That night I went to Marie’s house with myself on offer. But the exchange we were about to make was not a simple one. I would eat her food and drink her wine and then I would let her seduce me. It sounded easy enough, when I deducted the emotion. I focussed on the name Madison Porter-Hawkins. I repeated it as a mantra and it sounded good and promising in my head. She was the one I wanted to work for. I knew Marie would come through if I did what was asked of me. Twenty-four hours later I could have it all. Theoretically, I had done it before but it had never been as blatantly obvious. A certain subtlety goes a long way in complex matters of the flesh. And some gentle coaxing and a sudden look of understanding can make a big difference. To set up a trade like Marie had done required a lot of guts, cunning and foolish desire. She knew I wouldn’t say no immediately because of our history together. She had listened carefully when I had told her about my hopes and aspirations for the future. She had gotten rid of Christine for the occasion and had probably manipulated her into some sort of agreement. She knew what she was doing.

I, on the other hand, was clueless. I got off the tube and walked through the streets of Chelsea. I was listening to Morrissey’s “Dear God Please Help Me” on repeat. It was a Thursday evening in early spring. The dusky air was filled with promises of a hot and tender summer. The closer I got to my destination the weaker the echo of Madison Porter-Hawkins’s name rang in my head. I finally let the torrent of questions I’d been holding back flood my brain. What the hell was I doing? Would I really go that far? Wasn’t it time to grow a conscience? Was I really a person of such loose morals? I had had an affair with a married woman. I had slept with a prostitute. I had let myself be cheated on under the guise of an open relationship I never wanted. I had abused the rules of said relationship to suit my own needs. I had willingly exchanged sexual favours for a luxurious roof over my head. I had slapped my ex-girlfriend in the face. Was I really willing to take it one step further by getting into bed with a woman who offered me a shot at my dream job?

I wasn’t. I walked past Marie’s house to the end of her street. When I turned the corner without looking back I quietly told myself that integrity was more important than this job right now and I believed it. I would find another job. Then I made my way to Anna’s house, which was in the same neighbourhood. She was a therapist and I thought I could use some help. I rang the bell and Nathalie answered. Seeing her was all I needed to break down. She had been my first. My first teenage crush at fifteen, my first real love at twenty-two and my first taste of heartbreak a couple of months later. I looked at her and the weight of all my mistakes came crashing down on me. To fall apart in Nathalie’s arms was about as ironic as it could get but somehow it felt right. When it mattered she was there. She had to be.

To be continued…