenging, but that was all there was. I studied in my spare time and I’ve just been waiting for a chance to break into the beauty world.’

‘I see.’ He was surprised too by her voice and confidence. ‘We give training, of course, as a beautician, but the job also requires selling ability. Now just suppose Miss Rushton came to your stand, how would you persuade her to change her brand of cosmetics?’

Charity looked across at Miss Rushton. She was an elegant blonde in her thirties, with faultless makeup.

‘I’d start off by admiring her appearance.’ She gulped hard, unsure of herself. ‘Clearly I couldn’t claim to improve on her makeup, but once I’d discovered what she used already, I could maybe point out that Glamour Girl products were less expensive, yet of a similar quality.’

‘Very good, Miss Stratton.’ He smiled. ‘But is talking enough?’

‘I think I’d try and get her to let me smooth some of your face cream into her hand,’ Charity said. ‘Once she felt how nice it was she’d be tempted. Or I could show her the colours of the lipsticks and nail varnish. Every woman wants a new colour now and again.’

The two men exchanged glances and the older man nodded.

‘Are you free to start two weeks’ training next Monday, Miss Stratton?’ Mr Burgess asked.

Charity was stunned for a moment. She had expected a far longer grilling.

‘Yes please,’ she said eagerly, assuming this meant she’d been selected. ‘I mean, yes sir,’ she said, blushing.

Mr Burgess stood up and held out his hand, smiling at last.

‘Welcome aboard, Miss Stratton,’ he said. ‘Keep that enthusiasm, it’s the salesgirl’s best weapon. Miss Rushton will give you all the company rules, explain the uniform and so on. Providing you prove satisfactory during training, we will allocate you to a stand in a London department store to start mid-March.’

‘Thank you sir.’ Charity shook his hand, her smile as wide as the office windows.

‘That’ll be Carmel,’ Dorothy called out to Charity as the doorbell rang. ‘Let her in and make her a cup of coffee, will you?’

It was four weeks since Charity had returned from Florence. She had joined another seventeen girls for two weeks’ intensive training and now each of the girls on the course had been sent to a store in London or the Home Counties as a beauty consultant. Charity was at Barker’s in Kensington High Street, and after only one week her sales had been impressive enough for the floor manager to extend the intended four-week promotion for another month.

During this time Rita and Dorothy had continued to act as escorts, three or four times a week. Charity’s feelings swung between disapproval and envy. They were making a great deal of money, and having a good time, but Charity was still concerned for their safety.

‘Carmel?’ Charity asked as she opened the door and found a big but elegant woman standing there.

‘I am.’ The woman smiled knowingly. ‘Not what you expected?’

Charity blushed. She had pictured the owner of the escort agency as a brassy blonde, but she could hardly admit that.

She had hoped her friends would drop this nighttime work now they had a good job. But neither Rita nor Dorothy seemed as committed to Glamour Girl as herself and they never missed an opportunity to try and get her to join them as an escort. She suspected they’d invited Carmel to the flat as further persuassion.

‘You’re much younger than I imagined,’ Charity said diplomatically. ‘Do come in. Dorothy and Rita are dressing.’

The woman was undeniably attractive. Although stout, she carried it well. Her complexion was flawless, her dark hair worn in a becoming bouffant style and her emerald green suit was impeccably cut.

‘How kind.’ Carmel chuckled, dark eyes sparkling with youthful mischief. ‘I won’t see fifty again, but I do try to keep old age at bay.’

Despite Charity’s convictions that this woman was nothing short of a procurer of young girls, she liked her instantly. Although she was glamorous in her stilettos and her beautiful suit, her face was comfortingly maternal.

‘Are you enjoying your job?’ she asked Charity, as she sat down on the settee. ‘Dorothy and Rita said you’re outshining all the other girls!’

‘I don’t know about that.’ Charity blushed modestly. ‘I’m still learning. But I do love it.’

From the first time she’d nervously asked a woman customer to come on to her stand for a facial and makeup demonstration, Charity had discovered the creativity there could be in selling.

‘Your own skin is the best advertisement,’ Carmel said, looking at her critically. ‘If I was to walk into a store and see you offering advice on makeup, I’d assume it was entirely due to your products.’

‘I learned a lot of handy hints in the training,’ Charity admitted. ‘I was hopeless at makeup before.’

Learning about beauty had added to the confidence John had boosted. Now she’d lost her timidity and every day seemed an exciting new challenge.

‘Well, you look wonderful,’ Carmel said firmly. ‘I wish you’d join Rita and Dottie working for me. Some of my gentlemen would be thrilled to take you out.’

‘I can’t,’ Charity said firmly. But she was tempted. The girls seemed to go to such swish clubs and restaurants and she was getting fed up with staying in alone at nights, thinking about John and jumping every time the phone rang. But deep down she still felt it was immoral.

Carmel studied Charity carefully. Running a marriage bureau was her main business; the escort work was a lucrative sideline which was gradually taking over. But finding the right girls was tough. They had to be attractive, intelligent and well mannered, with enough poise and sophistication not to show her gentlemen up in smart places.

‘I understand your fears,’ she said gently. ‘I know many escort agencies are just a front for prostitution. But not mine. I vet each client carefully. I know about men, Charity, and when I say mine are all gentlemen, I mean it.’

‘I’m sure they are,’ Charity said. She was reassured slightly now she’d met the woman Dorothy and Rita spoke so highly of, but she was still hoping that John would be back from Germany soon and he certainly wouldn’t approve of her doing such a thing. ‘It’s just not my scene.’

She was saved from further persuasion by Dorothy appearing.

‘What’ve you got for us tonight, Carmel?’ she asked, eyes sparkling with anticipation. ‘David Niven look-alikes, or a roly-poly midget?’

Charity reached the safety of her bedroom just in time to hear Carmel’s answer.

‘Yours is almost a Rock Hudson, Rita’s more Peter Cushing, but they are both directors of an international stationery company and they want to see a show, then dinner afterwards.’

Charity felt rather lonely once the others had left, and phoned Lou for a chat. Now she almost wished she hadn’t. Toby was in trouble.

It was Lou’s reluctance to talk about anything other than Charity’s job that made her suspicious. But she had kept probing until finally Lou blurted it all out.

It was serious – not minor naughtiness or disobedience. Toby had stolen money from another boy at Wellington and he was found to have a huge amount of sweets and chocolate hidden in his locker. Only Uncle Stephen’s powers of persuasion had prevented his being expelled.

‘But I thought he was happy,’ Charity said. ‘Why is he doing this? Why would he want so many sweets?’

‘I can’t say. He has more than enough pocket money of his own.’ Lou sounded distressed. ‘I suspect though he has been trying to buy other boys’ friendship with the sweets. That’s a fairly classic symptom in a child who feels isolated.’