Chapter 43

A Well-Rounded Education

Primrose

2087

The man who opened the apartment door most resembled one of Primrose's clients. His hair was thin, his hands gnarled and he had a slight stoop. He looked at her in the same slightly apologetic way such clients almost always did if they were aware that there was little likelihood that they could give her any genuine pleasure.

However, this wasn't a client. It was her grandmother's latest boyfriend.

"You must be Karen's granddaughter," he said. "Don't worry about me. I'm just about to leave."

"Is that Primrose?" called her grandmother from within the living room. "Come in. Come in. I've been expecting you, but you'll have to excuse the mess."

Primrose walked down the hallway to the living room where her grandmother was sitting cross-legged on the floor surrounded by photo albums. In front of her was a laptop where she'd been looking at yet more photographs. Primrose was relieved to see that her grandmother was wearing clothes. Although she'd often seen her naked over the years, she didn't felt as comfortable with it as an adult as she had when she was a child. Perhaps it was the nagging reminder of the cruel ravages that time visited an elderly woman's body. Or perhaps in some ways Primrose was actually rather less liberal than her grandmother.

"I'm leaving now," called the old man who had squeezed on a pair of sensible shoes that he'd left in the hallway.

"Don't forget to call," cooed Primrose's grandmother just before the door slammed behind him.

"Your latest?" asked Primrose.

"Isn't he sweet?" said her grandmother. "A widower. You meet more and more of those as you get older. We were comparing photos. His wife was quite the lady when she was alive."

"I'm sure she was," said Primrose. "Shall I make us a coffee?"

"Yes, do," said her grandmother who awkwardly staggered to her feet and tidied away the photo albums. "That's a nice tablet you've got. Is it new?"

"Yes," said Primrose. "Thinner, faster and more powerful. I use it for work, but I've got earplugs so I can watch movies on the train. When I get a seat, that is."

"What was the journey like from East London?" asked Karen who stood at the door of the small kitchenette while Primrose doled out teaspoonfuls of coffee into two empty mugs.

"That's not where I came from, Gran," said Primrose. "I came from Ruislip. It was a long journey, but I did get a seat."

"Ruislip?"

"A client."

"Oh. You're still working as an escort, then?"

"What else can I do? I get paid holidays and there's even a pension plan. It's all legit."

"I thought prostitution was still illegal in this country."

"Who's going to enforce a law that's universally ignored, Gran?" said Primrose. "One lump or two?"

"I don't take sugar, dear. It's only there for guests. Do you have a sweet tooth?"

"No, Gran," said Primrose who wondered whether her grandmother was making a discreet enquiry about her daughter's drug habits. There was little that got past her and a newly acquired liking for saccharine would be a tell-tale sign of an energy deficit caused by drugs such as heroin.

"Have you told your mother yet?"

"Yes, Gran," said Primrose with a faint hint of exasperation. "Surely she's said something to you about it. She was bloody pissed off with me about it. She said the last thing she'd ever wanted to be was mother to a whore. She was close to reporting me to the police in the hope that it would get me to stop."

"But she didn't?"

"As I say, what good would it do?"

Primrose put the two mugs on a tray and laid out a handful of shortbread biscuits imported from the Republic of Scotland. She followed her grandmother back to the living room.

"You've got a lovely apartment, Gran," she said. "But what was wrong with the old one? You'd lived there all my life.

"I had to move because of the stairs, dear," said Primrose's grandmother who carefully eased herself into a leather armchair. "The frequent power cuts mean that the lift often doesn't work. Ten flights of stairs are far more than a woman of my age can cope with."

"But you're not actually on the ground floor, Gran."

"I can manage one flight of stairs. And anyway I don't want to get caught in the floods."

"There hasn't been a flood this far from the river, Gran."

"You'd think not, but the river's not that far away. The last time there was a flood the waters almost reached Clapham Common. There's not a lot to stop London getting flooded out of existence just like East Anglia."

"I guess not," said Primrose thoughtfully as she contemplated the safety of the studio apartment she was renting in Barking. Although she mostly only ever arrived there late at night she saw it as her sanctuary. It was, after all, the only place in which there was a bed where she actually slept and didn't have sex. She'd had no boyfriends since she'd started working at Empire Cleaning Services although she'd enjoyed very intimate relations with several colleagues. Now that Primrose mostly thought of sex with men as business rather than pleasure, it satisfied her need for uncomplicated love. But she hadn't yet taken a girlfriend back to her Barking apartment.

"So, tell me, dear," asked Karen as she raised the cup of coffee to her lips. "How did you leave it with your mother? I take it she didn't actually dissuade you from pursuing your career as a sex worker."

"Not at all, Gran," said Primrose. This was a weird conversation to have with your own flesh and blood. "I can't say I enjoy the job exactly, but it's no worse than being a teacher. At least compared to what it was like when I did my teacher training at Eastbury Comprehensive. I was more likely to get beaten up by my pupils there than I am now by my clients."