That made me laugh and as I got the bartender’s attention, I gestured to her to order a drink. ‘So where would you go,’ I said. ‘I mean … for more than this. It feels as though everyone brags about how hardcore they are, but these parties all look like a glossy advertorial for gin or something.’ She nodded in recognition, paused for a second and then looked around the bar, which was emptying out as people headed for the private rooms.
‘Honestly, this place is good only because it’s central and the wine doesn’t leave you with a hangover you’ll regret. But it’s so safe. They promise depravity but for most of these men that just means telling them that they’re losers then they cum. That’s what counts as dark for rich men. But what is it that you really want?’
She was truly beautiful this woman, even with a mask covering half her face. Cheekbones which didn’t vanish when her smile did. Dimples which made her look a fraction less threatening than such a face would normally be. A mouth which was pleasingly plump but not stuffed with fillers like half the women I’d seen that night. I wondered what her deal was, if she came to these nights to meet the rich guys or whether she was really searching for sexual gratification in a way that I didn’t understand. Whatever she was, she clearly favoured the direct approach. So I took it.
‘I want to tie someone up and make him completely helpless. Then I want to choke him so hard he passes out. Sexy for him, part of the healing process for me. Do you know anywhere which might host such a situation?’
On the way home, I opened the browser on my phone and searched for the name of the club she’d mentioned. ‘Well you only want one place, darling, you’re wasting your time with all this,’ she’d gestured to the palatial space around us. ‘But I’ve got to say, if you’re here then you’re an amateur, and I’m telling you about a place where your learner plates will do you no good. Don’t go unless you really want it.’ She didn’t know how much I wanted it, and she didn’t push any further, slinking off with her drink towards the Playroom. As she’d said, there was very little online about her recommended spot, just a map of the location – Mile End – and a mobile number. Maybe now I was finally on the right track. I just needed Lee to come with me. Getting him to acquiesce to being choked by a stranger didn’t seem like the hard part. I was more worried about asking him to go to the East End.
*
Finally I got lucky. One Tuesday night I got corralled into drinks with colleagues, although admittedly that wasn’t the lucky part. Thirty minutes at the pub was all I could manage in the end. The table was made up of seven women and Gavin, the sweetly camp digital guy who wore cardigans more than he should, and that is being kind because the correct amount is never. The shrieks of laughter were audible from the bar, where I ordered myself a large glass of Brunello because there was no conceivable world in which these people had chosen anything but a bottle of the house white. When I eventually came around to where they were sitting, I saw that my instinct was spot on. My only mistake had been to imagine they’d only got one bottle. Three stood on the table, and only one had any liquid left in it. Exclamations of welcome were made, a chair proffered.
‘We’re talking about which Hemsworth brother is hotter, Grace,’ slurred Jenny, who never spoke to me in the office but smiled a lot when I happened to glance her way.
‘Oh sorry,’ I said as I took my scarf off, ‘I don’t know who they are.’ I did know of course, I think wilful ignorance of pop culture is pathetic, but I didn’t want them to think that I was the kind of person who enjoyed this type of conversation. It would be a slippery slope where suddenly I’d be expected to join in at work more. Not that I was planning a long career at the company. The moment the plan was all wrapped up, I’d be out of there without so much as a courtesy email.
The conversation continued around me, and a phone was produced to show me the important key differences between the brothers Hemsworth. I listened along, rejecting any attempts to have one-on-one conversations, and took my opportunity to leave when Christie went to the toilet and Gavin went to get another round in. I tried to stay cheery in the face of entreaties for me to stay, but I’m afraid I went slightly too far when Jenny grabbed me by the hand and tried to take my scarf off. I reciprocated the pressure she was putting on my palm, and then dug my nails hard into her fingers as I released myself from her grasp with some force. She winced and looked down at her hand, rubbing it as I said goodnight to the group. As I walked towards the door, I looked back at the table. Everyone was listening to Magda as she told some story which involved miming fellatio on an empty wine bottle. Everyone that was, except Jenny. She was still staring at me with a look of complete shock, her hand tucked under her armpit as though she were trying to soothe herself. It took all I had in me not to wink at her as I turned and headed out the door.