4 more weeks…. Part XVI

Mid November 2011

‘R’ told us we were being hysterical. He was so skilled at ‘Gas-lighting’

“It was probably a fake plastic gun, fuck it, move on, you will get this from time to time, he was just a chancer who has probably been here before and knew there was money on site”

‘R’ was probably right but it didn’t make it ok. He’d told us there was no way we were ringing the police because they’d laugh at us anyway. It made sense. What the hell would we say anyway?! ‘Excuse me but a bloke just robbed me of all my hard earned cash, do you know how many men I’ve slept with for this?’ It just didn’t sound good did it? We all believed that this was a seedy under-ground operation which it definitely was but not in the way he made out.

“Ash, you ok Hun?”

“I’m alright ya know, a bit shaken up, deffo don’t wanna be here alone but it’s fine. He got off with that 800 quid though and I needed that badly, I need to buy furniture for me new place”

“Oh Hun I’m so sorry I sent him to you, he seemed fine, I’ll do my best to get you as many jobs as I can”

“Ta love, It’s sound, you didn’t know”

I didn’t know, but I did feel responsible. I kept thinking if I’d have taken the call instead of messaging the creep then I’d have sussed out if he was ok or not. Normally I had procedures in place and a rule that no one could book unless they had a saved number in the phone and we’d seen him before. This number was new but I took the risk and I fuckt up. My paranoia was so bad I had genuinely begun to wonder if ‘R’ had set this shit up to prove a point to me and so he could steal money back from the girls as he was money and ego centric. Getting back to this life after a relatively serene few days in Cornwall was awful. I felt more crap than ever and so nervous about my future, I was finally happy with a wonderful man who I knew for once loved the bones of me and I him. That was getting me through, I was at the point where I felt I couldn’t do anything positive by myself and everyday that went on as Robs girlfriend I felt stronger. We shouldn’t rely on another person to make us better but sometimes someone comes along and makes us see sense. My road ahead was long but I didn’t give a shit about material things right now, I realised I’d been working to strive for this unobtainable life a life that measured success by your bank balance. It was time to sit and ask myself some honest questions like had I achieved what I wanted financially from this? No. In the beginning I told you Belle had lied… this industry wasn’t glamorous nor was I ending up like Julia Roberts, though I’d found my Richard Gere in Robbie – perhaps a poorer, hotter version. I knew that the sooner I got this over and done with the better, yes I’d be poor as hell but I wouldn’t fear for my life everyday or feel the suffocating shame that I felt because of what I did or didn’t do.

Oh remember ‘Norwegian Bex’ ? I mentioned her briefly in the post titled ‘The Girls’. Bex had been set up with forged pay slips and a fake position as a Personal Assistant employed by one of ‘R’s’ bogus companies. She had taken a second Liverpool flat out in her name to be paid for by ‘R’ under the condition that she allowed the place to be used for ‘meets’ by other girls. I advised her against it when we were alone, I told her if she did that he’d own her. I was right. He would go over there and fuck her, she’d been here for a few weeks and had I had watched a rapid decline in her physical and mental state. Initially I had really liked her, I’d taken her round the shops in ‘L1’ and showed her where she could buy her ‘snuff’ as she called it – which is a chewing tobacco that she said ‘everyone’  in Norway chewed. I personally thought it looked gross and when she did chew it she would get black teeth! The impression I got when we first met was that this was an educated girl from a good home in Norway. She had previously been working in a bank in Norway and was paid good money but she’d come here to see friends and look at studying here and getting a job. Why oh why she had walked into this place was beyond me… but it wasn’t really was it? We all had our reasons and our back stories. She was kinky and she was very willing too, she was more hardcore than Susie and so she smashed the money-making. Cocaine seemed to be her thing and she was hitting it hard most nights alone or with other various girls sent to work from her flat – it showed on her face so much she had aged almost overnight. Bex had started to act up, often looking totally off her face and not making much sense – this was a girl who needed sorting out. Once a week I was to collect the money from Bex’s and bank it in Halifax on Bold Street along with the Renshaw street cash. I was shocked at the state of the place, it looked like an absolute shit-tip and there were takeaway boxes everywhere, Bex was barely awake and looked exactly like what she had become – a coke whore. Seeing Bex like this scared me, she looked like how I did just before I was admitted to hospital.

“Bex, you need to lay off the coke hun”

“I know, I know, I am so fucking over this shit”

“Go home then! You can go home right? lets be honest your not making any money its going up ya nose”

“Yeh, I’m gona leave soon, my mums coming over to take me home for Xmas then when I get back I’ll get my shit and be gone but Im scared to tell him”

This flat was probably bugged too but I now knew that ‘R’ didn’t like confrontation and actually he thrived off the bitching we did about him. I think it made him feel ‘hard’ and more ‘gangster’.

“Fuck him, he doesn’t care about you and he owns you and your body, get the fuck out asap, this is no life”

Bex looked at me with a wry smile and said

“Lauren..you too! why you still here? You have Robbie now”

“Don’t you worry about me babe, I have a plan”

“Good, let me know what it is but not here yeh?”

“Bex, I might look stupid and I might act it, but I know what to do, lets go for ‘all you can eat’ this week with Susie yeh?”

“Sound”

I loved the way the foreign girls would pick up the scouse sayings such as ‘sound’

“Now lay off the coke Bex! I’ll see u soon, ring me on my personal if you need me”

Every day that went by I gave myself a little pep-talk and told myself to just get gone BUT it wasn’t just me I had to think about, I was potentially putting girls out of work and putting them at risk of being investigated by police. Some might hate me for it and I knew who and I was prepared for that but I’d always been taught by mum that if its wrong you tell someone. Xmas was looming and they would be relying on the work to provide for themselves and their family over the festive season. We all needed a good Xmas and I had been invited by my auntie to go to Sheffield for a few days – they had no idea what I was doing and they certainly didn’t know about Rob. Telling them about Rob would be a hard task as how the hell was I going to mention he was still married and had a son? My old-school family wouldn’t cope and I needed approval, I always sought approval even when making the wrong decisions; I agreed to go for four days. Urgh I was so sick of lying.

‘After Xmas’ I told myself and theres no going back on this Laura! You WILL get this done straight after. I still needed to plan it anyway, my head was clear these days and it felt so good to finally feel more like ‘me’ whoever that was, but I knew I was better than this piece of shit I had been. Anxiety levels were higher than Bex but in a weird way I felt I deserved the self-loathing and panic attacks and I was good at hiding how I felt. 4 more weeks, 4 more weeks.

On a brighter note though, love was now my drug and I loved coming home to Robbie. The simple things in life were finally making me happy. I’d even looked at college courses and one in Southport College took my fancy. It gave you enough credits to get into a university and was only a year long! I couldn’t wait to apply so did so that night. Thank the Lord that the private school fees had gotten me a damn good set of GCSE’s.

xxxx

Great escapes, Gangs and Guns….Part XV

Early November 2011

Well of course I’d lied to ‘R’

“I’m just going to visit my auntie in Cornwall for 4 days”

“Fine but you can work the phones right?”

“Yeh. ‘Course, no probs”

That was a rhetorical question, there was absolutely no room for ‘no’ and the only way he’d agree was if I agreed. ‘Tactics’ – manipulation, preying on people’s weaknesses, knowing that you don’t dare challenge them because you will be ‘punished’. I’d have rather died than be ‘punished’ by him. Seriously. You know the stories of women in violent relationships and we all sit wondering why the hell they put up with it? People point the fingers at the women and start to wonder if she ‘likes it’? Until you’ve been there it is very hard to comprehend but its very real and it feels like theres no way out.

Hmmm.. I wondered if Cornwall had good wifi, I’d have to pray to god it did and hoped Rob’s mum had high speed internet or I was in for it. Part of me thought ‘Fuck it’ whats he going to do when I’m here anyway, but I didn’t trust him – evil is never to be trusted. I felt a million miles away – bliss. The last time I’d been to Cornwall was in 2002 when I was 17 with my mum, dad, granny and my Auntie Jackie. It had been an ‘eventful’ holiday with my teenage rebellion being my downfall – I’d gone off with the barman who seemed to be the only young person about. He invited me for a joint on the beach and we laughed and joked watching the sea… he was cool, not a sleaze and we were just being friendly…the police however didn’t agree as they banged on the car window at 2am.

Cornwall is stunning, dramatic, extreme, rugged, unspoilt she was the best of England before people came along and fuckt it up, she was very much like New Zealand and both places reminded me of each other . Both places where I feel a physical calling but places I get frightened to stay too long in case I miss out on life or end up settled into the provincial lifestyle that had always terrified me in my twenties and yet now seems so appealing and is all I want. The dream is to write, have a pack of dogs, live in a country cottage in Sussex or Surrey and be near the resting place of my mum.

We were met from the airport by his mum and sister which was pretty nerve wracking to say the least. I was fully aware that I would be seen as ‘the other woman’ and that in all fairness to them they were being very kind considering how they could have been. His mum was small like all mums of that generation seem to be, short cropped hair, a hard but welcoming face and a look that said “Don’t mess with my son”. She wore a fleece, jeans and sketchers – mum attire. His sister was much more open to me, she lived in the middle of nowhere and we all went back to hers to devour the cornish pasties that they had picked up especially for Robbie who had demanded that we have them for tea. Boys always get what they want. I liked Jodie immediately, she reminded me of Phoebe from friends, instantly I could tell she didn’t have her shit together at all, its always reassuring to know someone is in your boat too. She was the opposite of Rob and their mum, Katrina.

This would be a make or break holiday, I’d either leave loving him entirely or leave because something tiny he did would piss me off… I’d been put off really nice guys because of stupid things like the way they ate at the table or the way they held their knife and fork. I might be many things but I do have table manners and I find it such a turn off when I realise someones mother hasn’t enforced them!

“All joints on the table shall be carved…. so elbows off!”

It was all very nicey nicey and so far so good, I was just waiting for THE question. The one that scared me the most … oh there it is

“So what do you do for a job? What are you plans for the future Laura?”

“I work as a PA for a guy who runs an glamour modelling agency, but its just a fill in job at the moment, I’d love to go back to college though and actually get a degree in Vet med or something working with animals”

Every job I’d had since leaving school I would immediately feel the need to follow my answer with a reason as to why I wasn’t flying high. The pressure I felt to do well, to be successful, to have a ‘proper’ career had always been with me and contributed to my feelings of rejection and uselessness. I had felt a failure for many many years.

“Oh, well whatever pays the bills”

“Yes, its pretty full on and I unfortunately have to work while I’m here a little bit too but I will make sure I don’t let it disrupt my holiday. I enjoy helping the girls though – I like to help people” I smiled politely, it was true I love to help people and I guess thats another reason that I stayed for as long as I did.

I’d been gone from Renshaw Street for less than 6 hours, by the time I dared to look at the work phone there were 54 missed calls and numerous texts from punters requesting girls. 16 of the calls were from ‘R’ and a few BBM messages asking me where I was and why I wasn’t answering.

“Lauren, why you not answering the fucking calls? Do I need to tell your family?”

These were the kinds of threats and manipulation techniques that scared me into staying, they are the same ones used by groomers, domestic abusers and sociopaths and although I knew that I had been taking it for months. I truly believed that in no way shape or form was I worthy of anything better than this miserable existence though Robbie had given me a glimmer of hope. Just before we’d come to cornwall he’d moved into a tiny one bedroom flat costing £380 a month including bills bang smack in the middle of Southport. He was serious. So was I, I longed for something to be proud of, something that I had worked hard for and nobody could take away from me. I longed for a career where I could afford nice things without having to sell my body or my soul.

I BBM’d Serena and asked her to take over the calls and I would handle the messages and bookings on the ‘Bookings channel’. Thank god she had agreed and thank god she was in one of her ‘I need money’  weeks which meant she would stay all weekend while I was away. I was feeling relived that the ‘OG’ crew were there; Original Girls or Original Gangsters as I affectionately named us. It made us feel like we were in something together- like a club, we might not have had much but we shared common ground and at the end of the day everybody just wants to fit in whether they like to admit it or not. Susie, Ash and Serena were on the whole dependable, the rest would cum and go… literally. There were a few new girls there that weekend too and so I would always start the new girls with the safe-bet regulars who came solely for a shag and were clean and polite. I hated scaring the new girls off by giving them difficult clients asking for A-levels, Scat (You google scat, even my foul mouth can’t cope with this today) or weird domination sessions. One ‘weird’ regular would come weekly and ask to have his balls literally kicked in by one of the OG’s they would laugh about it being a way to vent their anger towards the men and let out their frustrations. He’d beg to be bruised, battered and left with bloody bollocks! I could no way on earth do that, I hate to hurt a mouse let alone batter some twisted bastard for 30 minutes. Standard jobs for the newbies, weirdos for Susie, those wanting the ‘Girlfriend’ experience for Ash and any other freaks to Serena. Safe.

The first day in Cornwall had been spent driving to beauty spots of which there are many to choose from, we walked from Marizion to Penzance in the blistering cold whilst Robs mum who is called ‘Kat’ showed us St.Michael’s mount. It was stunning even through the grey clouds. I love to see the sea when its wild, its exciting and the salt spray hit my face almost snapping me out of my stupor. Its a fucking cliche isn’t it but having spent the day with a ‘normal’ family doing ‘normal’ things I realised just how twisted my life had become and as I gazed out at what I thought was in fact ‘Mont Saint Michel’ only to be corrected by Robbie who told me that was the french version I must be thinking about, I realised that upon my return my plan would be actioned sooner than I had anticipated. There was no cocaine, condoms or creeps here! Maybe there was but I wasn’t looking for it this time. It was truly bliss. The BBM’s had been coming in thick and fast but it looked like everything was under control. For the first time in a long time I had really enjoyed myself and felt somewhat a part of a family. Cheesy but true. Our grandmothers don’t lie when they say things like

“That’ll be the sea air! It’s knackers you out”

It had well and truly shattered me and I’d allowed my body to somewhat relax. I fell into a deep sleep on Kat’s couch only to wake the next morning with missed call list longer than my arm and the most terrifying message from Serena…

“Ash has been robbed at gun point! He’s tied her up and stolen all the money and got off”

Fuck.

Silence is Violence XIV

The pizza was amazing btw if your all wondering, he bought over Spicy chicken pizza from ‘Sergeant Peppers’ in Southport. If you haven’t been there then I suggest you do! I hope it’s still there. We talked for ages, he was a gentleman and didn’t try to make a move which I was glad about. I’ve always been awkward. This man was beautiful AND kind AND funny….

Lolly was still on side too but I expected she wasn’t going to provide me with a written statement though she was still a ok for me to give the ‘busies’ her number when I went. Excellent!

I recognised my ‘privilege’. I’m white and some might say middle-class with what all the girls in the flat called ‘a posh voice’ plus I was privately educated. To say I stuck out like a sore thumb was an understatement. Ok, so I was currently working in a brothel out of a dingy flat but I was aware of the difference in upbringings we all had and I was actually very aware of the situation I had found myself in somewhat being my own stupidity, my own fault. I felt shameful when I compared my situation to theirs and I felt even more shame when I was still sat there doing absolutely sweet FA about it. Shame was eating me up – that and many other things like having a totally dysfunctional family unit, a mum with a terminal illness and a broken down marriage to someone who was as toxic as the reunion with the Real Housewives of Cheshire but still – I had had it easier than any of the other girls in comparison.

It’s funny because I was already so aware of how this could go down with police; get it wrong and ‘R’ was getting away with grooming and pimping the vulnerable girls of the North West but get it right and the police might just take me seriously.

Rob had left his wife though and I was feeling very weird about it, I didn’t want to be a home-wrecker and I hated women who intentionally ‘stole’ men from their wives and kids. That wasn’t me. He told me it was a matter of time and that I had come along out of nowhere just like that cliché bolt out the blue. I got it. I felt the same. Still, I was only living in temporary accommodation at the time in a studio flat and as much as I was convinced he was truly ‘the one’ I also knew that I was known to romanticise people and situations. We all know those people on our friends list who have a new partner every few weeks and declare their undying love to one another publicly for the world to see – literally a few days later they are slagging each other off and we watch on like it’s entertainment. Eff that! I didn’t want that to be me this time, I was tired of being the joke.

Still even the man who had just left his wife and life didn’t know the severity of my situation, I didn’t want him to. I wanted to be seen from the start as stable, as a woman who is sexy because she’s in control of her shit and knows what she wants – not someone who needed ‘rescuing’. This man who had walked out of his home that he had a joint mortgage on didn’t know I was working for a drug addled ‘fixer’.

‘R’ may have fixed appointments but he broke every girl he sent to these vile people.

From the day I met Rob I knew this was someone I didn’t want to lead on and I also didn’t want to be led either. I’d sat back for months watching ‘R’ exploit, abuse, control and gain from this and he was getting worse and he was planning expansion. Already worked to the bone and having spent that time in hospital I knew I couldn’t handle what he had planned. I knew it was time to stand up, take control back and put a stop to this. It’s cliche af to say but something inside me was changing and I was sick of this shit. I wanted a future, a job, a family a career to be proud of I wanted that for me and the girls. Currently I was nothing more than a maid in a brothel and that made ME a criminal too.

Emily had given me emailed statements detailing the abuse she’d suffered, Lolly had given me the green light to give her number to the police and I’d even asked Susie what her thoughts were over a £5.99 all you can eat lunchtime Chinese special. Susie and i often went for an ‘All you can eat’ and I loved those moments of ‘reality’

Susie replied

“But what can you do? We need money, we get good work it’s ok, no?”

“No Susie, it’s not, he’s getting younger girls all the time it’s wrong”

“I know, but they choose it right?”

“See I don’t think they do, they are vulnerable they are there for the taking, he’s exploiting that, especially Ash and Serena, and look at Lolly and bloody Angel?!”

“True, I want to leave soon and go to Hungary, my body is tired and I have saved enough now”

“Susie I think you should go your too lovely for this shit”

“You too Lauren” (everyone called me Lauren)

‘R’ was getting more demanding by the minute and I was now getting regular phone calls asking me why I had missed bookings. I hadn’t missed any, as you know by now all the ‘work’ phones were blackberrys connected to his one which was like a ‘master’ phone. Our every move and message watched and he’d recently told me he had tapped into our personal phones and had details about our families… I tried to warn the girls of this when they stood round gossiping like girls do. What I had once thought were thinly veiled threats now had substance. This was the behaviour of a man who believed he was above the law and my paranoia was worse than ever.

He’d had the ‘Romanians’ working from his place in Manchester and I’d put a lot of bookings through for them too. They looked stunning on the website he advertised them on and he referred to them as his ‘work horses’. On a collection day (collecting his money from the flats) in Manchester he’d gone in to find the place empty. All girls had disappeared apparently and he was kicking off ranting and saying he was off to Romania and would I come too?! I asked why and he said he needed more girls now so would go back over and recruit some more, fly them over and get them working ASAP. It dawned on me that very moment that I was working for a pedophile, sex offender, pimp and human trafficker and it had just ‘levelled up’ on the sinister scale.

Fuck.

New young girls seemed to be coming and going all the time so much so I could barely keep up. Names were recycled and it seemed for every girl gone another was in the wings waiting. Emily’s emails were crazy but I believed her. It was always the same story when I’d asked the girls how they’d ended up here he was finding them on the internet, inviting them over for an ‘interview’ in mansions he had access to in Cheshire and was drugging them, raping them and then forcing them to work as prostitutes promising them better lives and seducing them with materialistic dreams of big cars and designed clothing. Lolly’s story was the same. The only one who’s differed was Susie’s Who as you know was the only ‘professional’.

I’d never really asked Ash how she’d gotten there, I didn’t want to pry with her. But now I was alone with her for the night and as much as I wanted to go home I never felt comfortable leaving a girl in that apartment by herself. ‘R’ thought it was because I wanted to earn too but truth was if anything happened there would be safety in numbers. ‘Kylie’ the new girl had just left and she’d had her first day in hell too, most girls seemed to like it at first because it felt so forbidden and the money was too good to be true. Kylie went off with a smile and promise to return she too had had her ‘induction’ with ‘R’ and she’d not seemed put off. ‘Kylie’ was beautiful and buxom but also deaf in both ears and wore hearing aids. Her self esteem was through the floor and yet she was the sweetest girl. I liked her so much I hoped I didn’t see her again – I did though.

That night with Ash and I alone we got to chat and laugh and I realised Ash was super sweet, intelligent and just wanting to earn money to give the best to her little boy. We were similar- I had wanted to earn money to ‘save’ my parents from financial devastation but it wasn’t happening. I had been sending money back to pay the finance on my car so that HE could use it but had learned my dad had let the finance company take it away 😦

It all felt too much for me at times because on one hand if I went to the police the girls would blame me for ruining the business and they wouldn’t know where to go (though there are lots of operating brothels in the north west that advertise all over the Internet). But if I didn’t do anything I felt that something horrendous even more so than what had already happened was about to. Whatever I did it would upset somebody but you gotta just weigh it out.

Robbie had asked if I wanted to get away for a few days and go down to Cornwall to meet his family! Jesus that was a bit soon but I said yes. Again I would have to ask permission and make it into a lie so ‘R’ didn’t know what I was really doing. Knowing ‘R’ would set out to ruin things for me if he got wind of the fella…..

I was going to face my fears in Cornwall because we were A. Flying there and I am terrified of flying and B. I was going to ask Robbie what to do. I needed to get this shit off my chest properly with someone not involved. If he was going to love me entirely he’d have to love me warts n all!

Love Lo xxxx

I said maybe…. your gona be the bar that saves me…

Hey! I’m Lo for those of you who don’t know me yet from my rather jaw-dropping confessions that I write about on this here blog.  Well, this time I’m not here to write about misery and sadness (shock horror), nope, instead I’m here to tell you about my jaw-dropping skin results!

So you’ve heard of the the wonder bra right? It does wonders for your tits!? Well now the amazing geniuses behind new brand Carbon Theory bring you the ‘Wonder-Bar’ that does wonders for your zits! Seriously though, it really does. In a world where we are constantly being told ‘Buy this you NEED it, it will eliminate spots, bad memories, wrinkles, fine lines to deep furrows and all your student debts’ it is hard to know what genuinely works and what isn’t just some glossy-pretty-packaged load of tosh endorsed by flawless bloggers and celebs. I mean I’ve bought so much ‘tosh’ I may as well have set a light to my money and watched it burn – I shit you not, I’d probably have a perfectly pedicured foot on the property ladder by now because I’m convinced the ‘tosh’ I’ve bought equates to a deposit on a house. Hands up if your sick of it, and hands up if you need to transform your skin-care regime, fight the dreaded spots (including huge boil-like cystic acne ones) but want to do it without breaking the bank?! YES YES YES I hear you all scream!  Well look no further because this girl won’t lie to you, I won’t BS you when it comes to what works and what doesn’t as I think its morally wrong and I recognise the bigger picture!

Carbon Theory’s ‘Wonder-Bar (Its actually called ‘Charcoal & Tea Tree oil breakout-out control facial cleansing bar) is £6 from Boots or their website. £6!!Cheap as chips! Affordable for ALL which is when it comes to skin-care I think its important. Beautiful skin should be achievable for EVERYONE and not just those with deep pockets.

My skin got me down so much in my twenties especially and I tried EVERYTHING, from expensive dermatologists that I whacked on my credit cards to Roacutane that left me a quivering wreck and experiencing some very dark thoughts. I also tried £300 miracle creams that again didn’t work. I’ve had skin care regimes that involved tonnes of different products and were quite frankly exhausting. Last year I came off Doxycycline after 7 years straight on it – no breaks – its a powerful and super strong antibiotic that often left me nauseous and suffering from thrush all the time (sorry peeps but gotta be honest here). I had also tried Proactiv+ (endorsed by Katy Perry and Jessica Simpson) which at first seemed to be great but then ended up giving me an allergic reaction that gave me big weeping sores around my hairline (very attractive) and they bloody hurt too – emotionally and physically.

Imagine being told  “You’ve got a lovely face, its such a shame you have such bad skin”

Well theres a ‘double-entendre’ if I ever did hear one! My skin wasn’t just ‘bad’ it was bloody hellish, painful and impossible to cover with even the likes of the amazing ‘Double-wear’. To say it got me down is an understatement.  I eliminated dairy, smoking, caffeine, and almost everything I found fun but to no avail. For the majority of my twenties I was also pretty bloody skint like most of us are and so the Dr suggested the cheap NHS subsidised antibiotics but again – they didn’t work. I’d convince myself they were working so would get them on repeat just because I could. Every special event in my life such as my wedding day, my graduation last year in the summer (that I never thought I would see because for years I was a bloody joke and had little direction and made enough mistakes for every twenty something woman in England) to uni Law Ball’s with my classmates were marred by huge hormonal cystic spots. Like most young women I was pretty insecure anyway and these spots led to even greater feelings of insecurity and anxiety and there were many occasions where I declined offers of nights out because I felt so shit about my face.

On countless occasions I turned up to the Doctor’s complaining about my skin and I was treated like I was a nuisance – like it was something I should put up with or go and take privately. Not one doctor took me seriously with one trying to convince me that I must have Polycystic ovaries which by the way I definitely don’t after four tests all saying my ovaries were doing just fine – Praise be! Many doctors offered me contraceptives as a treatment for my acne but being almost forced to take hormonal contraceptives doesn’t sit well with me after my experiences with them and one particularly rude female doctor who said

“Your 27 I wouldn’t be getting contraception, I’d be thinking about having kids”

It wound me up so so much! Anyway…

One fine day I was aimlessly scrolling Instagram when I saw _Myskinstory ‘s post advertising Carbon Theory’s wonder-bar and I thought why the hell not give it a go?! The only thing I had to lose was painful spots and £6 if it didn’t work. It arrived in pretty packaging, in quick time and was just so simple – Use twice daily. For all you vegans out there its cruelty free too 🙂 (after working in an animal testing centre in New Zealand I can absolutely say there is no need to test on animals, it is simply barbaric and cruel but that’s another story). I can honestly say that THIS WORKS!!!!!! It truly works! In two weeks my skin was clear and I mean clear! Seriously though nobody has paid me for this as I’m simply not that important (yet 😉 ha) and nobody has asked me to write some BS blog post on why YOU need this bar! But really you do NEED this bar because its changed my life and as dramatic as that sounds its true! My spots are gone, I don’t wake up with new fresh heads of hell on my jawline and I even feel confident to go out without as much make up on. To put it bluntly Im feeling pretty smug 😉 I even fell asleep with a face full of makeup and didn’t wake with one new spot! Woo Hoo!

I believe this bar is good for ALL ages, for those with what we deem ‘normal’ teenage skin problems and for those who like me have much more serious cystic spots going on that need to get gone. Carbon Theory have also just released a new moisturiser too which I’m also super excited to try. This bar though like many products out there for bad skin doesn’t dry my skin out at all yet it does seem to control the oil production and I am less ‘shiny’ without appearing old. I think one of the most common questions I’d ask my girlfriends growing up was

“Do I look shiny?” because I produce enough oil to supply a chippy.

Anyway enough of my rambling and trying to convince you! Just try it yourselves! Trust me this worked for me and I have the proof… The pics say it all!

You won’t regret it!

Love Lo xxx

Good Grief

Sorry its been a while, Ive been dealing with grief – or trying to. The inevitable hit me hard like a tonne of shit-covered bricks and I wailed like I’ve never wailed before. The physical gut-wrenching pain that feels as though you will never be the same again needs to be spoken about more, we need to talk more about grief ‘period’ (as the Americans say). All I can say is a big fat ‘Thank you’ to my wonderful hubby Robbie (yes the Robbie in my blog is now my husband) he has been wonderful, kind, loving and held me when I cried so much I shook and felt it would never end. I don’ think it does end actually, I just think we learn to control ourselves a little better, but right now I’m not quite there. I hear a song – I cry, I smell her perfume – I cry, I see photos and I cry, basically I am a crying, quivering fucking wreck but I’m ok with it. Picking up her ashes from Heathrow Airport was pretty emotional too, it had been a long time since we’d been together and I felt it was right. It just felt like it was the last thing I could do for her – Literally. I cried the entire way to Heathrow, I wore my big huge sunglasses on the dark carriages of the tube as the salty little shits crept out my eyes without warning. Sometimes I know when I’m about to cry, but grief means that one minute your ok and the next your face is bright red and someone asks if your ‘ok’ which we all know makes the situation worse though they only mean well. To the cute new mum in Terminal 3 that day when I collected the most precious person I’ve ever met from an airport I want to thank you, thank you for hugging me while I cried standing there all alone in the terminal, thank you for your kind words and letting me peek at your beautiful bundle of joy who was just perfect. There we were  standing in arrivals, both of us with homemade signs – you just looked so cute unpacking the large A3 size poster sign you had made that you then stuck on your pram that read ‘Welcome home Daddy’ whilst your beautiful new born baby girl lay asleep totally unaware just how impactful she really was. It is true what they say ‘Where there is death there is life’ and as a very sceptical suspicious person who doesn’t tend to believe in ‘airy fairy bollocks’ I just know you were meant to be there that day. You being there signified life whilst I waited patiently with my pink card that read ‘Mum – Marion Talbot XXX’.

You see I’d told my sister (Annabel) that I’d make a sign so the lady bringing mum through would know it was me, I said I’d make it in pink because mum and Annabel always mocked me for being a bit tacky and aged 15 declaring I would call my children after the members of Destiny’s Child to which they pissed themselves at me. I guess it was my own fault for making a sign that suggested I was waiting for my living mum when in fact I was waiting for her ashes. People looked and smiled as I stood by the bit in ‘T3’ where that famous scene in ‘Love Actually’ was filmed, they smiled thinking how sweet I was being not knowing why I was really there, they smiled at me and the cute lady side-by-side waiting for the most important people in our lives. I was shaking like a nervous school girl as I waited for the family friend-of-a-friend who happened to be coming from New Zealand to England and kindly offered to bring mum back to the motherland. I was terrified I’d missed her and mum would get lost somewhere in Heathrow never to be found, cute lady was also terrified she’d missed her partner too who had been delayed making his way back from his business trip which was the first one he’d been on since their daughter was born. We kept waiting and stood there together for what felt like hours yet was probably more like 45 minutes, I turned and said

“Your sign is lovely, its proper made my day” I wasn’t lying – it really did make my day

she said “Thank you, yours is nice too, how long since you last saw your mum?”

Of course she was being kind and nice and not knowing what I was going through, the tears once again streamed down my cheeks and my foundation ran just like it did when I was in High School. She hugged me immediately momentarily letting go of her pram’s handle she clutched so protectively. She transferred her motherly love and compassion to me for those 30 seconds and smiled at me as she pulled away saying

“I know what your going through, Its ok to cry”

Her partner came through before mum did and I watched his face literally light up as he embraced her with nothing but pure love, I swear he’d have hugged the pram and picked it up too if he could.

The friend of the friend shortly followed and cute lady, baby and partner had just left after giving me another reassuring hug before leaving. The lady bringing mum saw my pink sign and smiled at me kindly then giving me another hug I was being showered with hugs and for a non-huggy type of person I was loving the physical human interaction. Friend of a friend said it was a pleasure to bring such precious cargo through and typical of me I said

“I do hope she behaved and didn’t talk the hind legs off a donkey like she normally does”

I laughed through my tears snorting ever so slightly knowing mum would be sniggering too.

That day went surprisingly well considering it was me and anyone who knows me knows I’m scatty, often late, often running somewhere with tickets in my hand and my handbag open making the super organised types very uncomfortable at the sight of me. Thats just how I roll and thats me, I’ve just come to accept it but for that day picking up my mum I’d made it in good time,collected her and bought her home to be with me so we could finally spend some time together after years apart. It felt good, it was ‘good grief’, it was such an emotional experience I cannot find the words. Since that day 4 weeks ago I have felt a genuine change in how I think, how I want to live my life and how not to take things for granted. Its possibly the most cliché and expected thing to say but material things, social media and moaning about first world problems just seem gross when considering the grand scheme of things. I know many people say it but my mum truly was one of the kindest most decent people ever to have graced this planet – the world was genuinely a better place when she was alive. The good always go too young, she put up with a hell of a lot but, in fact she went through hell for many years but she was awesome, her heart bigger than a Lionesses, her strength unfathomable and she will never be forgotten.

My next blog post will be up this week following on from part 13. I want to do this, I want to make my mum proud and speak out when something is wrong – she taught me that. She taught me that when something is wrong we must say something, she didn’t practice what she preached to me in terms of her putting up with certain people but she taught me to be fearless and say enough is enough because she wanted more for me just like I will want more for my children and family one day. One last Thank you to my cousin Tim who my mum loved very much – so much she chose him to be my god father, thank you for being a brilliant god father when I was a kid and thank you for your kindness recently too, may mum and Aunty Janet be up there drinking, smoking and having a ball with Nana too and of course being reunited with some beloved pets too.

I love you Mum

“Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport…”- Hugh Grant (Love Actually, 2003).

Part XIII Plans and Pizza

It’s been a long time and I’m sorry. It’s January and I don’t know about you but I’ve tried not to feel blue and its just not gone down as I’d hoped. January really sucks and the rain hasn’t stopped. If your like me and not yet a home owner then the looming February rent to pay (which is actually much higher than a mortgage would cost me) is making you feel a bit sick and your praying to god everyone actually pays you on time. So yes ‘Anxious Annie’ has reared her bitch self and taken a hold of me the past two weeks so I’ve been in a rut. I mean I’ve also been super busy working my ass off too so have been zonked out most nights by 10pm. I’m not going to complain though because I am my own boss which is what I always wanted. I’ve had my fair share of arsehole bosses, the worst of them whom my blog is based on so I am eternally happy that I no longer answer to jumped up woman-haters or shit managers.

As some of you read, I wrote a post in support of the ‘Times Up’ movement regarding the treatment we received from the police when we complained about ‘R’, we were effectively dismissed, not taken seriously and there was ‘obvious’ stereotyping. I was told by an ex-copper now turned successful crime author that I should base my blog on the truth – yes those were her words. This really shocked me and it hurt fucking bad that someone not believe me yet AGAIN and that they genuinely thought this blog had been written by some fantasist attention seeking female…YAWN I got upset and let it fuck with my equilibrium (one of my besties always tells me not to let shit fuck with my equilibrium, I should listen to her more). My response was normal, I’d put something out there that is controversial and speaks badly of the police (which I found out after formally complaining about them that not many people like because they don’t want to believe it) but lets be clear now shall we – everything I write here is the truth, sadly it did all happen. I quickly realised that not everyone reading what I write here is going to like it, and that’s ok. C’est la vie that’s life! I am waffling now so I’m going to apologise for my shit lazy ass miserable self with my first world problems and excuses of late and hope you enjoy it! Happy New Year too (its a little late I know but I hope its going well and it will be your best yet, unless your a prick and I don’t like you then in that case I hope you stub your toe REAL bad).

I left you with Lolly. Sweet, dainty, elfin Lolly. She left a lasting impression on me because she was so different; she seemed destined to be a star or a casualty, or maybe both – like Amy Winehouse maybe. Lolly like all the girls needed me to save them and this new rule ‘R’ had made me more determined to get my plan sorted. After we got back from her meet, ‘R’ arrived to the flat for his daily fuck. Fucking bastard I thought, but hey like I was going to say anything. Serena and Susie were there too and he took Lolly off into the bedroom to have his way with her, Serena looked relieved and I felt it too but still some poor girl had to endure what we all had too. 20 minutes later Lolly emerged with a bit more cash in her hand and her tights now not worth wearing, ‘R’ left quickly after and had bought more supplies; condoms, towels and toilet roll. When he left Susie quizzed Lolly on one what he’d done to her, shaking her head with disgusted saying

“My god, your crazy girl, crazy, why you let him do that to you?”

Susie knew the answer but she asked anyway, I think we all asked ourselves or each other at times to deflect the fact we hadn’t yet made a stand against his criminal behaviour. We were all guilty of accepting it in some way shape or form but none of us were strong enough or brave enough to do anything, maybe some of us were used to this we didn’t see it as wrong? I know Susie – the hardened one amongst us must have seen some crazy stuff, she’d told me about the time she worked in Germany in a ‘super-brothel’ where they have rooms with panic buttons in case they have trouble, they also had security guards on each door too. Susie said she’d been with a guy for hours and he’d been on the usual; cocaine and whiskey and turned nasty because he couldn’t get a hard on…. urgh I knew the type we had them all the time on the weekends, the lads who’d been out all night coming in early hours of the morning on the weekend coked up to their eyeballs and a bad case of ‘shrivel-dick’. They’d then get mad at the girl because they are pumped up from the snow but their man-hood wont do shit, and yet its not their fault, no of course not its her fault. Same for Susie in Germany; this guy had turned aggressive and tried to strangle her but luckily she had a panic button and a security guard! What did we have? Jack fucking shit and it bothered me all the time. Anyone could come in and attack us as well as steal our money, rape or even kill us these thoughts were always present in my head but ‘R’ would tell me I was ‘hysterical’ whenever I suggested it.  We were so vulnerable in many ways, like sitting ducks and I felt anxious 24/7.

I’d not been very good with messaging Robbie back and to be honest the thought of us being together terrified me. It so true what they say when you’ve been hurt so badly you just expect it will all end up ‘tits-up’ so I’d gotten to the point where I thought why bother? I mean yes, I definitely believed it was love at first sight but I also thought I had a tendency to romanticise things and so didn’t make it a priority. I certainly wasn’t off him but because he had the wife and son to deal with I wasn’t going to the one pressing, no one was going to label me a home-wrecker

My priority was making my plan, the one in which was going to ensure we all got out alive. I’d seen too many girls come and go and it frightened me, sometimes I wondered if they were just smarter than us lot who stuck around and then sometimes my mind raced with all things dark suggesting they met horrible fates or at least would. It sounds mad to say it but everyday felt like I was dicing with the death and I just knew that if I didn’t do something then that impending doom was going to come true. Emily had got in touch with me and I’d managed to text her a few messages, I let it play out politely first asking her if she was ok and what she was doing. We exchanged niceties and then came the message I’d hoped for. She didn’t hold back at all and let me know exactly what she thought of him; she was also surprised that I was still there saying that she thought I had more intellect. It shocked me a bit but I needed it, this all coming from an 18 year old girl; even she who I had thought was really messed up and had questioned at times if she even had a conscience clearly had one even she was bloody shocked at me being there. I told her the truth, I said I was scared and I told her I wanted to get help. She agreed with me and so that she became a little part of my plan. Bloody hell we were beginning what would be a long fight. I asked her if she would email me a short statement (as such) about what he did to her, thankfully she agreed and the next day I received it in my email. By this time I was fully paranoid though, I felt ‘R’ had me bugged just like the flat had been that day when I’d heard it in the car. Paranoia is such a bitch and it weighed down on me so hard, I wondered if he would hack into that email and find it then do something to me but I risked it anyway. Who else to trust though?

Lolly had left and I had messaged her a few times at ‘R’s’ request but then I she’d ignored it many times. Fuck I didn’t blame her! I was also really worried she was still being pimped out though or getting herself into awful situations so I decided to text her from my phone this time. She replied. Thank the lord she was alive!

Me: Can I ring you? I’m not in the flat, on way home just wanted to catch up?

TeenLolly: Sure, I’m free now

We spoke for nearly 30 minutes and she was just like Emily; totally different than what she’d showed me. She was articulate, intelligent and also told me she wasn’t coming back as he was a creep and she didn’t like him. She was now in London already, it was weird as growing up as a teenager you’d hear about these teens who go missing or go off to the city and run away from home but someone like me from little old Norfolk had never known any ’til now. Agreeing with her I let her know that I wasn’t into him either and wanted to get the fuck out. I asked her where she’d come across him and it was always the same thing ‘On the internet’.  A predator on the internet promising vulnerable young women a better life then grooming them and trapping them in a flat to be pimped out and earn him money as well as be on tap for whenever he had the urge.

“I’m going to go the police about him ya know?”

“What you gona say?”

“Dunno yet but this has to stop its fucking wrong, I’m scared because he’s getting worse, how old are you really?”

“He made me a fake ID, told me not to tell you, said it would be fine, I just wanted to earn some money to get away but I wasn’t going to sleep with that creep for free”

“I know hun, he’s a sicko, I honestly felt sorry for you and wanted to do something but I just feel so scared”

“I know, I get it. When you going to go to the police?”

“Well like I said, I dunno yet, I need to get people to support me, I can’t do it on my own. They won’t believe me and its deffo power in numbers in this sito”

“Ok well i’ll tell the truth”

“Will you? Your not scared?”

“Nope no way, give them my number”

“Great! Well I got another girl to email me a statement thing so I can take it in the station with me”

“I can’ do that just yet as I have no way of emailing but when I do I will, ok? Stay in touch though and you can give them my number”

“Diamond. Thanks, I got to go, I’ll call you soon”.

Oh my God. Another one. This plan was going to work but the people I really needed on side were Serena and Ash. Susie never really experienced ‘R’ abusing her in the way the others did, as I said – she was too old for that pervert her tits too big, her figure too juicy. ‘R’ liked the ‘ironing boards’ the tiny petite ones thats why he chose the kids. I have no doubt in my mind he’d have gone younger eventually. I reckoned I could trust Selena, we got on fab like a house on fire, she’d tell me about the books she read and cliche as it sounds I’d get lost in the worlds of the tales she told me and it was moments like that that got me through the shit. I’d bonded with her even more after being sent out on an ‘overnighter’ with her to The Atlantic hotel in Liverpool. I still have a picture of us dolled up off to ‘entertain’ and it wasn’t so bad going in pairs. She looks so baby-faced in the pic and has huge fake eyelashes on that make her look like Twiggy. That night was a blast actually, the guys were really nice super drunk and on a stag do, they weren’t getting anything up that night thank fuck. I really hated the fact ‘R’ was forcing me into these situations but then It was £650 cash in hand after he’d taken his £350 fee. Serena and I had these pair of lummox’s ordering us Domino’s pizza and movies from the hotel TV. They had eventually fallen asleep by 3am and so we legged it with the cash as soon as we could. We laughed and laughed like Thelma and Louise – we were very lucky that night.

Ash was a funny one, she always had been. I had sussed out that in Liverpool families often hate each other one minute and the next minute are posting pics all over Facebook gushing about each other like nothing ever happened. I didn’t work like that and that’s why I hadn’t wanted to have anything to do with my dad, I don’t forgive and forget so easily. Ash had always been stand offish with me, it was ok she though I got it. She thought I was some posh wanker and who wanted to keep all the jobs for themselves but she’d got that wrong. I didn’t want any of the ‘jobs’ and happily went out to get her more work so she could pay for her baby. Over the months she’d relaxed a bit with me and when she loosened up we’d have a right laugh taking the piss outta people or doing impressions (mainly me doing impressions, I’m quite good ya know). Ash’s dad had recently got out of jail or something like that and had reappeared in her life getting his new girlfriend to work at the flat too. I found this so fuckt up that her own Dad had his girlfriend working in a brothel where his daughter worked? WTF. Oh well it had seemed to be working for them at the time so who was I to judge? They were desperate for cash and they saw what Ash was getting, I guess that’s why many get into crime anyway, the less privileged in society wanting material things that they weren’t going to get unless they did it in unsavoury ways, stories of those who’ve come from nothing are rare and its bloody hard to get ahead when you’ve not been shown how. I felt the same though, I got that bit too, I wanted a nice car, nice bags, good clothes, to appear successful and rich but had no other way of getting there other than doing this either. Ash would be the hardest nut to crack she was likely to go one way or the other, her upbringing meant that she inherently hated the police, she’d only recently gotten her electronic tag off herself and regularly referred to them as ‘scum’ ‘pigs’ and ‘filth’. No way would she back me up even after what ‘R’ repeatedly did to her, she forgave him too just like she did her parents. Its a cycle depending on what day you catch them on its like wondering who your going to get and I had to play it the right way. I thought about it all the time and knew that out of all of us she had probably endured some of the worst abuse from him, but what I did know for sure was she wasn’t recruited in the way the young girls were, they were recruited in a much more sinister manner involving them being drugged and raped in hotel rooms or fancy mansions all over the North West. It didn’t matter though, none of it was ok. I was going to start chatting to Serena about it and ask her views on Ash helping us. I trusted Serena now too.

I’d messaged Robbie back and we’d agreed to meet finally as I’d been putting him off and it wasn’t on purpose it was genuinely for an easier life from ‘R’. Robbie had said that whether I liked it or not he was coming to mine with pizza and a bottle of wine, thankfully I was still allowed home at nights when I wanted to now and since coming out of hospital I had an excuse that I wasn’t afraid to use but I hadn’t managed to get anyone to do the phones, in all honesty I needed the commission from the bookings that would go through and only I could make the money like that. Robbie said he had BIG news for me and it actually filled me with dread. I wanted him to be everything I imagined about true love but I also didn’t want to feel pressurised into something that might end badly but then he’d dumped his wife and family for me? That was some heavy shit and I already had heavy shit to deal with but speaking with Robbie made me more determined to end up out of it and lead a normal life. I was excited for Pizza but also afraid to eat in front of guys too, now I was out of hospital I cared a bit more about what he thought of me and I had that thing most girls do where they’re afraid to eat for fear of being looked at as a fat pig with no self-control….. yup most girls are nodding right now?

Anyways fuck the pizza for now, I had to get in touch with Lolly again so she didn’t forget about what she’d promised and I had to get Ash ALL the jobs and keep her in my good books. Plus the more she was booked out the less chance she had of that creep choosing to fuck her after he’d done a day in the office as the star accountant he was from 9-5.

 

Love Lo xxx

 

He lied… Part XII

He lied. Turns out like most other men I’d come across this one was no different. I should have known he had absolutely no intention of inviting me round for just ‘coffee. Oh no, more fool me; once again I’d believed a man. I didn’t want coffee anyway, I much preferred tea just like he’d served and this little lie I’d let go. It turned  out we both love ‘Yorkshire Tea’ too – result! Robbie was the perfect gentleman when I’d been round, he tried no funny business and had even got the custard creams in (I’d happened to tell him whilst in hospital that they were my fave). We’d spent two hours laughing and joking awkwardly whilst I sat perched on his black pleather couch feeling riddled with guilt that it belonged to him and his wife. I looked around the room of his modest terraced house in a shitty part of Southport. MDF, black pleather and red everywhere. I hate red. It not only reminds me of flat 16 where sheets and lamps were red but it’s just a tacky colour for a home; shiny red backsplashes and feature wallpaper with red flowers is gross and I hoped badly that it was her choice and not his. I couldn’t live with a man who didn’t like traditional interiors and instead liked what I snobbishly called ‘classless tat’. Pictures of his beautiful son were everywhere, with only one picture of them together – their wedding day. God I wished I hadn’t clocked that pic but at the same time I couldn’t help but look as he boiled the kettle. I wanted to see if I could spot any odd body language between the pair of them, as I’d once read in my mums ‘Take a break’ that body language showed us so much more than we realised. She looked glum and he looked hung over, her dress was rank and it wasn’t me being bitchy it was just not nice and drowned her tiny petite Filipino frame. I was no body language expert but that didn’t look like true love and happiness to me!

Two hours spent with the man of my dreams had made me feel even better about my future, though I still had no idea what was going to happen. I wanted him badly but I wasn’t going to be a mistress and certainly not a home wrecker. He’d asked me about what I was going to do now I was out of hospital, I told him how I still wanted to go back to college and become a vet. Robbie encouraged me and said I should go for it, no man had ever encouraged me to do something good for myself, not my dad, nor my ex husband, actually only one teacher Mr.Hanton who always told me I’d end up as an author. Robbie was genuine, calming and most of all he believed in me. There were many questions about ‘R’ and he informed me he’d spoken to Kath the nice nursey who had listened to me break down that day in hospital. She’d broken confidentiality by telling him but I didn’t mind, I was glad he knew because other than him I had no one I could tell. My old friends wouldn’t understand and my new friends Susie et al wouldn’t either, not yet anyway. Robbie only got the information I gave him, he knew the bare minimum, as I couldn’t have anyone steam rolling my plans and freaking out after realising what danger we were really in.

That night was busy on the phones and rob had text me several times yet I hadn’t replied. I couldn’t, I had no time to though I’d read them.

“Shall I bring pizza to yours one night next week?”

Yes yes! I loved pizza and him so that was a plan. I’d have to sort a night off with Ash or Serena so I could spend it phone free and I’d pray to god one of them would do it, I often felt totally alone in this and was desperate for more girls to offer to take the phones but they weren’t total mugs like me. Even if I was ‘off’ I was never was phone-free because they rang me every 5 minutes. They always needed constant reassurance or to be told if someone was a time waster or not, I’d become quite hardened to the time-wasters like a tough land-lady not entertaining the dick heads. Problem was even though I saved all punters numbers in the phones they often rang from different digits. We used to calls all the time from unknown numbers, ‘R’ told me to answer these too as men were just protecting their identity; poor men needing to make sure they were safe from being caught out by their wives, and obviously they didn’t want us girls having their real number in case we felt compelled to call them afterwards because obviously their performance in the sack was mind blowing… dick heads! I didn’t agree with taking bookings from unknown numbers but hey I had no power so just did as I was told. This one lad would ring all the time, divulging his sick fantasies about young kids, he would ring all the time telling us he was in Maccy D’s in Kirkby waiting to kid nap little boys. It made me so sick and angry and all I wanted to do was report him, it got so bad at one time I’d said to ‘R’ I was going to but he went mad at me saying the guy wasn’t doing anything bad and just being an attention seeker. Serena would listen to him and abuse him and Ash would hang up, he often rang up to 100 times a day, getting the number off the various websites ‘R’ had up offering ‘his girls’. When I think about that sick caller I often wonder and pray to god that the bastard has been caught and locked up. To me, it should be simple; we report those who are committing crimes, but not in Liverpool. You don’t snitch, you don’t grass you just accept, keep your head down and move on.

The day after my ‘tea-date’ I was back in the flat, Angel was supposed to be coming but she’d cancelled last minute with some rather crazy excuse about her family. The girls always had elaborate, crazy stories as to why they couldn’t come in, the more crazy the more credible it seemed to them, none of us wanting to just say

“I don’t feel like being fuckt for cash today, in fact the thought is making me sick, and to think of you touching me too is quite frankly going to send me over the edge”

Maybe their tales of woe and misfortune were true? I felt shocked at myself for feeling angry that Angel hadn’t turned up, it meant I might not make as much money as every booking that went through I got a percentage of. Ffs I’d not got anyone else who I could pass of as a ‘teen’, Ash had been seen by everyone it felt and we always needed fresh meat. Susie couldn’t do them either as she was so obviously ‘seasoned’ and offered a totally different experience. ‘R’ had rang me saying that we had a couple of new girls and would I look after them. Of course I would, that was my job but I also had definitely taken the role on as carer too. I realised I was a madamn/maid and felt a real sense of responsibility for them. Susie’s ‘care’extended only to certain girls and since she’d been hitting the ‘lemmo’ harder she had become less bothered especially when it came to the ‘teens’. It was an obvious jealousy as she grafted and put the hours in but the teens just got everyone most days. I didn’t blame her for being miffed at them, she saw them as playing at it and naive and stupid, she saw it for her as a legitimate source of income and profession.

That afternoon the first girl ‘Isabel’ arrived, she was 6ft tall with huge boobs and a baby face. An hour late wasn’t acceptable I’d warned her but luckily her guy was running late too so she managed to get their two minutes after he’d arrived. It was John the reg and as you now know he loved to be the first guy with the new girls. He was a sure thing. 40 minutes later (John always pushed his luck with time limits) she’d got her money and told me she was off to the shop for cigs, she’d be coming back though… Yeh heard that one before and sure enough she was gone.

“These bloody girls”

In her thick Hungarian accent Susie then said

“Stupid girl, told me she was only 14 and off out after this to go drinking in a blokes flat”

“14? What the fuck Susie?, 14? Are you fucking kidding me?”

“No. She said only 14, she looks so big though, but now she say it I believe”

“Oh god, this is terrible! I need to ring him”

I was so cross I shook. I was petrified and rang him immediately, luckily it had just been me and Susie in the room when she told me. I didn’t want Ash hearing that especially as she’s a young mother. Why had I bothered ringing him when I knew he wouldn’t care? I’d heard the exact things he’d say in my head before ringing him and yet lets face it he couldn’t do anything anyway. I got the whole ‘well its not our fault these bloody girls look so old now’ or ‘they come with fake ID I don’t know if its real or not’. The truth was he NEVER EVER checked them for anything other than whether they were willing to sleep with him for a job, their willingness was the test. The young girls who were barely in their teens turned him on, and later that afternoon confirmed it even more when I was sent the second underage girl of the day to ‘look after’.

“How old are you?”

“16, I mean 18” she said as she nervously giggled

“Where’s your ID?”

“Oh I have it, I gave it to him, he said he was bringing the photocopies for you tonight, I just look real young ha!”

“Ok, well he tells me your name is Lollipop but Lolly for short ok? And your here to make money for drama school?”

“Yeh I want to be an actress or something, I don’t know yet but I want to live in London and become famous”

“Wow, nice! Ok so have you done this before?”

“No, but I will be great at it I sleep with people for free all the time, may as well get paid for it I’m very eager to learn”

There was something so ‘Lolita-like’ about Lolly, a tiny tiny little thing, size 6 tops and about 5ft 2 inches tall with mass of long blonde curly wild hair which matched her demeanour. She was weirdly charming and innocent, sweet and just fairy-like, definitely child-like. A 90s style mini dress hung off her minute frame and her tights were ripped with only a small leather jacket to keep her warm in the rainy gloomy autumn days of Liverpool. She looked like Taylor Momsen as Jenny in Gossip Girl but not as old.  She also reminded me of Cassie from Skins too, massively in fact and that made me realise even more how vulnerable she was. I shouldn’t have been making her work; I should have gone straight to the ‘bizzies’ there and then. I was disgusted in myself and well, whenever people say there’s an angel on one shoulder and the devil on the other – well I now understood.

Off we went to a rich business mans pent house apartment in the city centre; his apartment was in one of the ‘poshest’ buildings and looked fab. ‘R’ had asked me to take dear little Lolly to her 4 hour booking (yes 4 hours because she was so young). It was odd because I’d not put this booking through myself ‘R’ had arranged it privately which was a first. I quickly realised after dropping her and waiting in the Starbucks whilst I decided whether I was going back to grab her or not that he’d set this up because he clearly was involved in some horrible ring of disgusting ‘men’ who liked pre-pubescent teens and it reminded me of ‘Taken’. Christ, I literally had to pinch myself all the time because I couldn’t believe half of it was going on. I’d had to escort her because ‘R’ was concerned she would go missing on the way, he was right she was certainly the type to go missing and I couldn’t understand where her family were and why they weren’t concerned for her safety; but neither were mine.

It dawned on me the severity of the problem, how many under age girls there truly were who were wayward, missing, vulnerable and at the mercy of disgusting predators who offered them food, shelter, money, mobile phones and attention. I’d also been informed that she would be staying the night and I was to feed and water her. I couldn’t wait to take her for a burger and nurture her after all she’d need it after that booking for 4 hours. I was terrified it would put her off; I didn’t want these young girls getting frightened. Still I wondered how he came about getting the girls, Serena had told me recently that she’d been drugged by him on their meeting for her job as a ‘receptionist’ and when she came round in the seedy hotel room he tried to make out everything was all ok and she’d fallen asleep. He’d also taken her out to some rich friends house who was away, it was a mansion in Greater Manchester and he’d once again abused her – this was before she was a semi-regular in the flat. There was way more going on than I realised with way more people involved too, I preferred not to ask him, he fed me constant bull shit anyway and so from that day with Lolly I decided to start writing things down. Names of girls, punters who wanted the super young, and accounts of what the girls had told me.

Emily had disappeared whilst I was in hospital but had popped up on my Instagram as someone to follow. She had seemed to have converted to Islam and was quoting passages from the Quran as well as posing next to pics of her boyfriend who was the reason she’d converted according to her ‘captions’. She was living in London and working in Boots which I was so happy to see, hopefully not doing anything dodgy anymore and I wondered if she’d perhaps tell me how ‘R’ had come to meet her too because despite everything else he was doing, this clear and obvious pattern was emerging and getting worse. It seemed ‘R’ was sourcing his girls in the most unsavoury and predatory ways and I wanted to hear from Emily what had happened to make her leave. I sent her a follow request and hoped she’d accept.

I was outside ready and waiting an hour before Lolly was due to emerge. I wanted to make sure she didn’t go anywhere, partly because she’d have at least £600 in cash on her but also because this was prime opportunity for her to disappear. Out she came with 30 mins to spare, he’d let her leave early and tipped her an extra £180. I let her keep it and told her not to say a thing, she was totally un-phased by it all and seemed in a daze, almost drugged up. Back we went to the flat walking through Chapel Street past Kurt Geiger where she dragged me in and bought the most ridiculous shoes that had 6 inch heels and made her even more like Bambi on Ice. She was a darling and I wanted to adopt her, I would definitely ‘save’ her and the rest very soon. ‘R’ had told me not to give her any of the rest of the cash and we now had a new rule: We keep the cash for the new young girls and only give them little bits at a time, that way they have to stay……

I agreed reaching a whole new low.