Chapter 7

The red light was small, tucked beside a polished brass handle on a Victorian doorway, but it caught my eye as I walked along the road on the edge of the CBD. I’d spent the afternoon wandering from garden to garden, just letting my feet lead me. I studied the red globe. I remembered something from a travel brochure—that prostitution was legal here, a regulated industry built right into the city’s fabric. It felt odd to see it on a street like this, all wrought iron and manicured hedges, yet there it was, glowing with a professional confidence.

Curiosity, a trait that had served me well in the lab but had been stifled in my marriage, surged. I pushed open the door.

I expected a dim lobby that smelled like perfume. But actually, I was greeted by a space that looked more like a fancy hotel lobby. A polished mahogany desk stood at the far wall, manned by a well manicured middle aged woman with a poised smile and an air of corporate efficiency.

“What services would you be interested in?” she asked.

“Could you tell me a bit about the experiences on offer? What are the rates?” I asked. It turned out to be surprisingly expensive, up to five hundred dollars an hour for something called the “girlfriend” experience. This didn’t seem particularly interesting to me, but then I started thinking about the thousands of kilometers that I would soon be travelling. All of a sudden, it occurred to me that hiring a companion might be appealing.