Confessions of a Lapdancer

Dublin thanked me and raised the glass to his lips to take a slug when a hand appeared from nowhere and slapped the drink to the ground.

‘I think you should serve your customers before you serve the fucking heavies!’ Desmond spat. ‘Or we not good enough for you?’

He was drunk, and high on something perhaps. I was scared but didn’t let him see. I stood straight-backed and looked him in the eye. ‘What can I get you, sir?’ I asked gently. Remember, ladies, the punter is always right. Especially when you know he has a switchblade in his boot.

‘Get us a bottle of champagne. Bring a glass for yourself too.’ I looked at Linda. I was allowed to accept drinks from the customers. Though not to dance, of course. She nodded, tonight was not the night to say no to Desmond. Dublin watched, eyes like gimlets, ready to take action should it come to it. I desperately hoped it wouldn’t, as Dublin wouldn’t have stood a chance against these four. I brought over the bottle and Desmond patted the banquette beside him. I sat down. Tony watched me from across the table, his face unreadable. I saw he had a cut over one eye. A big night for everyone.

Desmond poured five glasses, overfilling them and finishing the bottle, which he tossed over the back of the banquette. ‘A toast,’ he said, eyes fixed on mine. ‘To getting what you want.’

‘To getting what you want,’ the gangsters chorused while I mouthed the words. I knew too well that getting what you wanted wasn’t always the best thing for you. I sipped the champagne and stared back at him coolly. He didn’t seem to like the fact I wasn’t simpering like some grateful, first-time hooker.

‘Dance for me,’ he said.

‘I’m not a dancer,’ I lied. Though, strangely, this time I wanted to do it. Not for him, but for myself, and maybe for Tony.

He laughed. ‘Oh, I think you are, Jackie. I think you’re quite the little ballerina.’ He watched me react to this, champagne dripping off his double chin.

I gasped in shock, despite myself. How on earth did he know that? My eyes flicked over to Linda, who shook her head slightly, as bemused as I. Desmond had obviously been doing some research. Hardly anyone knew about my past. But why would he take the time?

‘Now dance, Darcey-bloody-Bussell!’ he roared. For the third time I looked at Linda who nodded.

I stood as someone put ‘You Can Leave Your Hat On’ on the stereo. The opening bars thumped out as I walked to the pole and I closed my eyes, feeling the music in my muscles. I stretched languorously as I leaned back from the pole, imagining I was in Guy’s arms in the studio. As the music warmed up I spun and lifted a long leg up against the pole.

Then the chorus hit and I took off my top in one swift movement. There was a sharp intake of breath. No one had asked me to take off my clothes but to me it was all part of the act. I opened my eyes, and as I swivelled around the pole, humping it languidly, I saw Jen and one of the other girls – Amber – watching me, open-mouthed, that hungry look back on Jen’s face. Linda was watching too, perhaps wondering if she should have let me dance before. Then the gangsters’ table swung past my vision. Desmond’s fat face leered at me, along with two of his minions, but Tony’s attention was focused on his boss, a look of pure hatred on his face. Then as I flipped around and hung back off the pole, I saw Dublin, who winked at me. I smiled back. I was dancing. And it felt like I was floating on air.

The future was uncertain, the atmosphere in the place heavy and oppressive. Things were set to change, I knew that, but just at that moment, I felt free. I felt in control, and I felt as happy as I’d been since Guy and I’d been thrown out of the Royal Ballet.

It didn’t last of course. Desmond summoned me over and asked me to give him a lap dance. I hesitated while he waved two fifties at me. Ultimately, it wasn’t the money that persuaded me. I didn’t doubt that he was the type of man to punch out at a woman if she didn’t comply. I climbed on his lap as ‘Danger Zone’ from Top Gun started up. I loved dancing to this song and I knew exactly what to do. I’d watched Jen and the other girls do it often enough. I tried not to grind too hard on him but he kept shoving his pelvis up at me and eventually I just rode him, trying to think of something else, but feeling his dick jabbing into me. I pushed my tits up together and brushed them across his lips. I watched in thinly-disguised contempt as he drooled down his chin.

‘In the back room,’ he grunted.

I froze. Don’t know why but I just hadn’t expected this. What else was he going to ask me to do? Linda spoke up. ‘No, she’s not going back there. She’s my niece, for Christ’s sake.’

Desmond swivelled and shot her a sneering glance. ‘She may be your niece, but she’s also my employee. And I say she goes into the back room with me.’

Linda looked gobsmacked.

‘Oh, didn’t I mention?’ he added, laughing now. ‘I own this place now. Part of our little “business transaction” earlier involved the deeds of this place changing hands. Poor old Col won’t be needing it anymore, not where he’s going.’ Desmond grabbed his drink in one hand, and my wrist in the other. He started to drag me off to the back room.

‘She’s not going,’ Linda said firmly. Dublin stood and moved towards us. Desmond snapped his fingers and his two goons rose to their feet and moved towards Dublin menacingly. He stood firm. As the crooks came near, he unleashed a massive round-house kick that sent one of them sprawling and took the other completely by surprise, unsettling him and leaving an opening. Dublin punched him once, twice in the face and the goon staggered back. But by that stage the first one had recovered and leapt on Dublin, bringing him crashing to the sticky carpet. One of the girls screamed. Jen raced up and began trying to pull the thug off. But the second stepped up and backhanded her across the face, before kneeling down and punching Dublin repeatedly in the face as the other held him down.

‘Stop!’ a voice called out firmly. The goons stopped their punching and turned to look at the owner of the voice. Tony.

Desmond looked at him in surprise. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Don’t stop. Give him a good working over.’

But the goons hesitated. And Tony must have realised this was his opportunity. Tony walked over to Desmond, his eyes flicking over to me for just an instant, and said calmly, ‘Let the lady go, Des.’

Des stared back in amazement. He hadn’t seen this coming. ‘Lady?’ he sputtered. ‘This ain’t no lady. This …’ But he never got to finish as he was suddenly lying on the floor with one of his own teeth in his windpipe, choking him. He coughed and turned a dark shade of purple. Tony merely walked up to him and kicked him hard in the solar plexus. The tooth shot out and rattled across a nearby table.

Tony made a signal to the goons, who seemed to have been expecting this. Maybe, like me, they were just waiting for Tony to make his move. They lifted the dazed Desmond, still struggling for breath, and hauled him out the back door.

‘What’s gonna happen to him?’ I asked.

‘You don’t want to know,’ Tony replied, rubbing his bruised knuckles. ‘He wasn’t a very nice man, but then again, neither am I.’

I eyed him up and smiled. ‘You rescued this lady, you can’t be all bad.’

He thought for a minute, wondering if I was flirting, then smiled, almost shyly. ‘Look,’ he said. ‘I’ve got to chat to Linda for a bit. You gonna hang around?’

‘I live here,’ I said coolly, and walked away, swinging my behind. I could feel those piercing eyes watching me go.

I picked up my top and went back behind the bar, where I felt more comfortable. Maybe I shouldn’t ever have stepped out from its protective embrace. I realised I was still shaking and poured myself a stiff drink. I got one for Jen and Amber too who wanted to know what Tony had said to me.

The goons came back, without Desmond, and joined in the chat with Linda and Tony, who I guessed was our new boss.

Later, Tony came over to speak to me. ‘Are you OK?’ he asked.

I shrugged. ‘No broken bones, just a slightly bruised wrist.’

He gazed into my eyes, but I felt ready to meet that gaze. I had nothing to be ashamed of. Did I? What did he want from me?

‘Let me buy you a drink,’ he said. Now ladies, from the look of you, you’ve probably heard every chat-up line devised by man. Some of you look like most of them might have worked, too. But as far as I’m concerned, ‘Let me buy you a drink,’ is all it takes. It’s simple, it’s forceful without being creepy and it gets the message across.

You might think I should have grabbed that drink with two hands and without a second thought. I fancied him, and he had money. He could have rescued me, taken me away somewhere and installed me in a nice house somewhere, maybe Epping.

But I didn’t. I stood and looked back into those eyes for a long time, thinking it over. I didn’t mind the fact he was a gangster for myself, but I had other … concerns, shall we say?

‘Trust me,’ I told him. ‘You wouldn’t be interested in a girl like me.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that,’ he said. But just then Linda asked me to help her with the till – it was forever sticking – and with a last, sad smile I left Tony standing in the middle of the bar and walked away.

And that’s storytelling hour over, ladies. Now those of you who think you can handle the ride, in more ways than one, stick around and we’ll audition you. Those of who ain’t up to it: leave now.

Chapter Seven

Her story over, Jackie was suddenly back to business. ‘Right, ladies, I want you warming up. Forward and side bends, please, then stretch out your quads and hamstrings. I don’t want any injuries on your first day. Roll your shoulders and start doing some hip circles …’

Some of the girls seemed to be struggling even with the warm-up moves; they didn’t have much chance of getting through the session if they weren’t flexible.

‘Now I want you doing some standing squats – it’s important to have strong leg muscles for this work,’ said Jackie, upping the tempo.

Shortly afterwards, she put on Beyoncé full blast and got us doing a high-intensity aerobic dance workout in front of the mirrors and didn’t let us rest for a good fifteen minutes.

I was gasping for breath by the end of it.

Gabi and Makani had struggled to keep up with the steps but Irena, even though she looked skinny enough to snap in half, had managed to get through it.

‘OK, ladies, take five, have a drink of water and join me at the poles when you’re ready,’ said Jackie. ‘If that exhausted you, your fitness levels need to be improved. You need more stamina than that to get through a night shift at the Pearl.’