One Thing Different - Part Four: Anna

I

Anna sighed. “I don’t see why I had to come in here with you when I could have been out shopping.”

Her husband James chuckled. “Well if you want to spend the money you have to earn it first. Didn’t anyone ever tell you that? You just wait out here. I’ll be out in ten minutes tops.” He gave the back of her neck a little tickle and she smiled back at him.

“I’ll be timing you.”

James talked to Mr Johnson’s PA and she put a call through. Anna took a seat on the big leather sofa nearby and started leafing through a glossy fashion magazine.

Less than a minute later a Japanese woman emerged from Johnson’s office wiping her mouth as though she’d just swallowed something. She walked to the lift opposite where Anna was sitting as James went on in closing the door behind him.

The Japanese woman was about the same age as Anna but she was clearly backward. Her mode of dress was too Asian. Her gawky body language illustrated her lack of confidence and underdeveloped social skills. She was a little plump and had a terrible overbite – in short, not the kind of woman that Anna would associate with – but there was something familiar about her.

Their eyes met and the woman too, seemed to be trying, and failing, to place Anna’s face. Then the lift dinged and opened and she disappeared. Anna turned back to her magazine and instantly forgot about her.

She wished that the world was a little bit more controlled than it was. She didn’t see why she had to be subjected to people like that who weren’t beautiful and intelligent. The wealthy should have handsome zones entirely separate from the weak-willed and ugly masses. If she had her way, that was how it would be.

She absently flicked to the next page and frowned when she noticed there was something odd about the picture there. The modelling shot was… very weird. Almost like there had been a mistake in the printing. Like the model in the picture was half erased.

Anna turned to the next page. That one seemed fine. She flicked back and shook her head. The picture looked fine now. The fading she’d seen had disappeared, though she was sure the model on there had been a brunette before, not a blond.

Not that it really mattered. It was in no way relevant to her.

James emerged from his business meeting ten minutes later and they rode down to the ground floor together in the elevator.

“What took you so long?” whined Anna playfully, tickling his chest with her index finger.

“Business is important,” he replied. “You want to have the money you need for all those shoes don’t you?”

She giggled. “Is that an offer to buy me some more?”

“Not right now. I have plans for us.”

“Ooo. What?”

James led her outside. Anna barely noticed the buck-toothed Asian cleaner mopping the floor in the foyer. “Well a new five star restaurant has opened outside of town and I thought I’d take you there for dinner. Then later I have tickets for the opera. How do you fancy that?”

Anna squealed in delight. “I’d love it!”

They got in James’s Lamborghini and he started the engine.

“Damn,” said Anna. “I need the loo. I wish I’d gone while I was waiting for you.”

“Do you want to go back in now?”

Anna chewed her lip then shook her head. “No. I’ll go at the restaurant. It won’t take long. And that cleaner was heading into the ladies room inside anyway. I’d have to wait for her to finish.”

The engine roared and they shot out into the traffic but it quickly became clear that waiting for the loo had been a mistake. The traffic was heavier than they’d expected and Anna found herself shuffling with discomfort.

“Isn’t there a quicker way than this?”

“Not really. But I know a shortcut further on. Just hold on for now. Don’t worry. We need petrol anyway so you can go there if they’ve got one.”

Anna grumbled to herself. She hated using public conveniences. That was another part of her theory. Rich people should never have to share any kind of space – especially that intimate kind – with the plebs.

James pulled into the petrol station and gave the engine one last rev (to show off) before killing it. He got out to put the petrol in and Anna walked into the shop.

It was a seedy place – not surprising as it backed onto Barton, the seediest neighbourhood in town.

The paint was peeling. There was rust on the metal beneath the chipped paint. Rubbish had blown in from the street and was gathered in little piles at the foot of the walls. Inside the shop was cluttered and narrow. Anna turned her nose up at the dingy lighting and claustrophobic atmosphere.

Behind the counter was an enormously fat dark-haired woman with a shapeless hairstyle and tired-looking eyes. She put on a fake smile – obviously bored out of her miserable skull – and said, “Any petrol?”

Anna took stock of the woman for a minute, immediately pigeon-holing her. This was clearly a girl who had dropped out of school early with no education to speak of. With no social life to speak of and no prospects she’d piled on the pounds from comfort eating and ended up working here in this horrible place all her life. Anna bet she did twelve hour shifts at a minimum, wasting her life away for no reason worth anything.

If Anna gave a shit about anyone she might have thought it was tragic. This woman had pretty features, despite her bloated flesh, cheap clothes and no-nonsense hair. In another life she could even have been a model. But instead, with no self control, she’d eaten her way here.

But she did look familiar somehow. Anna was almost sure she knew her, though she’d never been to this petrol station before – she would never normally lower herself to it – and this girl clearly didn’t operate in her circles.

In Anna’s perfect loser-free fantasy world, this obese woman would never have been allowed to live.

“Petrol?” said Anna. “No. My husband will be paying for that. Do you have some… restrooms?”

“No, sorry. Only staff ones; and my boss’d have a flid if I let you use those. Sorry.” The fat woman gave a little smile of apology then popped a half handful of Maltesers into her mouth and crunched them up.

Anna sighed, feeling more and more uncomfortable and went outside.

James had finished filling up and he went in and paid while Anna got back into the car and squirmed on the seat, wishing desperately that the stupid Asian cleaner at the TV studio hadn’t been blocking access to the toilet.

She made a mental note to get James to talk to Mr. Johnson and have her fired. That would show the chubby little immigrant.

James got back in and they pulled back out into traffic.

“How much further is it darling?” asked Anna.

“Not too far. Here’s the shortcut coming up.” He started to indicate to turn into the Barton estate.

“Oh no James. You can’t seriously be thinking of cutting through there!”

“Sure I am. We’ll be through in five or ten minutes and it’ll knock half an hour off the trip. Unless you think your bladder can hold that long…” He grinned.

“Fine. Just keep the speed up when you’re in there. It’s nothing but a festering hole full of drug dealers and prostitutes, vagrants, factory workers and the unemployed.”

“Your kind of place then.” James chuckled.

“Not hardly!”

He made the turn and they zoomed through the entrance to the estate.

At the corner was a large sign that said WELCOME TO BARTON in large letters. The sign was old and dilapidated, the paint scarred and faded. Some uncouth idiot had sprayed an extra message along the bottom of the sign and Anna sneered as she read it.

YOU’LL NEVER ESCAPE!

II

Barton was a seedy district that Anna had always avoided at all costs.

It was made up of ugly council houses and tumbledown blocks of flats covered with graffiti. There were rows of terraced housing without gardens and burned out cars. There were overgrown lawns and corner shops with thick wire mesh to protect the windows, thugs hanging around outside bearing bottles of white cider.

They passed the high street which was packed with sordid sex shops and charity shops selling only gaudy clothes from decades past. Every person they passed looked disheveled or whorish. The women wore lewd outfits flashing leg and cleavage while the men sported tattoos and beer bellies.

It was everything Anna hated and the one place she had personal experience of that she’d choose to be ground zero in an atomic blast.

The streets were narrow with rusty old cars and twisted back on themselves over and over again. None of the roads went anywhere for long before a bend came up and they went down three or four dead ends while James cursed, having to back the car up because the movement was so restricted.

More than one road curved round until it actually became a circle with spokes leading off. James was becoming increasingly tetchy as he didn’t realise it was a circle until he’d been round it more than once. In the end they came off not certain which direction they were even pointing.

And it was starting to get dark.

And Anna was needing the toilet increasingly more.

“Can’t you just get us out of here?” she whined. “We don’t even need to go to this restaurant of yours. I just want to get somewhere normal.”

“Just give me a minute,” snapped James. “We’ll be out of here in no time.”

But they drove on, turning corner after corner and they got no closer to finding the way out.

James pulled up at the side of the road where a car maintenance garage stood on a corner. Outside the front were two cars being worked on and several more for sale but the ones on sale looked easily ten years old and as though they might not even run.

“Why are we stopping?”

“To get directions.”

James wound his window down and smiled at the big man who sauntered across to see what he wanted. The man was huge with a round stomach and a balding head. His round double chin was covered in stubble and his upper lip had a thick moustache. His overalls were covered in oil.

Anna hated him instantly and the leering wink he gave her.

James asked him for the way off the estate and the man pointed, giving him a long list of complicated directions that left them both befuddled. And they had no toilet when James asked. Anna wasn’t sure to be annoyed or relieved. It most certainly would have been filthy but she was getting increasingly desperate.

Half an hour later they still weren’t off the estate and she was fidgeting in her seat. James pulled the Lamborghini in at the side of the road and bashed his fists on the steering wheel.

“I’ve never seen anywhere like this place! It’s a maze!”

Anna peered out the window. There was a scrappy area of muddy grass and then a dismal block of flats. It was past sunset now and darkness was really settling in.

“I need to pee so badly,” she said. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold it.”

“Well go there,” said James, pointing to the little public toilet block at the edge of the grass.

“In there? You have to be joking!”

He shrugged. “It’s up to you. We might not see anywhere else for a while and I’m not convinced we aren’t deeper into Barton now than we were when we entered. I’ve never seen this area before.”

“Oh God.” Anna chewed her lip. “Alright. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

She got out of the car and shivered, looking round at the ugly dark streets, expecting at any minute that there would be an attack from a gang. Only one person was visible a little way away: a black woman in skimpy clothing, waiting for someone to pick her up by the look of it. It looked like it was thinking about raining. Spots were already starting to fall.

Anna hurried into the toilet block, sneering in revulsion at the squalid interior with its purple flickering strip light and the broken sink and mirror. There were two cubicles but one toilet was literally full to the brim with faeces. Anna cried out in disgust and went quickly to the other, wishing there was some other alternative; but she was simply too desperate.

The other cubical had no door. Anna was going to have to do it exposed. She sighed angrily and raised her skirt, squatting over the toilet so that she didn’t have to touch it. She hated to think what diseases there were on it.

She felt instantly relieved to empty her bladder and quickly dried herself on the horribly cheap toilet paper. At least there was some!

She covered herself up and washed her hands then ran back outside, straight into a face full of rain. There was a thunder storm. The rain was pelting it down. She could barely see the car.

In fact she couldn’t see  the car!

Anna looked left and right desperately. She circled the toilet block, looking in every direction, but it wasn’t there! The Lamborghini was gone! James had left her there!

Surely that wasn’t possible but it had still happened!

She was stuck somewhere in the middle of Barton in the pouring rain with nowhere to go and no way of getting out!

III

Anna stood on the side of the road with her arms folded tightly against her chest in the driving rain, waiting for James to come back, cursing the fact that he’d driven off in the first place.

The entrance to the toilet block wasn’t facing the road so she couldn’t even wait in there for fear he wouldn’t see her and the weather was awful. It was like the heavens had opened and the rain was made of big icy cold drops that had already plastered her lovely full red hair to the sides of her face and drenched her clothes from head to foot.

Five minutes passed without any sign.

Ten minutes.

At fifteen minutes Anna realised that she couldn’t just stand there in that rain indefinitely. The cold and wet was actually becoming painful.

Regardless, she stayed there until a full twenty five minutes had passed and still there was no sign of her husband.

Anna screamed in desperation. She’d left her handbag in the car. She’d left her coat in the car. All she had on was her skirt and short sleeved top. She didn’t have a phone, ID or money. She didn’t even know which way was out of the estate to start walking!

The woman who had been standing further down the road was gone unsurprisingly. Anna eyed the block of flats across the little triangle of park with despair in her face. Going in there was the last thing she wanted to do but she had no choice.

She trudged across the grass, gripping the backs of her arms, desperate to stay warm, but half way across she slipped on the mud and went down hard, landing in two inches of freezing cold water that had gathered there in a dip in the grass.

“God damn it! Why is this happening to me?!”

She was soaked! And covered in mud! It was on her face; in her hair; all over her clothes! And where the hell was her shoe?

She scrambled up awkwardly but when she got half way up her arms slid out and she went back down, this time face first into the water and the mud. In the end she had to go to the edge of it on her hands and knees and when she finally struggled up she couldn’t see her shoe anywhere! And it had cost two hundred pounds for the pair! Just gone!

She snatched off the other shoe in a rage and hurled it as far as she could into the darkness.

The block of flats had walkways on the outside that ran along the side of the building on each level. On the first floor, Anna could see an open door with the lights on inside. It looked warmer than where she was now at least. And they’d have a phone.

She went up to the front of the building and sneered in disgust at the filth and the graffiti; the rust and the greasy fingerprints everywhere. Every piece of graffiti expressed nasty sexual comments at other people’s expense. It was horrible!

She hurried up the stairs; not wanting to risk the lift; and went along the walkway leaving wet footprints behind her on the dirty concrete. When she reached the open doorway she knocked but no one answered.

“Hello?”

There was no reply so Anna crept in. “Anyone home?”

There no sign of anyone but the interior of the flat was squalid in the extreme. There were black patches of damp on the walls and ceiling; no carpet on the floor. It was tiny inside, the kitchen area a festering pile of dirty pots. There were flies and was that – cockroaches! It was gross!

But it was dry and that was a relief. And she didn’t have to deal with some gribbly urban inhabitant. She chuckled. It actually reminded her of the party at Gemma’s the other night, when they’d all been joking about what one thing could have made their lives different. The look on their faces when she said hers! It had been priceless.

This looked exactly like the kind of place someone like that would live.

But there was no phone. That was the main problem. That’s what she really needed.

It had seemed warm from outside but there was clearly no functioning heating and the only light was a bare bulb hanging above the mattress on the floor. The place looked abandoned actually – lurid and profane graffiti splashed all over the cracked plaster walls – which was fine as far as Ann was concerned. She looked round for something to use to dry herself. There was a little tee towel and she swiped at her hair with that, but her clothes were sodden. She had to get out of them as soon as possible.

The only thing to do was to knock at other doors along the row and see if someone would let her use the phone.

Anna moved back toward the door but paused when she spotted a half open wardrobe. With a guilty glance at the open front door, she went over and pushed it further open with the back of two fingers. There weren’t many clothes inside but they were women’s clothes. She was sure no one lived here anymore, and what did it matter if they did? She needed some dry clothes. She could pay them off later if they caused trouble.

But the clothes were awful: one skimpy outfit after another; nothing practical at all. And they weren’t just skimpy! They were almost obscenely revealing. Each outfit spoke desperation in one form or another. Dry though they were, she couldn’t possibly wear any of this. Even the shoes were all stilettos and block-heeled sandles!

Anna turned her back on the tawdry little den of squalor and went back out onto the balcony, shaking her head and smiling at how bad it was.

The wind whipped her immediately, sucking what heat remained in her body, lashing her wet hair across her face. She hurried along to the next door and knocked.

After a minute a huge black man answered, his expression blazing with anger enough to make Anna flinch back in fear. “What the fuck do you want?”

“Er, hello,” she stammered. “I was wondering if—”

“Whatever you got, I ain’t buying,” he snapped and started to shut the door.

“Wait! I’m not selling anything! I’m just… I’m lost and I don’t have my handbag. I was hoping I could use your phone and maybe get warm inside.” She tried to smile but her teeth were chattering, she felt retched and she was terrified that at any moment this huge man would strike her – or something worse.

He looked at her with a surly expression for several moments, giving her body a quick eye. Anna wasn’t in the habit of using her body to get what she wanted but she was acutely aware that now would have been a good time not to have looked like a drowned rat. She wished she’d put on one of the skimpy outfits from next door after all. Maybe then this Neanderthal would help her.

“Get the fuck outta here!” he snapped and slammed the door, almost catching her hand in the frame.

Anna squealed and staggered back then slumped her shoulders and started to cry. She’d never had to deal with this kind of situation in her life. It wasn’t fair!

The next door didn’t answer. The lights were off and no one was home. The door after that, she could hear the people inside and the TV on but no matter how hard she hammered, they wouldn’t respond. The one after than was a surly Hispanic woman who shouted rapidly at her in some foreign language she’d never even heard before, pointing at her in the face repeatedly.

The door after that was a wizened old man who did nothing but stare at her breasts and leer lasciviously. When she mentioned a phone he closed the door in her face without a word, still not ever once making eye contact.

The wind and rain were even higher now and Anna was starting to fear she’d actually get a chill unless she got under cover. Knocking on doors wasn’t working and was actually frightening. She decided her best option was to go back to the abandoned flat and just wait out the weather – get warm – then walk out of there when the rain stopped. Or at least walk until she found someone who could help her.

She went back to the flat and closed the door. Even without heating it was instantly a relief to get out of the weather. Her clothes were sodden though and if she got pneumonia or something she’d be in serious trouble. She dried her bare arms with the tee towel and patted at her clothes uselessly.

She sat shivering on the chair for a while then decided, as long as the front door was locked, it was safe to get fully out of those clothes. She undressed and wrung them out, disgusted by the water that dripped onto the floor. Her bra and panties were damp too.

Faintly curious, Anna investigated a little. There were some drawers inside the wardrobe. She hadn’t planned to put on someone else’s underwear – which was gross and kind of weird – but she was sopping wet still and she shrugged. What did it matter?

She slipped out of her bra and panties, feeling suddenly very exposed. She wasn’t entirely sure this wasn’t someone’s flat still and if they walked in now they would see her in all her glory. She quickly grabbed a bra and slipped into it then pulled on some panties – that turned out to be a thong of all things! She’d never worn one of these in her life!

It was a wonder bra. It actually made her cleavage look sensational. Anna giggled, covering her lips with curled fingers. Then feeling a little bolder she had another look at the clothes hanging up. There was literally nothing that would warm her as such, but in for a penny, in for a pound. The best she got was a very revealing low cut stretch tank top with a zip down the front and a skirt that barely covered her crotch.

She climbed into them, relieved to be putting on dry clothes and then looked at herself in the mirror, giggling again at how she looked. The wonder bra and low cut top gave her a fabulous cleavage and the skirt really showed off her legs. Her hair was still lank and rain-dyed darker but she looked like a very sexy little slut. She grinned, planning to take these items home with her and try them out on her husband.

She chewed her lip for a minute then decided to go all the way and pulled a pair of black patent stilettos out of the bottom of the wardrobe and put them on, then she used one of the hair ties she’d seen in the knicker drawer to tie her hair up in a tight bunch on top of her head – a real slapper hairstyle with the clothes as well.

She laughed, posing at her reflection, cheered a little by the make believe. The evening wasn’t a dead loss. She would never have thought to do this in a million years but it was actually kind of exciting and fun! It was still awful that she was in this position but it just felt so… naughty to be sneaking in and stealing someone else’s clothes – playing dress up.

She smiled again, remembering what she’d said at the party – when she’d said the absolute opposite of the kind of person she was – playing around with what her life would have been like if she’d been—

She turned sharply, thinking she’d heard someone at the door but there was nothing – no sign of anyone.

Still wearing the slutty get-up she sat back down, she sat down, resting her chin on her hand, wishing she could be home in the warm. Her eyes wandered over the room, her nose wrinkling in disgust at the patches of rot on the fabric of the bedspread and the filth. There was little in the way of furnishings – probably all sold by the junkie that used to live there to feed their habit.

Her eyes fell on something by the bed and Anna tottered over to it to get a better look, kneeling down next to it.

It was a syringe, and a length of rubber tubing. And the syringe was filled with liquid. Heroin. Like the junkie had only just cooked it up and was about to use it.

Anna shivered with revulsion and sat on the edge of the mattress, her bare knees up in front of her face, arms wrapped round them. Looking at it.

It was disgusting. The needle looked slightly rusty and the heroin inside had tiny bits in it – impurities. Anna couldn’t imagine the path that would lead someone to live like this – to want to insert that filthy thing into their arm.

But she’d never seen anything like this in real life. It was fascinating. She couldn’t take her eyes off it, sitting there with her head resting on her knees.

She picked up the rubber tubing, getting the feel of it, wondering how it worked, what it would feel like to do that – to be the kind of person that would be desperate to do that.

She looked at the closed front door. Nothing.

Then she slowly and carefully tied the rubber tubing round her arm, using her teeth to pull it tight – just so she could see how it felt, that was all.

It felt kind of good. Her heart rate was rising. She looked down at her slutty outfit and round at the dingy room. She’d never been one for playing make-believe but she couldn’t deny how exciting it was to sit here dressed like that and imagine.

She picked up the syringe, feeling the weight of it. She didn’t blink as she held it vertically and tapped it then released the air bubbles like she’d seen them do on TV.

She wasn’t going to do it, but imagine if she did! Imagine putting it into her vein and pushing down the plunger! Imagine feeling that intense and dangerous forbidden high – the high she’d always wondered about.

But she wasn’t going to do it.

She stared down at the expanded vein at her elbow, then she stared into the murky liquid inside the glass tube. She held the syringe like it was meant to be held and poised it next to the vein, just pretending for a minute that she might actually do it, feeling herself actually grow wet at the tantalization of that image.

It truly was disgusting and probably disease-ridden.

But suddenly she pushed the needle into the vein, closing her eyes and gasping, just doing it, not caring what would happen. And then she pushed down on the plunger and filled her body with light.

Sordid dingy tainted light.

IV

Anna came too slowly; groggily; wondering where she was and what had happened.

Her whole body felt strange, like there was a tightening right through her – a constricting. She felt exhausted but warm – very warm. She was lying on her back but she didn’t recognize the ceiling. It was damp and filthy. It wasn’t her bedroom. Then she lifted her head and remembered the rain and the little flat. It all came back to her. She looked down her body at her bare legs and high heels splayed out across the filthy mattress, at her cleavage in the tight stretch top, and gaped. Her boobs looked enormous! Surely that wasn’t just because of a wonderbra!

She sat up to get a better look and winced. Her crotch was sore. She didn’t know why. And so was her arm where she’d injected herself. She couldn’t believe she had done that!

But it had felt so good! So so good! She closed her eyes and smiled to remember it, rubbing her breast with one hand and teasing the nipple.

She didn’t know why her crotch felt sore but her tight little skirt was crumpled up around her hips. She felt her nether regions and gasped, scrambling up to her feet. Her thong was gone! She wasn’t wearing it! And there were dried fluids around her vagina!

She lifted her fingers to her nose, hesitated and then sniffed gingerly, gaping in horror. She looked down at the filthy mattress, the crumpled sheets; then at the closed front door to the squalid little flat.

Someone must have— A man must have— While she was asleep! While she was drugged up!

Good God, what had she gotten herself into? She had to get out of there now! The thong was discarded on the dirty carpet. She pulled it back on, pushing her skirt down as far as it would go and ran to the door. She couldn’t stay in there one more minute!

She felt dirty and violated. Surely someone hadn’t really done that while she’d been sleeping! But she couldn’t wait around to find out!

She paused at the door, realizing what she looked like, unsure what to do about her wet clothes, but she was in a panic, not thinking straight. She just had to get out of that terrible place! And the part of her that was still reasoning justified her appearance, telling her it was safer in this district to look like a native. In her normal clothes she was bound to be mugged or something worse. This way she could blend in – walk out of the area then somehow call for help.

She couldn’t believe she’d actually taken heroin from that dirty needle!

But it had felt so good. It had felt wonderful and another part of her just wanted to stay and do it again. Though there wasn’t any more.

No. She had to get out of there. She opened the door. Then she spotted a cheap scuffed handbag she hadn’t seen when she came in and snatched it up. It must have been left by the owner. Maybe there was a phone in it!

She took it out with her, reluctant to spend another second in that seedy place, and made her way down to the ground floor. The rain had stopped at least now. She would be safe to find her way out on foot. She frowned at the stilettos she was wearing; then shook her head in irritation and kept walking. They’d have to do. She wasn’t going back up to that flat ever! She didn’t know what had come over her in there!

She rooted through the musty handbag looking for a phone but there wasn’t one. Typical! She went to throw the bag down but hesitated when she saw a purse inside. She cracked it open. There was a few pounds in cash. Not much but worth hanging on to for if she found a pay phone. In two minds what to do she slung the bag over her shoulder and walked along the flagstones toward the road.

Anna suddenly felt very odd and exposed. It had seemed such a natural decision to put on and come out in these clothes when she was up in the flat but she looked at herself now and realized just how different she looked to her normal image. He looked like a complete slag from her high heels, bare legs and short skirt to her bare arms and showy cleavage, her hair bunched up on top of her head.

And her cleavage! She felt her boobs with both hands. She was absolutely sure they were bigger than they had been – absolutely sure! Which was impossible!

This was the strangest night of her life but she couldn’t deal with that now. She had to get out of this awful suburb as fast as she could.

She walked several more paces, increasingly aware of the stilettos and how inappropriate they were for walking the miles it would take to get out of Barton. Though they did make her legs look wonderful. She admired them for a moment, turning them in the light, watching the gleam of reflected streetlight.

At the street side the woman Anna had seen earlier was standing there again. She looked round and sneered as Anna approached. It wasn’t clear whether it was because of her trashy disguise or because she saw right through it to the rich woman underneath.

Anna had decided that the best course of action would be to flag down a car and ask for a lift. She gave the other woman a little smile and walked further along the pavement so she had a bit of space to herself.

As she waited for a car to pass she eyed the other woman, realizing belatedly that she was probably a prostitute. Which made her realize that standing there, dressed in those clothes, passersby would likely think she was too!

That was funny but kind of horrible… but it was also kind of… dirty, in the same way as she’d felt inside. It was exciting to imagine actually being one for a minute, standing out there every night, desperately trying to drum up cash for her next heroin fix.

Thinking about the heroin gave Anna a sudden aching yearning in the pit of her stomach that startled her. She didn’t know how many hours it had been since she’d taken it – how much later it was now – how long she’d been asleep – but she realized how much she wanted some more.

That horrified her. She’d only tried it once – realized now how stupid that had been – but she felt like she needed it as much as if she had a full addiction; as if she’d been doing it for weeks or months.

She shook her head to clear the feeling but it remained, throbbing dully in the back of her mind. She shouldn’t have touched the stuff! She didn’t know why she had done!

A breeze ran up her legs and under her skirt, making her acutely aware again of her apparel. She pressed her face into her hands. What was happening to her? How had she come to this: standing on a street corner in these clothes? Desperate for another fix of heroin? Her crotch sore as though she’d been pummeled roughly down there by some client’s cock.

No… Wait… She felt so confused; so fuzzy; like her head was full of cotton wool.

Why did she think client? She wouldn’t…

She rubbed her forehead with her fingers. Why was it so hard to think suddenly?

A car pulled in to the curb in front of her and she shook her head again to clear it. The man inside wound down the window. He looked ugly and very very nervous. Feeling awkward herself dressed like that, Anna decided to take advantage of the situation and seize the initiative.

“I’m looking for a ride,” she said.

“How much do you charge?” stammered the man.

“What? No! What are you— God, no! Not that kind of— Urgh! Get out of here!”

The little man looked disappointed but drove on, pulling up beside the other woman who smirked back at Anna as though she’d got one up on her. Anna felt disgruntled and deeply offended, but she also felt bad that this prostitute felt superior – that she’d outdone her somehow. That made Anna feel… jealous somehow, which was a stupid thing to feel. She just had to get out of there.

This was a terrible place to get picked up. She was never going to get a man to fuck her here. And no fuck meant no fix later from Badger and she’d have to blow him again or worse.

She struck as sexy a pose as she could as another car came down the road but it didn’t stop. Anna sighed and started rooting through her bag looking for a fag.

“Woah, hold on a minute!” She lowered the bag.

What was that? Those thoughts? For a minute she’d felt like she was… She was looking for a cigarette and she didn’t smoke! And who was Badger? She didn’t know anyone called that but when she’d thought of him she’d felt… trepidation and… fear. And need. Desperate need.

It was like she was…

Anna covered her mouth with her hand.

It was like she was really what she’d laughed and joked about with the girls the other night when they’d been playing with the statuette.

A junkie whore.

V

Anna scrabbled through the handbag she’d taken from the derelict flat until she found a dog-eared feminine wallet and ripped it out, spilling half the contents.

She flipped it open and gaped at the picture on the ID.

Somehow, impossibly, it was her picture; but different. Wrong.

The face on the picture was heavily made up; tartily made up; and gaunt, with sunken eyes and a dull, listless expression. And the name was wrong.

It was her face but the name wasn’t Anne Spencer. It was Annie Young.

Annie Young. Young wasn’t her maiden name even. She’d never met anyone with the surname Young, let alone married him! What the fuck was going on here!?

She irritably pulled out a slim pack of fags and slipped one out of the pack in between her lips. She lit it with shaking hands, cupping the flame to keep it from blowing out then dropped the lighter back into the little pocket of the bag where she always stashed—

No.

“No. Wait a minute.” Anna staggered toward the toilet block. “This isn’t me. I’m not a whore. I’m not a junkie. My name isn’t Annie Young. Not no more. Joe Young fucking sacked me didn’t he, and all I did was shag his brother a few times. And it wasn’t as if I was charging!”

Wait. No. That wasn’t right.

Anna gripped the sides of her face. Something was happening to her brain. Something was happening to reality! None of this could be right. It couldn’t be real!

The drugs. It must all be a side effect of the heroin! That was all. She was hallucinating! Nothing more.

She leant against the brick wall of the toilet block, pulse pounding, trying to organize her thoughts. She wasn’t a prostitute, She didn’t live in Barton. She hadn’t sold all her shit to get more junk. She didn’t stand out there every night putting out for cash.

Did she?

She wasn’t sure. Nothing made sense to her. She looked down at her high heels and her bare legs sticking out of the short skirt. She gripped her now larger boobs. Everything about her said whore but that wasn’t who she was. That wasn’t who…

She was so glad she’d had her boobs enlarged though. She got much more cock nowadays. And more cock meant more cash. More cash meant more junk. That meant she was happy.

“Annie!”

She turned and saw a big man striding round the toilet block with two white streaks in his hair, his expression consumed with rage.

“Badger?”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing over here? How d’ya expect to get any fucking blokes to stop if they can’t even see you?”

“I’m sorry Badger. I wasn’t thinking.”

“No you fucking weren’t!” He slapped her hard round the back of the head, knocking her stumbling forwards and hurling the fag from her mouth. “You twat! I should have fucking left you at that college where I fucking found you! Maybe you’d have found yourself a rich fucking man to look after you! But I thought I’d take you away from all that, didn’t I? Show you some fucking fun in your life!”

He grabbed her by the scruff of her tank top, yanking her close. “And I did that, didn’t I, eh?”

“What?” Anne couldn’t focus her thoughts. She was so confused by everything that was happening and her veins were throbbing. She needed the junk so bad now.

“I gave you a good fucking life didn’t I?”

Anna thought of the squalid flat where she lived, the mattress on the floor, the graffiti and the mold. She thought of spreading her legs for money just so she could get her fix every night. “Yes Badger. Course.”

“Well where’s my fucking money then, eh? You got it you useless cow?” 

Money? She had money. She was rich, wasn’t she? But no. That wasn’t right, It couldn’t be right. She’d always imagined meeting some rich businessman who would have kept her in luxury but she’d dropped out of college and moved to Barton. Closest she’d ever come to a rich businessman had been the end of his cock.

“I said have you got my money you daft bint!?”

“No Badger. Sorry. I’m so sorry.”

He slapped her again, harder this time, sending her tumbling to the ground. She yelped in agony and floundered round on her hands and knees.

“You’re pathetic! You’re nothing! And you’re losing your looks! You’re nothing to me, do you know that!?”

“Yes,” said Annie, crawling toward Badger. “I’m so sorry. I just need another fix. Please.”

“You’re nothing and you’re pathetic and I don’t know why I waste my time with you!”

He was right. He was so right. She was just a worthless junkie whore.

She got closer and closer to him on her hands and knees. “Please,” she whimpered. “Just one fix to keep me going until I can get some money. Please.”

She reached his feet and worked up his legs, gently undoing his trouser button and zip. The pavement was cold and hard against her bare knees but it didn’t matter. Only getting the fix mattered. That was all.

“Get away from me you skank!” snapped Badger, kicking her in the shoulder and sending her sprawling onto the muddy grass. “I don’t know where you’re mouth’s been! It’s gotta be fucking loaded with disease by now, the number of men you’ve had.”

Tears were pouring down Annie’s cheeks as she tried to pick herself up, the yearning in her scratching at her soul, she was so desperate.

Badger was walking away and she was begging him to come back, begging him to let her blow him off in return for some junk – even a tiny bit! Anything!

But he was gone and she was alone again. And it was starting to rain.

Annie stood there at the side of the road, gaunt and staring, weeping at her predicament; wishing with all her heart that her life could have been different.

But it wasn’t. She was nothing but a junkie whore. She was never getting out of this life. She was never getting out of Barton. The sign had been right. There was no escape.

Then her face lit up with hope as headlights illuminated her cheeks. And she quickly swiped at her eyes to get rid of the tears.

She walked to the edge of the road as the car pulled up, trying to make herself look as sexy as possible but knowing that the years and her addiction had worn away at her prettiness.

It was a Lamborghini! So beautiful! The driver had to be rich! Annie had never seen one except on TV. It was gorgeous!

She imagined how great it would be to be married to someone who owned one of these – to drive round in it all the time. But that was totally out of her reach. She knew that.

The window whirred down electronically. The man inside was handsome as well as wealthy. He had a perfect smile and for a moment Annie was sure she knew him, but when he focused on her properly the smile dropped from his face and that recognition disappeared. She could never know someone like this.

“Er… hi,” said the man. “I was wondering if you could give me directions out of Barton. I’ve been driving round for hours trying to find the way out.”

Annie shrugged, sure she was missing some crucial fact here; sure that everything about this situation was somehow completely flawed. “Don’t you know?” she said, smiling. “Once you come to Barton, there ain’t no way out.”

He chuckled falsely, unsure if she was joking. Annie leant onto the open window, pushing her prestigious cleavage into his face.

“But that don’t mean to say you can’t enjoy yourself while you’re here.”