Changing Perspectives Page 8

  Lisa had hit her hard; hit her in anger to hurt her. She couldn’t have stayed after that, anyway. Anger had no part in it. That Lisa was genuinely upset, Dani was sorry about. But there wasn’t anything she could do. Lisa would get over it, eventually. She might even forgive her, sometime.

  And now, it was sometime between one and two in the morning. She was standing outside Camila’s building gazing up at the dark facade. Windows gaping, no lights on anywhere. Camila’s flat had been on the second—or was it the third?—floor. It faced onto the park, she was sure of that. She wasn’t sure of anything else.

  The police car slowed and stopped. It had been past before. Two policemen got out; they put their hats on.

  “So,” said the taller one, “haven’t you got a home to go to?”

  Dani didn’t reply. She continued to stare at the building, as if it held the answer.

  “You can’t stay here,” said the other one. It was a woman.

  “Why not?”

  “It’s the middle of the night. You can’t just stand around on street corners.”

  “Why not?” Dani repeated. “It’s a free country, isn’t it?”

  “Have you got any money?”

  “What is this? A mugging?”

  He spoke to his partner. “What do you think? Drunk? Vagrant? Escaped loony?” His partner shrugged. “Well,” he continued, “if you won’t move along of your own accord, you had better come with us.” He put a hand on her arm.

  Dani looked at the hand. “You’ve got to be kidding.” She shook him off and started running. He caught her easily and after a brief struggle managed to snap handcuffs on her wrists and drag her over to the car. She spat in his face as he bent to shove her into the back seat. She had seen that in a film once. It wouldn’t do any good, but it made her feel better.

  At the station she refused to give her name. They put her in a cell to think about it. A little later she was strip-searched and given a once-over by a doctor. When she was returned to her cell, she was amused to see she was designated “unknown vg”…vegetarian, very good, vagina? A little while later, a WPC came in with a cup of sweetened tea.

  “Where did you get the cut?” she asked, looking at Dani’s face.

  Dani just smiled. “Thanks for the tea.” The woman shrugged and left.

  More time passed, slowly.

  Apparently they weren’t going to allow her to make a phone call. Who would she call, anyway? Gordon would be horrified at the thought of setting foot in a police station. Lisa wasn’t speaking to her. She had few other people she could call on to bail her out. Invoking her brother’s name wouldn’t improve the situation. Best to just sit it out and see what happened. They would let her go eventually.

  She settled down on the hard mattress, resting with her hands behind her head. It wasn’t the best accommodation, but she’d been in pub toilets that smelt worse.

  Dani was sorry she had upset Lisa. They went back a long way. Back to Dani’s first year living in London. Sometimes, looking back, Dani couldn’t believe her luck that night, her third one on the streets and down to the last of the money she’d stolen from her dad, after she’d kicked him in the groin, leaving him writhing on the floor of her bedroom in pain.

  Leaving home had been on the cards for some time. Neither of her parents really cared for her. She was their first born, unplanned, so her mother blamed Dani for her being stuck in a loveless marriage. Her father, initially disappointed she wasn’t a boy, was then aggrieved when she didn’t behave like a little girl. When she reached her teens and hit puberty, he couldn’t grasp why she didn’t have a boyfriend. After putting up with his inept fumblings, escalating to squeezing her breasts or grabbing at her crotch whenever he could, she’d finally told him she was only interested in girls. That tipped him over the edge. After a week of screaming abuse at her, calling her names she didn’t fully understand, he came to her room that last night, with one aim in mind…to give her a taste of what she was missing.

  The walls of the cell and the previous occupant’s stench faded out as her memory of the fateful encounter that changed her life formed clearly in front of her closed eyelids.

  …A tall, well-dressed woman stepped out of a black cab and walked towards the steps of the building where Dani was sheltering.

  “I’m sorry, but you can’t stay here.”

  Dani’s teeth were chattering as she tried to form words. “Nowhere else to go.”

  “Come with me.” The tone was commanding, and without thinking Dani obeyed.

  She followed the woman into the ancient lift. As the gate shut with a clang and the contraption started to rise, creaking its way up two floors, the only thought that came into her head was that they were the same height.

  Revived after a bath, a hot meal, and a tumbler of whisky, in that order, Dani started to take in the luxurious nature of her surroundings. She was wearing a borrowed bathrobe, and only when her benefactor sat down next to her, did she wonder what would be required of her in return.

  “What’s your name, honey?”

  “Dani.”

  “Is that short for anything?”

  “No, just Dani. My parents were hoping for a boy.”

  The woman gave her an appraising look. “Well, I think they did better than that.” She reached out and stroked Dani’s cheek. “A good-looking baby butch.”

  Dani’s experience with girls had only reached the kissing and breast-fondling stage. Hurried glances at her father’s stash of porn gave her an idea of what could be done, but she hadn’t been able to put any of it into practice. She wondered if this is what would be expected of her now.

  “My name’s Bea, sweetie. Well, to my clients I’m Mistress Bea. I know you’re wondering if I want you to have sex with me. The answer is no. However, instead of sexual favours, I would like a companion to go out to dinner with, see plays, enjoy the delights of the city without complications. A handsome young butch like yourself fits the bill nicely. Tomorrow we will go and see Charles. He will outfit you properly. That is, if you agree to this arrangement.”

  Dani didn’t hesitate to say yes. What other option did she have? A few days on the streets had shown her that the world wasn’t kind to homeless beggars, particularly young ones.

  Bea’s patronage allowed Dani to explore the part of herself she’d kept hidden for so many years, knowing it wasn’t normal. Learning from Bea how to pass as a man on the street satisfied one of her cravings. The other was taken care of a month or so into their “arrangement” when Bea introduced Dani to her young protege, Lisa….

  †

  After what felt like days, she was taken out of the cell and put into an interview room. Two men followed her in and identified themselves as detectives. One of them turned the tape on. The other started to question her.

  “What’s your name?”

  “What are you holding me for?”

  “We will ask the questions.”

  “What do you suspect me of?”

  “We will get on to the difficult questions later. Right now we just want to know who you are.”

  “I don’t have to say anything. Your colleagues picked me off the street. For no reason at all. I was just minding my own business.”

  “You resisted arrest.”

  “What was I being arrested for? No one gave me the speech. You know the one…about what you say may be given in evidence—”

  “We have reason to believe that illegal acts—”

  “What acts? I was on my own. Oh, I get it. Because I’m dressed like this; because I have this cut on my face? Is that it? Have I been asleep and woken up twenty years later into a police state?”

  The two men looked uncomfortable. They were saved from answering by a knock on the door. One went out into the hall; the other switched the tape off. His mate returned almost immediately. “You’re free to go,” he said without looking at Dani.

  “Oh, great. You pick me off the street for no good reason. You hold me here for hours, strip
-search me, give me one lousy cup of tea, and now you’re not even going to charge me with anything. You’ll be hearing from my solicitor.”

  The cop shrugged and held the door open for her. He obviously didn’t think she had either the means or the wherewithal to hire a solicitor.

  †

  It was 9:23 by the station clock when she walked out onto the street after collecting her belt and studded collar from the desk sergeant. She hadn’t been paying attention when they brought her in. She looked around for a sign. Poland Street. How convenient—only three minutes’ away from the office.

  Gordon’s secretary, Maria, had put the coffee on. Dani walked in and helped herself to a cup. Maria stared at her in horror.

  “I don’t suppose you could be a sweetie and get me a bacon roll?” Dani asked.

  “No, I could not. You’re a disgrace. How dare you come in here looking like that,” she screeched.

  Gordon appeared in the doorway of his office. “Maria!” He looked at Dani. “Maria, It’s okay. I’ll deal with this.” He took a tenner out of his wallet. “I’d like a bacon roll too, and get whatever you want for yourself. Okay?”

  She pulled herself together, took the money, and left.

  Gordon looked at Dani again. “You better come in and tell me all about it.”

  She drained her cup and followed him into his office. “I’ve spent the night at the Poland Street nick,” she announced.

  “I guessed it was either that or a cardboard box. So what is that cut on your cheek and the marks on your wrists? Police brutality?”

  Dani looked at her wrists. She had forgotten about them; must have happened at Lisa’s. “I should have been so lucky. Brutality would have been interesting. It was just so fucking boring. Eight hours in a cell, one cup of tea, three offers of a smoke, a strip-search, and no explanation at the end of it. Just piss off, you can go now.”

  “So how did you get those injuries?”

  “I didn’t tell them, so why should I tell you?”

  “Because I’m buying you breakfast.”

  “Okay.” She looked him straight in the eyes. He looked away first. “I upset my lover. She was holding a whip at the time. Not a good move.”

  Gordon sat silent, staring at her. He was shocked, she could tell. He knew about her preferences, but he didn’t like being confronted with the evidence. He shifted uncomfortably in his well-padded chair. “Look, Dani. You agreed you wouldn’t bring your private life to the office. The black eyes the other week were bad enough, but this…you saw how Maria reacted.”

  “Maria’s a tight-arsed little bitch.”

  “Maybe. But she’s only paid to type letters and make coffee.”

  “Yeah. She makes good coffee. Could you get me another cup? I’d go myself but I don’t want to frighten anyone else.”

  She stared at the picture on the wall behind his desk, glad of the peace and quiet, until Gordon returned with the coffee and the bacon rolls. They ate in silence. Dani spoke first. “I don’t have any money. That’s why I came here,” she said after she had finished eating.

  Gordon was still brooding. “Most people stay at home on Sunday evenings, have a bath, watch telly. What the hell were you doing?”

  “I’m sure you don’t really want the details. Just relaxing, in my own way.”

  “You’re a fucking pervert.”

  “Thanks. If you’ll lend me the taxi fare, I will go home and make myself presentable.”

  He shook his head. “A bath isn’t going to make you any more presentable.” Gordon threw two twenties across the desk. “Melissa was right. I’ll get my solicitor to sort it out. I don’t ever want to see you on these premises again.”

  Dani picked up the money. “I have one word for you. Redmond.”

  “Fuck you!”

  “No, thanks.” She stood and threw the money back at him. “I’ll walk instead.”

  Maria was studying something fascinating on her desk as Dani went past. Amanda called to her as she walked through Reception. She stopped and looked at her. The receptionist stared at her face but didn’t comment. “Message for you.” She handed her a telephone slip.

  “Thanks.” Dani stuffed it in her pocket and stalked out, setting off in the direction of Oxford Street. She didn’t really fancy the walk back to Chiswick, so she wandered aimlessly along, looking in shop windows. How long would it take to get the fare if she begged? Several days judging by the coins in the busker’s hat. Mugging? People were giving her as wide a berth as possible on the crowded pavement. She would have to go back to Lisa’s, collect her watch and pawn it.

  Lisa lived near Regent’s Park; it didn’t take her long to get there. The walk along Marylebone High Street was pleasant enough. She banged on the door; the lazy bitch was probably still in bed, she thought. But Lisa opened the door before Dani could knock again. She was dressed in street clothes and looked like she was on her way out.

  “What are you doing here?” she said coldly, her eyes flicking briefly over Dani’s bruised face.

  “I left my watch behind.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I need it. For the taxi fare home.”

  “You had better come in and get it, then.” She stayed in the doorway; Dani brushed past her and headed straight to the bedroom. Her watch was where she had left it. She snapped it onto her wrist.

  “So who did you spend the night with?” Lisa asked.

  “Do you care?”

  “Sandy saw you at a club. Said you seemed to be popular.”

  “Yeah. But I left alone. In fact, the cops picked me up and I spent the night at the nick. So unless you count the WPC who strip-searched me, I have been utterly faithful to you, my darling.”

  Their eyes met. With her high heels on, the top of Lisa’s head still only reached Dani’s shoulders. “Don’t you ‘darling’ me, you bastard!” she hissed.

  Dani grinned at her. “Does that mean you still love me?”

  “Damned right it does,” Lisa said calmly, then slapped her hard across the cheek, clocking a bullseye on the cut. Dani’s eyes watered. Apparently, there was no rush to get home after all.

  †

  Camila watched the presentation intro again. It wasn’t her job to comment on creative decisions, but she did think opening the conference with Tina Turner belting out “Simply the Best” was a bit over the top. At least Eric had vetoed the first suggestion from the marketing department—Yazz singing, “The Only Way is Up”.

  Her slides were all set for the event. She had supervised the insertion of the 35mm transparencies into the carousel and asked James to run through them on the projector to make sure they were all placed correctly in the tray.

  Carl Redmond had laughed at her, saying she needed to use the latest technology. James could have produced her slides on the computer using their recently installed PowerPoint software.

  “Belts and braces,” she’d told him. “Remember last year, when the laptop crashed in the middle of Eric’s opening speech.”

  “We’re prepared for that this year. Three laptops and all the handouts printed. Who were the flowers from?”

  She’d given him a small smile. “Nice try, Carl.”

  He had left her office none the wiser, and she planned to keep it that way. She was determined to keep thoughts of Dani at a distance. Over the weekend, that hadn’t worked out as planned. Images from Friday evening kept intruding—Dani looking incredibly handsome in the tailored suit, raising a glass of champagne to her in the restaurant with a smile that promised more than the sharing of food and drink.

  When the preconference meeting finished, she returned to her office intending to finish the Berlin proposal, but after half an hour she hadn’t made any progress, staring at a blank page on the screen.

  All weekend she had been wrestling with conflicting thoughts on whether or not she wanted to see Dani again. Her mind was telling her to forget it, write it off as an interesting interlude and move on. Her body had other ideas. There was no
mistaking the response in her lower regions to Dani’s closeness and touch while they were dancing.

  Giving up on Berlin, she dialled MBE’s number. She had left a message in the morning, telling the girl it was an urgent matter. She hadn’t received a call back before the meeting or any messages afterwards. The agency’s receptionist sounded subdued when she answered the phone and when Camila asked to be put through to Dani, she lowered her voice further.

  “Um. She’s gone.”

  “What do you mean? When will she be back?”

  “She won’t. She’s left the company.”

  “Oh, that’s very sudden. Why?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t say. Would you like to speak to someone else in the art department?”

  “Not at the moment. Thank you.” Camila put the receiver down and stared at her blank screen again. What on earth was going on?

  Her phone rang and she snatched it up eagerly before registering that it was an internal call—Eric, asking when he could expect to see a draft of the Berlin proposal. Promising to have it done before she went home for the day, Camila pushed aside thoughts of Dani and concentrated on working through the figures she would need to present when negotiating with the Germans.

  She didn’t get back to her flat until after seven. She kicked off her heels, poured herself a glass of wine, and collapsed onto the sofa. Camila closed her eyes, expecting to see the numbers that had been dancing through her brain for the last few hours, but Dani’s face appeared instead. That nervous smile she’d caught a few times. What was she worried about? Had she been planning to leave MBE even before they’d met to talk about the T-shirts?

  Camila opened her eyes and sat up with a start. Dani had given her a card at that brief meeting in Flounders. A card with her phone number on the back. She leapt to her feet and retrieved her briefcase from the hallway. After searching through all the pockets, she resorted to emptying everything out. The card wasn’t there.