The Betrayed (3 page)

It was through Kristina that Rosie had landed her job at The Keyhole – but not as a nude waitress, like Kristina, or as a dancer. Rosie worked behind-the-scenes: a part-time office assistant, doing the books for Roberto Caesar, the flamboyant owner.

As the lights changed to green, Kristina drove across the Kings Road into Chaney Walk, where some of London’s most expensive mansions were tucked away in private mews. Rosie vaguely registered them as they passed, aware that at least two of Ruby’s schoolfriends lived in this part of town.

Not wishing to offend her, but unable to keep silent, Kristina finally said: ‘You know the answer is in
your
hands, Rosie. No one will come knocking on your door offering you money. You have to make things happen yourself. You know Roberto would be more than happy for you to get out of that office… into the bar, or one of the private dining rooms.’

‘Don’t… don’t…’ Rosie said quickly, unwilling to even consider the possibility of waitressing topless, or, worse still, nude hostessing. But she knew, even as she fought with herself, that money was so tight that she couldn’t afford to turn anything down. After all, Kristina did it every night.

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ she said, after a deep breath, ‘I’m not judging you for what you do, it’s… it’s just not for me.’

They’d had this conversation many times before and Kristina knew better than to push it. They were, after all, good friends.

‘Tell you what,’ said Kristina ‘why don’t you let me lend you the money then, for the trip. You can pay me back when you’ve got it. There’s no rush.’ She glanced over at Rosie. ‘It wouldn’t be a problem.’

‘Thanks, but no thanks.’ Rosie said, looking straight ahead. “‘A friend in need is a pain in the arse”, remember? If you borrow money from friends, that is the surest way to lose them. And I don’t want to lose you as a friend.’

Kristina smiled. ‘Well, the offer is there, if you change your mind.’ She turned off the busy street, taking their regular short cut. ‘And you’re okay with the next school fees? When are they due?’

‘Oh stop it! You’re stressing me right out.’

‘I’m only –’

‘Just leave it… leave it, leave it. I don’t want to talk about it any more.’

Rosie followed Kristina into the brightly lit hallway of the Keyhole Club, so called because rich, powerful, people pay hefty membership fees to be given their own front-door key. It’s a spectacular, glamorous venue with numerous bars and private dining rooms, where anything and any fetish is catered for. Between six in the evening and three in the morning, London’s most hardened partygoers are free to indulge themselves in almost any way they can imagine. There’s the ‘Wicked Dining Room’, offering members an electric and occasionally painful entertainment; the ‘Hard-On Room’ for the naked gay orgies; the ‘Rubber Room’, with leather and latex uniforms; the ‘Smack Room’, where there is a spanking bench; and ‘The Dungeons’ where there are two St Andrew’s crosses, a steel cage, and rope suspension.

‘I’ll come and see you when I’ve got a break, okay?’ said Kristina, as she went off to get ready for the night’s work. Rosie made her way upstairs to the office, where she found Roberto, the owner, sitting with his feet up on the desk, talking loudly into the phone. True to form he was wearing red, patent-leather shoes and electric-orange, silk socks to match his silk ruffled shirt.

Nobody did androgyny better than Roberto. He was, with his contoured cheeks, eclectic style, and shocking pink goatee beard, a genuine, flamboyant queen. Camp, loud, and popular, his playful, disarming persona had more than an approachable appeal. He was the ultimate host and everybody loved him. Rosie was no exception.

The moment he saw her enter, he slammed down the phone and jumped up.

‘Rosie! Rosie! Rosie! My little angel!’ he cried, enthusiastically. ‘I’m
so
glad you’re early!
Please
, you’ve got to help me out – one of the girls has phoned in sick. Please, I just need you to work in the club for
one
night. You don’t have to do anything, just be there… and put on that
lovely
smile of yours.’

It was like a little ritual at the beginning of each shift: Roberto would say that Rosie was ‘an angel’, that she wasted in the office, and that she should go down and work in the club, ‘where the
real
money is’. Her answer was always the same. But not tonight. Tonight was different. All Rosie could think about is how she was going to get the money for the mortgage and Ruby’s trip. She knew it would break her daughter’s heart if she couldn’t go. Rosie stared over at Roberto, deep in thought.

‘Okay then,’ she said, finally.

‘What?’ Roberto eyes grew visibly wider.

‘Okay… just for tonight.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Just to help you out. But you’ll have to show me what’s what… you know, the ropes.’

‘Oh! You won’t regret it,’ he cried. ‘And it’s
nothing
. Just act. You’re an actress, aren’t you? All you have to do is make out you’re “Luscious Lena the Hoochie Momma”.’

Rosie smiled, and shook her head. ‘Okay, Luscious Lena I am.’

Roberto clapped his hands together and jumped up and down, just like an excited child. ‘Follow me,’ he exclaimed, with a wave of his hand.

He led her downstairs to the dimly-lit bar and through to the dressing room reserved for the hostess girls. Kristina, wearing a transparent body stocking, her modesty barely preserved by a smattering of sequins, looked up quizzically as she saw her friend enter. She gave Rosie a reassuring smile as Roberto explained, then gave Rosie a hug, and her costume for the night.

Although she felt undeniably uncomfortable in her new role, Rosie shelved her morals for a few hours and got down to work. She kept reminding herself what Roberto had told her – that it was just like acting. Before she knew it, it was midnight, the club was packed, and the shows were already under way. Within the space of just three hours, even though she had consciously held back, she was surprised to see that she had earned almost £200 in tips.

And the money kept coming: by the end of the night, Rosie sat in the dressing room with £600 in front of her. She tucked it away in her bag and went to find Roberto. He was by the bar, submerged in darkness.

‘Is it that time already?’ he said, checking his watch. ‘How time flies when you are enjoying yourself. Well, you’ve done a great job, my darling. It’s just a pity you’re not topping the bill
every
night.’

‘Every night?’ said Rosie, cocking her head and giving him a look. ‘I told you, Roberto, this was a one-off. That’s it. Done. One night only.’ Inside, she felt a growing sense of shame.

‘You sure?’ said Roberto, raising his eyebrows. ‘Oh, okay, I know… one night. I can see I’m wasting my breath.’ Then, with an exaggerated look of disappointment, added ‘Off you go, then. See you tomorrow.’

‘See you.’

‘And Rosie, thanks again for helping me out, okay? I really appreciate it.’

Sitting in the mini-cab on the way home Rosie stared blankly out at the passing streets. It was dark and dank, drizzling with that fine rain she hated so much. Although what happened at the club wasn’t as bad as she had feared, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that she’d let herself down. She felt cold inside, tainted by some of the things she had just witnessed. She hoped that most of the events of the evening would soon fade from her memory… especially the awkward 20 minutes or so when that businessman had tried to persuade her to ‘accompany’ him to his hotel.
Has it come to this
? she asked herself. She consoled herself by switching her thoughts to Ruby – and how she was going to break the news that she could afford the trip, after all. They could even go shopping on Saturday, with all that money. But, try as she might, Rosie couldn’t get rid of the grimy, cold feeling in the depths of her stomach. And she knew what that feeling was: she was ashamed of herself.

Once she was home, she ran a bath to help her relax. Those exotic oils that Aunt Madge had given her for Christmas, she thought, might make her feel clean again. Sitting on the edge of the bath, wrapped in a white fluffy towel, she watching the red oil swirl around in the steaming water. Eyes heavy with fatigue, heart heavy with shame, Rosie put her head in her hands and wept.

three

L
ate the next morning, the red light on her answerphone blinked a summons. Rosie, her eyelids still heavy from the night before, reached out and hit the playback button.
Please, no more bad news
, she said to herself, as the first message began to play.

To her relief it was her acting agent, Annie: ‘Hi, hun!’ she chirped, ‘Can you give me a buzz as soon as you get this. It’s a bit last minute, but there’s something come up. As soon as you get this, okay? ’Bye.’

The answerphone announced ‘
Message 2
’. Rosie recognised the voice immediately. ‘Hey Rosie, it’s me, Stevie. I’ll be in London next week. Can you and Ruby-two-shoes meet me at Mum’s? I’ll treat you both to lunch. I’ve got some great news. Gotta run, sweetie. As they say in the USA, have a nice day!’

Rosie tapped the button, turning the machine off. The sound of Stevie’s voice had stopped her in her tracks, washed over her in a wave of nostalgia, making Rosie feel sort of happy and sad and the same time. God, she missed Stevie… ‘Stephanie’ to everyone else, but always ‘Stevie’ to her.

Stevie was more like a sister to Rosie than a cousin. They had been brought up together by Auntie Madge after Rosie’s mother and father had been killed in a car accident. The two girls had slept in the same bed in a cramped bedroom in the grimy high-rise block of flats, and that sense of closeness had never disappeared.

Like Rosie, Stevie had survived an abusive relationship. Her ex-husband had a real darkness in him, and he had knocked poor Stevie from pillar to post. After a long, frank discussion with Rosie, Stevie had left him and moved back in with Auntie Madge… but, as it turned out, she didn’t stay for long. One night she borrowed Rosie’s most sexy dress and went to an exclusive night club in Soho. There she got talking to Joe, a well-heeled American professor who had worked at Harvard University. Joe was rich, handsome; he had it all. It was love at first sight and within two months Stevie had packed up and moved to Sarasota-Bradenton, on the west coast of Florida. It
must
have been love, Rosie thought at the time, as there’s no other reason Stevie would have left behind her beloved Shih-Tzu dog, Dibble, for Aunt Madge to look after. Even though that dog was the psycho dog from hell, it was a living, yapping reminder of her friend in Florida – so Rosie was always pleased to see it. Aunt Madge idolised that animal, and wouldn’t have a bad word said against it, no matter how it behaved.

Within seven months of moving to the States, Stevie had a whopping great diamond engagement ring sparkling on her finger; and within a year she was an all-American bride… with breast implants, hair extensions, the works.

Of course, Rosie was happy for her friend but when Stevie had left for America it broke her heart. And Ruby was distraught, too, missing her godmother deeply. Sure, they kept in touch by email and the odd phone call, but it wasn’t the same as having her round the corner. So, the prospect of seeing her in just a week put a huge smile on Rosie’s face.

She grabbed her mobile and sent Stevie a quick text: ‘yes please!!!xxx’. After pressing ‘send’, Rosie looked up to see the light on the answerphone light still flashing. She pressed ‘play’ again, and the smile on her face was instantly replaced by a look of sheer terror.

‘Hello, Rosie.’

The blood in her veins was suddenly turned to ice. The gruff, menacing, and familiar voice on the machine stung at her ears like a trapped wasp.

‘So you think that’s it, do you? That you can just walk away like that? Nobody leaves Johnny Mullins…
nobody
. You understand?’ She could hear Johnny take a deep, rasping gulp of air, before he continued. ‘A friend of mine – a big fella he is – will be out on home leave soon. I told him about you, what you’ve done to me. And you know what? He wasn’t too happy. Oh, no. He said he might come round and say hello. Not sure when he’ll be able to pop round and see you, but he’ll come all right. Look after yourself.’

‘
End of message
,’ came the robotic voice from the machine. ‘
To listen to the message again, press
–’

Rosie hit the button and backed away. Her heart was beating so fast it felt like it could explode. She knew the nastiness was coming – she’d been married to Johnny long enough to know that there would be repercussions for breaking it off with him – but
this
? Setting one of his heavies on her? She hadn’t, in her darkest nightmares, expected that.

Rosie took a deep breath and collapsed, shaking, into a chair. Inside her head, through the mist of fear, came a voice, strong and resolute. She was not going to let Johnny, or any of his so-called friends, get to her. She was going to be strong, for Ruby’s sake. She was going to move on with her life. Step one, she was going to get up, and return her agent’s call.

‘Annie, its Rosie.’ Her voice was still shaking.

‘Rosie, where have you been?’ Annie said. ‘I’m sorry, but you’ve missed the boat now…’

‘What?’

‘Channel 4 was holding auditions for this sit-com early this morning and wanted to see you for it. You should have called last night, darling. I assumed you weren’t interested.’