At the door she took my hand and, pulling out a pen from her shirt she wrote something on my hand. As she replaced the pen her fingers brushed upwards...over my bra-less left breast."Bye!" was all I heard as I stepped out into the blinding sunlight. I fumbled for my Raybans and tried to look as inconspicuous as I could on as I passed the market stallholders. Turning back on to Wardour Street I finally plucked up the courage to look at my hand. There in 'black on white' was a PHONE NUMBER.The. I had foolishly invested in an apartment I thought I could afford, bought a car which was going to keep me in debt for just about the rest of my life, as far as I could see – and all because of Paul. Where was he now? Fuck knows, but he’d gone, anyway, and, frankly, I didn’t care where – just so long as he didn’t come back. But I did care about being in debt. ‘You’ll be OK,’ he’d said, ‘no sweat, Julie, honest, they’ll just love you! Fifty grand a year, more in no time at all, you’ll see.’. More

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