January 30 1927
On Tuesday night I decided it was time to land a bigger fish so I dressed neatly and hopped a bus to Russell Square. Not a place for rough men looking for sex. But all men are looking for sex in some way or other.
I arched my back as I walked along placing one foot in front of the other with deliberate pride. I am wicked. I fixed my attention on a pudgy man walking down the street in the opposite direction. I looked at him like I was going to eat him. He stared back at me in confused fear. Then I smiled at him and the confusion on his face turned to awe.
‘Mr Lawrence.’ I said ‘How lovely to see you, you naughty boy, what are you doing out after dark?’
He stammered that I must be mistaken, that he was not Mr Lawrence.
‘Oh dear’ I apologised and said I should wear my glasses. I watch his little pink tongue rubbing against his lower teeth like a piglet wanting to get our of it’s pen.
I waited for him to try and engage me, but he was too stunned and slow. I didn’t want to make the first move, but he looked as though he’d never spoken to a woman. I began to just babble away at him holding his gaze like a hypnotist. I went on about how dreadfully cold it is and how I would so love a hot drink, but it wasn’t really proper for a lady to go into a cafe at night alone. What would people think? Would he care to accompany me? His eyes darted about like prisoners looking for a way out, but his curiosity had hold of his nose and dragged him along with me.
We had a cozy cup of tea in a lacy little place place full of old people. I ordered a Bakewell tart and just kept gabbling away while he sat there enthralled. I then steered him to a bar where we had a couple of glasses of sherry before I gently explained to him that if he was willing to pay, he could have me and no one would ever know. I thought he’d be a little flustered, but he took it as if I’d just given him some sound stock market advice. Yes he would be interested in that kind of transaction and how should we arrange the terms?
He is 32 years old, works for the Royal Bank of Scotland and lives at home with his mother. This is pretty much all I know about him as I do all the talking and he just blinks. His mother goes to bridge on Thursday nights so we arranged for me to come around and entertain him while she is out. He has never done anything like this before so I took the lead in all matters. He is quintessentially boring. Perhaps the most boring person I’ve ever met, but he is nice and clean and seems harmless enough. Although it’s impossible to know what is going on behind those little piggy eyes. He put the money in a nice pink envelope (I’ll bet he nicked it from his mother’s stationary draw) and also gave me a beautiful box of chocolates which just about made me swoon.
I said I’d call him Mr Chockywocks which actually made him smile. He has a somewhat creepy smile and terrible teeth, but I’m glad he is a happy customer. We’ve agreed to regular Thursday night trists. I hope he gives me chocolates every time.
A few more like him and I could move into a nicer flat.