Chapter 7

Pembroke quickly got dressed. He turned his glasses off, put them in his case, and put his proper glasses back on. He felt much less self-conscious now. She quickly took down all the cameras. He feared what would happen if the girl thought of returning to the room or if anyone else would come in, in her absence, to confront him or to rob him. He made sure he had every single camera accounted for, took all his things, into a backpack, and marched out of the room. Outside in the air, he relaxed and went out to a bar. He had a quiet drink to himself, eyeing up some lovely young things in the corner while thinking back to his encounter with the beautiful Sara.

He carefully took her knickers out of his bag, and sniffed them, making sure no one in the packed pub had noticed. He would love to try and see her again, he thought. The money had been worth it. This has been one of the best nights of his life.

He got home very late. His mother awoke and shouted at him. He helped her to the bathroom, then went to bed, sniffing the girl’s knickers again, and smelling her perfume on him. “You’ve been with a prostitute haven’t you!” shouted his mother, having smelled him. He didn’t care, he did not want to lose her scent, not yet. “Can’t get yourself a girlfriend, can you? You pathetic boy!” He ignored her and drifted off to sleep.

Over the next few weeks, Edward Pembroke worked during the day and edited the footage of his meeting with Angela at night. He had, combined, eighteen hours of footage. He had his own version with him in it. He marvelled at the sight of her kissing him, her implausibly beautiful body, and her enthusiasm in kissing him.

He contacted the escort agency and asked to see her again. But he was told she was no longer working and had no contact details. He did not find any clues from what he had seen in her handbag as to who she was. Maybe she was just a tourist. An angel who had visited him once and that was it.

Meanwhile, Angela took some time to recover. She struggled to teach the next day, hungover. She also discovered some love bites on her buttocks and so had to postpone her meetings with Peter. She grew more and more disappointed in herself and felt she had changed. There was something in her that had died, some spirit of optimism. She looked at men a different way. She could not explain it, but men seemed to stare at her in a way they had not before. She had always got attention, but it was like they now saw her more sexually. She found it more difficult to smile and when she did, she was disturbed by the glances she got back.

She threw herself into her work and studies. It was a week after seeing Pembroke that she saw Peter again. The sex was wild, and afterward, she felt partly cleansed.

The money, on the other hand, had been a boon. Daniel arrived in London and they had a great time together. After he had left, she told herself that she could make it without any more escort work. She did not need much money anyway.

The summer came, and exams came and went. Angela went back to Spain to see her family and wondered about her next moves. Her masters would finish next year and then she could apply to be a full-time academic in education or she could take up a lucrative job offer in finance. She was also interested in posts at the UN.

Her pupils’ exam results came out and were excellent. Despite being in a deprived area, the results attracted nationwide attention. The Guardian newspaper and the Daily Mail both wrote stories about the school.

The school management was in no doubt as to who would be best to the best figurehead for the school. Angela was requested to meet the journalists. As a beautiful young woman, she got full attention and centre spread as pupils parents, and staff praised her.

Angela was delighted. This would help her application to the UN no end. Other outlets approached her for her to write for them on education. Suddenly the world was opening up for her. No one was surprised, the beautiful talented, and industrious Angela Candelema was always going to be someone.

Unfortunately for her, Edward Pembroke read the papers himself. He at first did not recognise her when he saw the story of her school in the Evening Standard. It was only later the same evening when he saw her again in the Daily Mail that he recognised the sweet pearly smile and shining eyes under the wavy hair.