A Question of Interpretation

“Wonderful to meet you Becky. The pictures on the website really don’t do you justice” Colin said rising to pull out a chair for his date.

“I’m sure you say that to all the girls” Becky said smiling warmly at Colin.

“No I always say what I mean and you, Becky look absolutely stunning in that blue dress”.

“Thank you” Becky replied, “This is a nice restaurant, I’ve never been here before. I just love traditional restaurants, those oak beams look to be several centuries old”.

“Yes its rare to find a place like this that hasn’t been ruined by some god awful corporate chain. The boards of those places should be lined up against the wall and shot”.

“Shooting is a little extreme. Making them eat in their own restaurants every day for the remainder of their lives would be sufficient punishment”.

“I’ll settle for that because I’m opposed to the death penalty on principle” Colin said smiling broadly. “What would you like to eat or would you like a little longer to choose?”

“The roast venison looks delicious”.

“Good choice. I’ve had the venison several times here and its always been excellent. Would you like to choose the wine?”

“I’m happy with a bottle of the house white”.

“The house white it is then” Colin said signalling to the waiter.



Bret ascended the stairs. Christ the flat was on floor 21 and he was only on the 7th floor. Typical the lift was out of order and as was so often the case with these council built 60’s tower blocks the stairs stank of urine. Thank god he didn’t live in a place like this.



“So, Becky have you met many men through the agency?” Colin asked as he poured wine into their glasses.

“This is our evening darling. It doesn’t matter about anyone else” Becky said taking Colin’s hand, “lets not spoil it by talking about other people”.



Thank Christ he was there. Bret pressed the door bell. It was opened by a lady in her late fourties or early fifties with iron grey hair.

“Come in Bret. How are you?” she said closing the door behind him.

“I’m fine thanks Molly. How are you? Who’s working?”

“We have a lovely new black girl, Caroline. She’s petite, just five feet with long black hair and 36d cup. Monica’s also working”.

“I’ll see Caroline”.

“OK but she’s with a customer at the moment. Would you like a drink while you wait?”

“No thanks” Bret said trying to make himself comfortable on the ancient sofa. Something sharp pearced his skin.

“Fuck not a bloody needle?” he said jumping to his feet.

“We don’t allow drugs here. You know that Bret”.

Bret glanced at the sofa. A rusty metal spring protruded through the threadbare fabric.

“You should get the bloody thing replaced!”

“Sorry Bret I’ll speak to the owner”.

Bret nodded. He knew that nothing would happen. The next time he visited the same sofa would be standing in that filthy corner. Did they never clean this place!



“I love Keats Ode to a Nightingale. Every time I read it I’m reduced to tears”.

Colin raised his eyebrows.

“You weren’t expecting a girl like me to derive pleasure from literature. I’m the kind of lady who reads chick lit or those trashy novels you pick up in airport book shops am I? Is that what you think of me?” Becky said. She smiled but beneath the smile Colin could detect something else, was it sorrow?

“I must admit to being surprised but, of course there is no reason why you shouldn’t enjoy reading great literature”.

“I read English literature at Notingham university. You look shocked. What is an educated girl like me doing in a business like this. That is what you are asking yourself isn’t it?” They both spoke in low voices but given the noise emanating from their fellow diners it would have been almost impossible for their conversation to have been overheard.

“Yes I must confess that I was”.

“I need to pay off my student loan. Most jobs don’t pay the kind of money to clear it quickly. OK I could pay it off gradually, through my taxes but I want to get a mortgage on a decent place and I don’t want the loan hanging over me. Plus, if I’m honest I like nice clothes and fine dining” Becky said.

“I’m sorry if I offended you”.

“You didn’t darling” Becky said allowing her right foot to rub discreetly against Colin’s leg under the table.



A door opened. Bret could hear muffled voices followed by the closing of the front door.

“Caroline there is a customer for you”.

Caroline entered and without speaking motioned to Bret to follow her. Closing the bedroom door she asked

“What do you want?”



Bret handed over the money and undressed. Wordlessly Caroline followed his example and began to massage his back.

“Turn over” she said after only 5 minutes, “Come quick for me babe there is another client waiting”. As she spoke Caroline rolled a durex down over Bret’s erect penis. straddling him she started to sway her hips rapidly in circular motions.

In the distance the sound of running feet could be heard. A crash of breaking wood reached the couple’s ears. Caroline leapt off Bret just as the bedroom door burst open admitting two men in police uniform.

“I’m arresting you sir on suspicion of paying for sex. You do not have to say anything but anything you do say will be taken down and may be used in evidence. Do you understand?”

Bret desperately attempted to cover his privates with the bed sheet. This couldn’t be happening. He would wake up in a minute at home in his own bed. Bret had heard about the new law which criminalised those who paid for sex, however he had taken the view that police resources being extremely tight the force was highly unlikely to go out of it’s way to enforce the legislation.

“But what about her?” Bret asked pointing to Caroline.

“You haven’t answered my question sir. Do you understand the caution?”

“Yes, but what about the girl, aren’t you going to arrest her?”

“The law says that she is a victim sir so no we aren’t going to arrest her”.

Bret looked stunned.

“But that isn’t justice, its fucking Alice in Wonderland! Everything was consensual”.

“I don’t make the laws sir. I just enforce them. Now just get some clothes on as you will need to accompany us down to the station”.



“I’ll need to go soon darling” Becky said giving Colin a kiss on the cheek, “can I use your shower please?”

“Of course. There are clean towels in the airing cupboard”.

“Thanks sweetheart. Don’t get up, I’ll take a shower and let myself out. I hope to see you again soon” Becky said climbing out of the bed.

Colin lay there listening to the sound of the shower. The agency was a good one. They always provided top quality girls and the ability to pay by credit card prior to the bookings meant that you didn’t have the unpleasant task of handing over brown envelopes to your date. Under the new legislation what he was doing was technically illegal. However in the unlikely event that anyone did ask questions he and the girl would say that they had met through the agency which provided dates for social events. They had enjoyed one another’s company and had ended up in bed. Payment was however (as stated on the agency’s site) for companionship only, consequently no offence had been committed. Alice in Wonderland? Perhaps but no prosecutions had taken place of clients using escorts and Colin very much doubted that any such prosecution would meet with success.


The end

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