Francesca, page 2
I never heard another word from Luke; he had no curiosity about his baby. He didn’t even know if it was a boy or girl. When I bumped into people from my old work place, they informed me that Luke and Emma were living together, and she was quite well off financially. I felt a pang, but I also felt pity for her, knowing he would lead her in the same merry dance had me and drain all her savings. Leopards don’t change their spots. He had cheated and used me, and he would do the same to her.
I realised now were all my wages had gone. Luke had lost his job months ago because of turning up late and with a hangover—that was, if he could be bothered to turn up at all. I had been the only earner in the house, and he had used all my wages to wine and dine his lady friends.
I needed a job. I couldn’t go back to my old one. I couldn’t face it. So I set about scouring the local papers and pushing Bobby in his pram around the streets handing in CV after CV to anyone and everyone.
Employers didn’t seem interested, especially as my flexibility was limited. Chris, who had now become a very good friend and confidant, offered to babysit if and when needed. It still didn’t get me a job.
Then one fateful day when I was totally exhausted and little Bobby was sleeping, I sat outside a café and asked for a coffee, much the same as now really. Only this time, it was the East End of London, known for its gangland history, including the Kray twins.
Across the road, I saw a public house. Groups of men came pouring out laughing and joking. When they opened the doors, loud music blared out. Bar work? I hadn’t even considered it, but it was an option. I knew nothing about it, and had no experience, but there was no harm in asking. What did I have to lose?
Summoning up the courage, I finished my coffee and crossed the road to the pub. I felt a bit silly pushing my pram into a pub, but I had no choice. It was dark inside and very busy, packed to the hilt with men. I looked across towards the well-lit bar and, leaving the pram, in the doorway walked towards the bar.
The bar staff looked at me strangely as I stood there with a baby in my arms, though the majority of customers never even noticed me. The manager came over, and I told him I was looking for a job. I explained I had no experience but I was prepared to learn. He pointed over to the other side of the bar and walked down that way to meet me. That side of the bar was a little quieter. This time, I didn’t have to shout over the music.
Leaning over the bar, he looked at me. ‘You do know what kind of pub this is, don’t you?’ he asked me. He had a smiley face and reached out and stroked Bobby’s hand. I looked at him oddly, curious as to what he meant.
Again, he smiled and just pointed over to the far end of the pub. There on a stage at the back was a half-naked woman dancing to the music. I hadn’t even noticed the stage behind the crowds of men. I turned and looked at the manager again. I was a little shocked. I had never seen anything like it or even heard of it before.
‘It’s a stripper pub, love—you, know exotic dancers, striptease. Are you sure you want to work here?’
Curiosity got the better of me, and I turned again to the stage and saw the now naked young woman taking a bow and accepting applause from the crowd. Then she disappeared behind a curtain at the side of the stage. I turned back to the manager, and he was laughing to himself. ‘I don’t think so, love. Not quite what you expected was it?’
It wasn’t, and I felt myself blushing. But at least this manager was listening to me, unlike all the other managers who just took my name and said they would be in touch if anything turned up.
‘I need a job,’ I almost shouted at him over the music. ‘Do you have any spare shifts?’
Again he looked at me oddly, as though thinking to himself and stroked his chin. Then he looked down at Bobby and up at me again. He could see how desperate I was. ‘Yes, I have some spare shifts going if you want them, start tomorrow night at 7 p.m. I’ll give you a trial, and we will see how it goes.’ He held out his hand to shake on the deal, and I nearly shook his arm off.
My huge smile alone would make him feel like he had done his good deed for the day!
I had walked out of there on air. I’d done it. I had a job. I didn’t remember walking home, but when I got there I went straight away to see Chris and told her I had a job and where it was.
She didn’t seem as pleased as I had thought, frowning and warning me of what people thought of those kinds of pubs. I explained something was better than nothing and argued my case until she eventually gave in. But she warned me of the stigma attached to those places and seemed to get on her high horse a bit with her prudish manner. It wasn’t my lifelong ambition, but it was paid work, wherever it was. And this man had given me a chance.
My first evening passed in a blur. The pub had been very busy. The manager and the other bar staff showed me how to work the till and laughed at my first attempts at pulling a pint of lager. All in all, the time flew by. The strippers were at the other end of the pub on the stage, and you didn’t really see them much. They were introduced by the DJ. All you saw were the men’s backs.
I was surprised. It wasn’t seedy like Chris had described it at all. There were no dirty old men in long mackintosh coats, as was the usual myth. The men were from all walks of life—businessmen in suits, coming in during their lunch breaks and before their train home was due; normal men having a laugh and a drink with their colleagues and friends; and, of course, the usual football supporters, who sang their songs and shouted out the usual innuendos at the dancers.
I had been nervous meeting the strippers, not knowing what to expect. It hadn’t been like the white slavery trade Chris had warned me about. They were normal working women with normal lives. One was working her way through university, and working the pubs gave her the flexibility to carry on with her studies. She could choose when she worked and do as many or as little shifts as could fit in with her studies.
They usually came in early before the pub was officially open so they could have a gossip with the manager and his wife. There were lots of different shifts. Two dancers worked the lunchtime between 12.30 and 3 p.m., and another two dancers worked from 6 p.m. till 8 p.m. This was while the men came in to kill time while waiting for their trains home. Then there was a late shift from 8.30 till 11 p.m.
I learnt they all worked above board for an agency. They were paid a basic wage, which covered their expenses, and the rest of their wages was made up in tips. They did two or three dances. Each one lasted approximately six minutes. Before they started, they went around the crowds of men with an empty pint glass. I was surprised when the crowd expected this. Well, I suppose they were used to it. The men promptly took out a few pound coins and put the money in the glass as a tip.
At the end of each shift, the dancers would walk around the back of the bar and cash up their change into notes. I was shocked when I saw how much money they were earning!
Some had fifty pounds. Some had more. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was amazing how much those pound coins the men put into their pint glasses added up. All in all, the dancers were a nice bunch of women, who liked the money. The work fitted in with their schedules of picking up the children from school and keeping with other commitments. Some of the more popular girls acquired their own fan club of men who followed them from pub to pub. Apparently, there were a lot of these pubs in London, and the girls worked maybe two or three shifts a day! It was another world, and it seemed a very lucrative one.
None of the strippers mentioned sex. Most of them were in relationships or married. Unlike how Chris had described this seedy world, it seemed no one had a pimp or was forced into having sex. They talked about normal day-to-day things, including their children and their husbands, who also worked.
There was Candy, a beautiful Jamaican woman (I presumed Candy wasn’t her real name, because they all had wonderful exotic names). She and her husband were buying their house, and he was a mechanic who paid the mortgage and the bills. Her wages paid for those little extras for the children and their new boiler. As I said, it wasn’t that seedy or exotic really—just normal women earning extra cash.
They all seemed to know each other and were friends who got other friends into the agency. After a few months it all became normality. Chris looked after Bobby more and more for me as my shifts increased. I soon had the hang of it, and the manager seemed pleased. I even knew the regular customers by name and what they wanted to drink before they asked. All in all, it was good fun really.
Knowing I had Bobby, who was now growing, some of the strippers actually brought in bags of baby clothes their own children had grown out of. I never divulged anything about myself, just that I was a single mum. No one pushed for more gossip, and I left it at that. All the strippers worked a long way from home, and they never told any of their families what they did for a living. Nor did they bump into anyone they knew, causing embarrassment to their families. It was a shame really, having to hide it this way. But I knew from Chris what people’s opinions were about women who took their clothes off. They had to be prostitutes. That just wasn’t the case.
It wasn’t long before Bobby was a year. Time had passed so quickly. I was still paying off the debts Luke had left behind and even managed to send some money home to my mam to help her out. Chris was a great help babysitting for me, which I insisted on paying her for. I just closed my ears to the constant comments about having to get out of that place and find some respectable work. I had tried, but no one had ever replied to my CV. So I carried on.
‘You’re wasted behind that bar, Francesca,’ Candy said to me one day. Her friend nodded in agreement. When I looked at them curiously they went on. ‘You get a lot of male attention behind that bar and apart from your wages, you’re not earning a penny for it. Why don’t you come to this side of the bar and try striptease? There is money in it, as you know.’ They laughed and nudged each other, giving me a knowing wink.
I felt my face flush red with embarrassment, I wasn’t sure if they were laughing at me or with me. ‘I couldn’t do that. I’m not pretty enough, and I couldn’t take my clothes off in front of everyone.’ I stopped short. I knew I had offended them, and I hadn’t meant to. It had come out wrong.
They were pretty women, glamorous and confident. I, on the other hand, was plain and lacked confidence. All of my self-worth had been crushed by Luke. Time after time, he had said I was plain and dull.
‘You’re not insulting us. Francesca. We all say that in the beginning, but the money tempts you and even becomes addictive. Think about it, Fran. You’re not bad looking. If you ever let your hair down out of that ponytail, I bet it’s really long. And you’re young, with a decent figure. What are you, a size ten?’
‘Size eight,’ I replied.
‘Bloody hell, Fran. Didn’t you eat when you were pregnant? Do you have any stretch marks?’ They were laughing now, although it wasn’t funny to me. There were days in the past when I had gone without food, even when I had Bobby. I had done that so I could buy food for him.
‘Not a stretch mark in sight.’ I smiled. ‘My mam told me to oil my stomach every day to try and prevent it, and she should know. She had four of us.’
We all laughed together this time. They looked at their watches and walked to the changing area by the side of the stage.
The manager, who had been listening to the friendly banter while polishing his glasses, came up behind me. ‘They are not wrong you know. You could do okay, I shouldn’t be saying this because I could lose myself a decent barmaid.’
I just looked and smiled at him. Thankfully, the silence was broken by the first customers coming in. Still, the thought lingered in my mind. And this time, I watched the strippers and their teasing ways and how all their clothes were adapted to come off easily. I couldn’t do that. Could I?
None of the conversation was ever mentioned again, and life carried on as normal. I did pay more attention to the strippers, though. And every time I saw the money they were earning, my mind started working overtime. Each time I considered what candy and her friend had said I I realised how ridiculous the idea was and decided they were just having a laugh at my expense
A few weeks later, Candy and a few of the other girls came in for a drink and a gossip. They were in between shifts and had popped in to kill time.
‘I have a surprise for you tonight.’ She smiled. The other girls turned and looked at each other as though they were all in on the joke.
A man and two women walked into the pub. Everyone, even the regulars, seemed to know them.
The girls were sitting on the stools at the bar, and the strippers who were working that evening came across and said hello to the well-known trio.
‘These are our agents,’ said Candy. ‘And we have all decided it’s time for you to have a go. So tonight, Francesca, you’re coming to this side of the bar, and you’re going to audition.’
I blushed profusely.
They all stared at me, laughing and smiling, waiting for my reaction.
‘No way,’ I managed to say. ‘Anyway I’m working.’ I was needed behind the bar.
The agents introduced themselves and informed me they didn’t have long, but they had heard a lot about me. Candy had convinced them to come and see for themselves.
The manager started serving the customers and waved my way. ‘Go on then. It’s the graveyard shift. Look around you. There are only a dozen blokes in here. Don’t waste everyone’s time, Fran.’ He laughed encouragingly.
Inside, I was panicking. I felt cornered, but I knew they meant well.
2
New Beginnings
Candy and the others pulled me to their side of the bar and frogmarched me to the little changing room. They opened their ‘work bags’ full of costumes. One by one, out came glamorous exotic garments they thought would suit me. Just the thought of going through with this made me squirm, but I did as I was told. (Old habits die hard!)
I was wearing stockings and suspenders. All of the shoes were too high and too big, so they stuffed the fronts with toilet paper! Then Raquel, a petite blonde stripper, handed me a white PVC nurses outfit. I felt ridiculous. I looked like I was going to a fancy dress party—or something?
‘Right. Next some lipstick. Let’s put some make-up on that face of yours. Here take this and go and collect some money.’ They were fully in charge of the situation.
‘I can’t. I feel silly,’ I said,’ and they won’t give me any money.’
They could see my dwindling confidence and knew I was going to back out and run for it, back to the safe haven behind the bar.
Raquel took my arm and opened the changing room door to the pub. I still wasn’t sure if they were using me as an object of ridicule. She walked me towards the customers and said, ‘Come on, guys, fresh meat. And no auditions for free.’ She pushed the glass towards them.
Fresh meat! That was how she described me? I lowered my eyes to the floor and was expecting rejection, which would end this drama. To my surprise, the guys started putting money in the glass. She walked with me to each one and joked and bantered with them, encouraging them to put more money in.
‘Right, Fran. We’re done. The DJ has picked out some music for you. The agents are at the bar. All you have to do is the same as you have seen us do a million times. Dance slowly, and most of all, take that worried look off your face and smile.’
It was a weak smile as I stumbled in those high court shoes stuffed with toilet roll. But after all the effort everyone had put in, including the men and their money, I didn’t want to let them down.
The ambience was full of nervous excitement and curious expectancy from the crowd. Most of the men had seen me behind the bar, but this was a different Francesca. They were curious. I could hardly see anyone. The lights were very bright on the stage area, which made the crowd look dark. So when the music started, I started to move around the stage as I had seen the others do, day in day out.
I looked towards the girls. They were smiling and giving me the thumbs up and mouthing at me to start undoing my clothes and take them off.
Oh to hell with it—in for a penny. I followed their silent instructions and clumsily took off the nurse’s outfit. It was all over before I knew it. The men clapped their hands. The girls were all smiles and talking to each other as I wobbled back into the changing room. My legs felt weak, but most of all I couldn’t believe what I had just done. I started getting dressed back into my jeans and T shirt.
The trio of agents walked into the cramped changing area, which also doubled as the ladies’ loo. One held out an agency card towards me. ‘I’m Amanda. This is Jill, and this is Pete. You’re a little wooden, love. Polish up your act a bit and get some costumes. Then give us a call if you’re interested.’ She turned towards Candy, who she treated like an old friend, and said, ‘You were right, Candy. You can always spot a good one. I will call you and we’ll meet for lunch and a catch up.’
With that, they all turned and laughed.
I looked at the long black card in my hand while they were giving each other high fives, celebrating their achievement. The agents didn’t just deal with strippers. They listed singers, live bands, and comedians. I guessed each of the trio specialised in a type of act. Amanda, I guessed, booked the dancers. I had also been right that she and Candy were friends. They had worked together, until Amanda had bought into the agency.
I looked at the glass with the money in it and wondered how much was in there. Raquel picked it up and handed it to me. ‘Well, go on. Cash it out. Let’s see how much you got.’
Forty pounds! Oh my God. That was much more than I had expected. Forty pounds for six minutes of work. The manager let out a deep sigh and jokingly said he was going to have to get another barmaid.
‘No. No way,’ I said. ‘I’m not going to let you down—not after everything you’ve done for me.’
He put his arm around my shoulder reassuringly. ‘Oh yes you are, girl,’ he said in that deep cockney accent of his. And you’re going to pack this place out and make me a fortune. Now go for it.’
