Ch. 3 - Pt. 2 - Shannon & Nathaniel
Shannon ~ 1879 ~ London, England
I told him that my name was Shannon. It seemed like a nice name at the time and I wasn’t inclined to share my real name with a stranger.
It was raining that night and I was huddled in a doorway, shivering cold without a coat. He was just leaving the pub on the corner when I first noticed him; an older gentleman, maybe around fifty, with greyish hair, wearing a grey overcoat.
“Goodnight Nathaniel, see you tomorrow!” another man called to him.
Nathaniel waved and then staggered down the street towards me. When he saw me he literally stopped in his tracks. The way he just stared at me; it was like had seen a ghost. So much so that I searched my memory trying to think if we had met somewhere before, but I didn’t think so.
He told me later that what he noticed first about me was my bright red hair, worn loose around my shoulders.
“Spare some change, Sir,” I said, holding out my tin cup.
“What?” he asked, still staring at me.
“Some change,” I repeated, “I haven’t eaten all day.”
“Alison?” he asked.
I shook my head ‘no’; clearly he had mistaken me for someone else.
He came closer and ran a hand through my hair. I had an idea where this was going. He cupped my face in his hand and lifted my chin so that we were looking into one another’s eyes.
“Your eyes are blue,” he said, surprised.
“Last time I looked,” I replied.
“Otherwise you are the spitting image,” he shook his head in amazement, “Aren’t you cold?”
I nodded.
“Would you like to spend the night somewhere warm?” he asked.
I wasn’t naïve enough to think he was offering out of the goodness of his heart. I’d had these offers before, so I wasn’t surprised when he pulled out his wallet and said, “I have money. I’ll pay you of course.”
Normally I would’ve told him to go to hell, but something was different that night. Maybe it was how bitterly cold it was, or that I hadn’t eaten in so long, or that he actually seemed like a decent man; but as he began to count out more bills than I had seen all month I found myself considering, and accepting his offer.
“What is your name?” he asked, as we walked back to his hotel.
“Shannon,” I answered, liking the way the name rolled off my tongue.
“You remind me of a girl I loved long ago,” the man told me, “She was about your age when she died; she was twenty-two.”
So just like that I became Shannon Kelly, twenty-two year old prostitute. Not that it mattered much; he kept calling me Alison anyway.
I was a bit nervous when we got back to his room. It was comforting to notice that Nathaniel didn’t seem to have any better idea what to do next than I did. He offered me some brandy, which I drank and almost choked on as it burned my throat.
He noticed me staring longingly at a left over dinner roll on the tray by his bed and told me to go ahead and eat it; which I did gratefully. He must’ve felt guilty seeing how hungry I was, because he searched the room and came back with a fruit basket. He offered me the apple and two oranges - I ate them all.
After that, there was another awkward silence. I looked over at the bed and he nodded. I had already accepted his money so I knew that I had to do this. I took all of my clothes off, feeling extremely self-conscious as he just stood there watching me.
When I was completely naked, I turned, intending to lay down on the bed; but Nathaniel suddenly took me in his arms and kissed me. I felt frightened and began to shake. But then he just held me close, petting my hair and telling me how beautiful I [well…Alison] was.
When he had undressed also, and laid me down on the bed, I began to worry about what exactly I was supposed to do. I had never had sex with someone for money before; in fact I had never had sex at all. I was worried about angering him, since he had paid me so much money for this. But Nathaniel didn’t seem to mind when he found out that I was a virgin; actually he seemed to like that. I stopped correcting him when he called me Alison for the forth time.
In the morning he had me hide in the bathroom when the breakfast tray came. But then he let me eat the entire thing by myself. He said not to worry about it, that he would eat later. He asked if he could get me a cab home; which made me laugh, because obviously I didn’t have a home. When he realized this, his eyes lit up as though a brilliant idea had suddenly occurred to him.
“You know I am in London all week,” he said, “You could just stay here with me. I mean I would keep paying you of course.”
I agreed. He told me he had a lecture at the University but would be back later that afternoon.
When he returned he had a gift for me; which he presented gleefully. I carefully opened the box, and pulled out a pair of white silk stockings and a beautiful white nightgown. They looked more like something a bride would wear on her honeymoon than what I imagined a prostitute would wear. But he was the one paying me - it was his game. I could tell he wanted me to try them on so I did. The stockings felt smooth and luxurious against my legs, the nightgown was so fancy I began to feel like I was one of those ritzy ladies I would see sometimes; the kind that wouldn’t even notice me, let alone give me any money. I walked around the room for him and he seemed so happy.
“Thank you,” I said and kissed him on the lips.
He picked me up and carried me to the bed. I imagined myself to be this bride that he wanted me to be. I began to think ‘what would Alison do next?’ or ‘what would Alison say?’ Even though I actually had no idea who she was or what she would do or say. It was fun and it made having sex with him easier - not having to be me.
The next day there were other gifts; chocolates and roses and a beautiful forest green dress with a high, buttoned collar. He said that he was taking me to dinner in the restaurant downstairs and realized that I would need something appropriate to wear.
Wearing the dress, and walking on Nathaniel’s arm to our table, I felt like I truly was this woman Alison. We actually ate steak and potatoes and drank red wine. If this was what it was like to be a lady in society I was enjoying it very much.
Unfortunately it didn’t take long for my illusion to fade. I noticed that a man dinning alone at a nearby table was watching me intently. He smiled at me several times. There was something slick and false about him that I instantly didn’t like. His black hair was slicked back and he had a fancy mustache.
While we were waiting for dessert, I excused myself and went looking for the powder room. The slick-haired man caught me by the coat-room. He pressed me against the wall and whispered in my ear that he would like to pay me for my company that night.
I carefully slipped away from him and informed him that I was taken.
“Perhaps tomorrow then,” he said.
“I am taken all week,” I told him.
He just nodded and smiled as though the issue was not settled and it was only a matter of time before I agreed.
I was not considering his offer at all though. I was very happy with Nathaniel and didn’t want to do this with anyone else. When we returned to our room after dinner I noticed that the slick man was in the room right next to ours.
Nathaniel didn’t always confuse me with Alison. Unfortunately, there were some ways I could never measure up to her. For example, when he would start talking about all those Greek blokes to me as if I was supposed to have any clue what he meant. ‘Aristotle said this’ or ‘Sophocles said that’. The only part of it that stuck with me was when he told the story of Plato’s Split-aparts.
We were lying in bed that night - me wearing the white stockings and nothing else. He told me that he was a professor at Oxford.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “I keep forgetting you are not her. Alison and I would talk about these things - she was so intelligent, she could’ve been a university student herself - if they had allowed female students, of course.”
I laughed, “I left school when I was thirteen, so I’ve never read any of that stuff.”
As crazy as it seemed given our age difference, I began to feel that Nathaniel and I were falling in love. The way he would kiss me and stroke my hair made me feel special. I even looked forward to having sex with him. I would walk around the room all day wearing the stockings and nightgown and anticipating his return.
On the fifth day, when he returned late from visiting the home of a fellow professor, I could tell that something was different. He seemed distracted and nervous and he was not at all interested in making love to me, even though I was standing naked before him. I wondered what I had done wrong. How had I failed to please him? I began to cry.
He finally told me that he had met a woman, the daughter of this professor. That he was quite taken with her and feeling guilty about what he and I were doing; how could he think of asking this woman to dinner and then come back here and have sex with me - it wasn’t right.
My feelings were very hurt but I could see that by crying I was making him feel even more uncomfortable. So I agreed when he suggested, as a way of making amends, I assume, that we go to dinner in the restaurant downstairs again.
As we waited for a table, I noticed our neighbor; the slick man, as I thought of him, having a drink at the bar. He noticed me and raised his glass, smiling at me.
“Do you know that man?” Nathaniel asked, jealous, I hoped.
“He is in the room next to ours,” I said, coyly, “Surely you must’ve seen him in passing. But then I am here so much more than you are - being left alone all day.”
Nathaniel looked clearly uneasy as the possibilities of what I was implying surely ran through this head.
“I should go and say ‘hi’,” I smiled, “I don’t want to seem rude.”
I tried to walk seductively as I made my way over to the bar and greeted the slick man with a kiss on his cheek and glanced quickly back to make sure that Nathaniel was seeing this. The man put his hand on my rear end and pulled me closer to him. I felt Nathaniel grab my arm and pull me away from the man.
“Come on, Shannon,” he said, coldly “Our table is ready.”
So it was Shannon now. No more Alison, I noticed.
Dinner was very awkward and he didn’t say much. When we got back to our room the slick man winked at me in the hallway; which I’m sure Nathaniel didn’t fail to notice. When we were alone, Nathaniel and I didn’t speak, but we did have sex. It wasn’t the same at all. I could tell that he was angry at me; that he was just doing this to prove that I belonged to him. Afterwards he didn’t hold me or even look at me. It made me feel like a prostitute. Then I remembered that I was one now.
“This is not a life for you Shannon,” he said, finally, “You should think about getting a real job - maybe in one of those factories?”
“I doubt they would pay me this good,” I said.
“Not everyone will treat you this well,” he told me, “Do you have any family?”
“I grew up in an orphanage,” I explained, “One of those schools for naughty children.”
“How long have been on the streets?”
“Since they threw me out last year,” I said, “Accused me of stealing - which I never did.”
Nathaniel suddenly sat up in bed; his face looking shocked and worried in the dim light that shone through our window from the street lamp outside. He studied me closely.
“I thought that you told me you left school when you were thirteen,” he said, carefully.
I looked away from him.
“How old are you Shannon?” he asked, his voice suddenly stern.
“However old you want me to be,” I said, quietly.
“This is not a joke, Shannon,” he insisted, “I want the truth. How old are you?”
“Fourteen,” I told him.
Nathaniel jumped out of bed, looking almost frightened.
“It doesn’t matter,” I assured him.
“How can it not matter?” he asked, “You are a child, Shannon.”
That hurt my feelings. After everything we had done together how could he call me a child? I reached out for his arm, and he jerked away from my touch as though I made him sick. Quickly, he pulled on his pants and threw my dress at me.
“Get dressed,” he told me, “You need to leave.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, not understanding how he could treat me this way.
“You have to go,” he said, looking out the window.
He couldn’t even stand to look at me now; as though my nakedness frightened him. I felt ashamed as I put on my clothes. I was trying not to cry. I gathered up my things; the green gown, the white stockings, the nightgown, and of course all of my money. He didn’t even say goodbye to me as I opened the door. And I said it to him three times. When it became clear that he wasn’t going to speak to me, I closed the door and stood in the hallway crying.
A porter passing by looked at me oddly. I wiped my eyes and calmed myself. I was not going to go away that easily. I loved Nathaniel. I would teach him a lesson. I walked up to the door next to ours and knocked on it.
The slick man opened it with a smile, as though he had been expecting me. He invited me in and named a price. No time was wasted on pleasantries. I undressed and we had sex. There was nothing tender or romantic about it at all. The slick man didn’t kiss me once. In fact he was rather rough, the way he held me so that I couldn’t move. It felt strange and I didn’t particularly like it but I was sure to cry out loudly as though I did; hoping that Nathaniel would hear me in the next room and be jealous; hoping that he would regret having thrown me away like I was nothing.
When he was done with me, the slick man got up and went to have a drink. He didn’t say anything to me at all or even look at me. Not sure what else to do, I began to put my clothes back on. The sooner I got out there the better.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, “I’m not done with you.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I thought…”
“Don’t think,” he said, cruelly, “I am paying you for your body, not your mind.”
He put down his drink and walked over to me. I was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing only the white stockings. The slick man stood naked between me and the door. He was so close to me - I couldn’t help but look right at his private parts.
“Put it in your mouth,” he said.
“What?” I asked, shocked.
“You know what I want,” he said, “Just do it.”
When I didn’t move, he grabbed me by the hair and tried to push my face into his crotch. I panicked and tried to pull away from him.
“I’ve never done that!” I cried, “I can’t do this!”
His fist struck my face, knocking me backwards onto the bed. It hurt so much. I couldn’t believe that he had just hit me.
He was on top of me, holding me down.
“You don’t say ‘can’t’ to me,” he hissed, “When I am the one paying you; you shut up and do what you are told. Understand?”
I nodded, because I was scared and didn’t know what else to do. When he let go of me I jumped up and picked up my dress.
“Can I just have my money please,” I asked, beginning to cry, “I’m sorry, I just want to go now.”
“You think I am going to give you money?” he yelled, grabbing me by the shoulders.
“I….we had sex,” I said, “Now I want to go.”
“You don’t seem to understand how this works,” he said, “You get paid when I am finished with you - AFTER you have done everything I say.”
I looked back towards the door - thinking of just leaving without the money even though it didn’t seem fair. He must’ve known what I was thinking, because he hit me in the face again and then threw me across the room. I slammed into the wet bar and fell to the floor. A heavy crystal decanter fell onto my head and my vision began to blur.
The man was on top of me - having sex with me again; this time with his hand on my throat so that I could hardly breathe. At some point I lost consciousness.
When I woke up, my whole body was in pain. The man yanked me up and dragged me to the door.
“What about my money?” I asked.
“Get lost,” the slick man said, pushing me out into the hallway and slamming the door.
I was wearing nothing at all but the stockings which were ripped now. I saw the same porter looking at me and felt mortified. I realized that I was still holding my dress, bunched up in my fist and put it over my head.
Then I realized that all of my things were still in the room; all of my money from the week with Nathaniel - Everything.
No! I thought, it can’t all be for nothing!
I began pounding on the door and crying hysterically.
“Please let me in!” I screamed, “I need my money! It’s all I have! Please!”
The porter quickly moved to my side and pulled me away from the door.
“Let me in, please,” I begged him, “I left my things in there, my money - all my money!”
“You are not a guest here. You need to leave this building immediately,” he said, dragging me down the hallway by my arm. He didn’t let go of me until we were outside.
“This is a decent hotel,” he said, “I don’t want to see you back here.”
I just stood there on the sidewalk, shivering in the cold night air as he slammed the door.
It was all for nothing, I thought, for nothing.
Nathaniel
The next evening as he stepped out of the hotel with Elizabeth after a lovely dinner, Nathaniel noticed the girl was still waiting across the street. He thought briefly of making an excuse and ducking back inside, but he didn’t want to do anything that would seem odd. Shannon spotted him and came running over before he could think of what to do.
“Can you spare some change?” she asked, “All of my money was stolen.”
Nathaniel could feel himself sweating. All he could think of was how to get Elizabeth away from Shannon as quickly as possible before the girl said something that might give away their relationship.
“I haven’t eaten,” Shannon said, “I have nothing.”
Elizabeth began to look through her purse for change.
“What are you doing?” Nathaniel whispered, taking her by the arm and pulling her aside.
“Something has to be done about all of the poor orphans in this city,” Elizabeth said, “The least we can do is give the girl some money for food.”
“You can’t help people like that,” he explained, “If you give her money she will just keep coming back for more. It is honorable that you want to help, Elizabeth, but these people lie. You can’t believe a word that comes out of their mouths.”
He quickly escorted her to a cab before Shannon had a chance to say another word.
After Elizabeth was safely away he turned back to the girl.
“You can’t keep waiting around here, bothering me,” he said, angrily.
“I am not nothing!” she cried, “You can’t just throw me away like I am garbage!”
“It was a mistake, Shannon,” he said, “It never should’ve happened. It wouldn’t have happened if you had been honest with me about your age.”
“But I loved you,” she said, her lip quivering as if she were going to cry.
“You are a prostitute,” Nathaniel sighed, “It was never about love.”
“Honest, I did lose all my money,” she sobbed, “That man hurt me. He took all of my money.”
“I am not responsible for you, Shannon,” Nathaniel turned to leave.
“I have nothing,” she begged, “Please; we can go back to your room and do that again. I don’t want the money for free.”
“We can’t do that again, Shannon,” he turned back to face her, “You are a child.”
“Then adopt me.”
“What?” he couldn’t help but laugh at the absurd idea.
“If you think I am a child. You and that fancy lady you were having dinner with can adopt me," she proposed.
“That is not possible.”
“Why not?” she pouted.
Nathaniel grabbed her by the shoulders and put his mouth close to her ear.
“Because people do not go around adopting fourteen year old prostitutes after they have sex with them,” he whispered, exasperated.
He realized that the only way to get this girl to leave him alone was to give her money. He pulled out a few bills and placed them in her hand, “This is all you are getting from me. Now please just go away and leave me alone.”
She didn’t speak a word; just looked at him with sad eyes as one tear rolled down her bruised cheek. Why hadn't he noticed her face before? So someone really had hurt her. But how was that his problem? What did she expect from him? He didn’t owe this girl anything. It was not his fault that this was her life. His guilt and her pain-filled eyes were beginning to wear him down. Despite everything he felt the urge to just take her in his arms and kiss her. She did look so much like Alison...
Before he could reach out to her; Shannon turned and took off running down the street.
[copyright Bridget Eden 2010]