chapter 4

Saoirse felt the world spinning, the bartender kept taking away the glasses, so She didn't know how many the two of them even had. "Look it's one, we need to go."

Rachel pointed at the bar; it was closed. "No just one more, ok?"

The bar staff turned the main lights on, and Saoirse got dizzy. "No, they want us to leave." She grabbed Rachel's arm and dragged her out."

"I need food, where do we go for food?" Rachel asked.

It was raining outside and had gotten much colder. The kebab shop under Desire was probably the only place open right now. "We're going for chips."

Saoirse had her arm wrapped around Rachel's waist and the two balanced off each other as they went through the back street towards the club.

Jack was out the front smoking and talking with the usual bouncer. He heard the girls coming down the street. "Well look at the state of ye. What do you want?"

"Coming for burger, not to see you." She slurred.

"They're just about to shut, so hurry up."

"They can't shut, we just got here."

"They are. Get your chips and get out of the rain, you're not missing Friday night shift because you've got the flu."

Saoirse slinked off into the fast-food place, with Rachel and Jack went back to talking to the bouncer. The two girls slumped over the counter and tried to read the menu. "I need chips and something else." She pointed up at the menu.

Rachel spoke "Chips and cheese pie and cheeseburger."

"Yeah, I'll have that too. Chips with chips, a cheese pie and cheeseburger." Saoirse said.

"And a bottle of coke."

"Yeah, another bottle of coke."

Saoirse scanned her card paying €25 euros for the two of them, the chef, who was trying to avoid talking to drunks silently threw the two burgers into the grill and dumped some cheese pies into the oil.

Five minutes later the chef brought out a brown bag full of greasy food and pointed them to the door. The bouncer had gone home, and Jack was standing under the awning to stay dry.

"For fuck's sake girls you're both in a state." He said, accusatory.

"It's a night out, you can't talk to me like that." Saoirse replied.

"No, there's no taxis now, here get in the club and sleep it off on the couch. I'll lock you in and I'll be back at 9 to do the deliveries to let you out. Bar is locked so don't try to steal anything."

Saoirse tried to argue. "Shut your face. I can get home"

"Seriously, you can't be out in this state, at this time, in this weather, go upstairs, I'll drive you both home after I've stocked." He unlocked the door; Rachel walked in and fell on the steps.

"Are you not going to help her up?" Saoirse said, waving the takeaway bag at him.

"In, go." He pushed Saoirse into the stairwell and locked the door behind. "Just get some sleep" he shouted through the door and walked off.

Rachel looked ready to sleep, lying on the stairs. Saoirse poked her with her foot. "Come on, up, we'll have some food."

Rachel grumbled, pulled herself up by the balustrade and climbed the stairs, slowly, leaning against the wall.

At the top, Saoirse took Rachel's hand and walked her across the dark dance floor and into the tiny staff room with the battered sofas. She turned on the lights, the two slumped down on the sofa and under the fluorescent light, they both woke up a bit and realised how cold and wet they were.

"Let me get the heater on." Saoirse looked through the bottom of the wardrobe and pulled out a plastic electric fan heater, plugged it in and pointed it at the two of them. She pulled over two plastic chairs to use as a table and opened the fast-food bag.

"Are we really spending the night in the club?" Rachel asked, look a bit pale.

"Ya, I guess it's better than trying to get home at this time." She picked up a chip. "Did I ask for two bags of chips?"

"Probably." The two edged closer to the heater and listened to the rain hit the window, it was a total downpour.

"Ah fuck! I have work at 9. Isn't that when Jack said he'd let us out."

"Text your boss in the morning, no way you're going to be working tomorrow anyway. He can cover you. look I'll set an alarm." Saoirse took out her phone which opened on her messages.

"What the fuck?" Rachel pointed at the last message Saoirse sent of picture of her belly.

Saoirse quickly closed the text app. "That was... I don't know."

"Yeah, you do. I respect the hustle, girl, but you shouldn't lead on your clients outside of work."

Saoirse blushed. "Look, shut up, it seemed like a good idea at the time."

"If you're trying to do some Pretty Woman scheme with this guy just because he's rich, then forget it, he'll be back in England without ya in a month's time and you'll be stuck here with a fat arse and saggy tits scaring off your regulars." Rachel laughed.

"Just leave it, was an accident, I wanted to check if he's going to come back, I need to prepare a bit more if he does."

"An accident? Look, it's your life and I don't judge. Did he reply?"

Saoirse opened the message, trying to hide the picture from Rachel. "Um. He just said I look great and asked when I'm back at work." She paused. "I did say to him that I would let him know when I was on."

"Jack did say you should be in tomorrow night. Least you won't have to hide that food baby if he shows up early. Look just tell him you'll wait for him in the VIP room at nine." She picked up her burger and took a bite. "Tell him to bring his own melon this time."

Saoirse smirked. "And to stop at the ATM first." She wrote back. '2100 VIP room tomorrow x'. She picked up her greasy cheese pie and stuffed half of it in her mouth.

"Girl, do what you want. I suppose it's nice to have a day where you don't talk about yoga."

The two crammed the chips and burgers into their mouths. The greasy food and the drying clothes started making the air humid and sticky.

Rachel interrupted the food. “You don’t have spare clothes here? I am not falling asleep in a wet shirt; I’ll catch a cold as well.”

Saoirse remembered the horrible, abandoned tights. “Well, maybe, but don’t expect anything comfortable. Or clean.”

“Anything is better than damp.”

“Fine, look through the bottom of the wardrobe, anything abandoned, Jack stashes there

Rachel put down the rest of her cheese pie and opened the wardrobe and bent over. She pulled out tiny bras and underwear. “Seriously? Jack keeps these?”

“Better he leaves them here than takes them home.”

“I don’t want to think about that.” She pulled the whole pile of abandoned clothes from the wardrobe and onto the floor, pawing through them.

“Look, some pink sweatpants, are there anymore?” Saoirse pointed to the edge of the pile.

Rachel stood up and held them against her waist, she was a couple of wider than them. “Seriously?”

“What do you want me to do about that? You’ve seen the girls who’ve worked here.”

Rachel glared and pulled out a tiny black, fitted t shirt. “They’ll have to do, don’t watch.”

Saoirse turned away and listened to Rachel undress and drop her wet clothes on the floor with a soggy splat. The next noises were hopping, grunting, and swearing. Saoirse sighed. “Come on, I need to get changed too.”

“Quiet, I’m nearly there.” It sounded like Rachel was hopping on the spot. “Urgh, don’t say anything.”

Saoirse turned around; Rachel stood there looking uncomfortable. The t shirt cut into her arms, pressed her chest down and covered only the top part of her tummy and looked stretched. Her tummy itself was fully out, it was the slightest double belly, folding into rolls just above her deep, horizontal navel and was muffin topping over the tight waistband, which was squeezing into her hips and butt and was not going to be pulled up any higher. Her skin was soft, smooth, and free from stretch marks. “I changed my mind; I am not going to be a dancer here.” She lifted her muffin top up and dropped it down with a jiggle. “Not sexy.”

Saoirse laughed. “Shame, we’re in the right place if you want to learn. Pole is good exercise, but we don’t use it, never busy enough to put on a full show.”

“Girl, I’ll break the pole.”

“Oh no way. I’ve seen Jack on it, after He’s had a few drinks and he’s heavier than you. Go on, you’ll not get another chance to play on it.”

Rachel shrugged, sat down on the tattered sofa, and went back to eating her chips.

Saoirse ignored her and looked through the same pile of clothes. They were all horrible, no wonder the previous girls left them here, just worn-out dancing outfits and left-over gym or maybe yoga shorts and tops. She dug through and picked out some weird turquoise coloured thigh length leggings and a baggy, ripped crop top. Hopefully her normal clothes would dry by the heater before she had to go back out in public.

She checked to make sure Rachel wasn’t paying attention and slid down her damp, itchy skirt. The cool air in the room felt fresh against her clammy skin. With the skirt off, her shirt looked slightly strained at the bottom, her stomach was pushing against the fabric. Nervously, she ran her hand along the bump. The extra drinks and food she had settled inside her, but she did not feel as uncomfortably full as she looked, from her point of view. Maybe the alcohol had relaxed her. She flicked the bottom button open, and the shirt fabric easily slid apart. She continued flicking open the buttons and relaxed herself, she glanced in the window and saw a ghost of her reflected, standing in her underwear. Her tummy was now sticking out nearly as far as her breasts, she ran her hands down it, it felt solid, hard, and still toned, it was just protruding.

She dressed herself in the lycra and crop top, no hiding the belly tonight. She sighed a little and coughed so Rachel knew she could look around.

Rachel looked straight at her belly and smirked. “I’m saying nothing.”

Saoirse scowled. “Ignore that, Come, I’ll show you some pole moves.” She grabbed Rachel’s hand and pulled her through the door into the dance floor. She hopped up onto the stage and helped pull Rachel up on the stage, reached for a hidden cloth and wiped the pole.

“Okay, so now what?” Rachel asked.

Saoirse backed into the pole, grabbed it from behind and swung herself, lifting herself off the ground, gripping the pole with her thighs, she swung around effortlessly, landing a dismount, strut around the pole, sliding her hands higher up, she gripped, swung her legs above her head and swung around upside down before landing. She winked at Rachel. “Okay, copy that.”

“Don’t start with showing off, I can’t get up there.”




"Okay okay, start with the basics." she clutched the pole in her right arm, leaned out and made four strides around the pole and let go. "Just let yourself slide around the pole, should take four steps."

Rachel took over and rubbed her hands along the pole, feeling the texture. She linked her arm around it and copied Saoirse as best as she could.

Saoirse taught a few basic ways to hold the pole and a few simple spins and slides. Rachel copied along awkwardly, but after maybe too much drink, she was not picking it up. She slid down the pole onto her bum and leaned against it, slightly out of breath.

"Honestly, I did not realize it would be this hard. When did you find the time to learn this?"

Saoirse rolled her eyes. "Years ago, starting back in college."

"I wish I learned something like this, must make you feel good."

Saoirse shrugged. "It's just a job now, plus we really don't get chance to show off. I don't know, you’d get bored of it."

"Don't tell me it's worse than the hotel?"

"Nah, but at least You can tell your parents where you work, I can't put this on LinkedIn." She looked around the place. "Was only supposed to do this for a few months, cash in hand after the layoff. Now four years later it's just normal to me."

"Getting a bit down now?"

"Sorry. Maybe I should move to Galway or Cork, make more money doing this."

"Your call, girl, I'd join ya. It's a gamble though and the rent is huge down the city."

Saoirse shrugged and stroked her tummy. "Maybe time to sleep."

The two returned to the staff room, took a couch each and went to sleep.

//

Christian woke up to a knock at the door. He panicked, not expecting room service. He looked at the watch he was still wearing. Just passed nine. "Just one second." He shouted at the door.

He grabbed his shirt and trousers, rapidly doing them up and peering through the view finder, it was the cleaning staff. He scowled, they weren't supposed to come in. "No room service, please."

"Room needs cleaning." The man from the other side said.

"No, no it doesn't. I told the woman on reception that nobody is to come in. I made it very clear, thank you."

"She’s not in. It says here this room hasn't been cleaned in a week. Its policy to change the sheets."

Christian slowly banged his head on the door. "Please, I'm trying to write. Nobody is to come into this room under any circumstances. Who is on reception today?"

"Manager. He sent me up here."

"At nine o clock in the morning? with a guest in the room? oh for god's sake, I'll throw the sheets through the door, bring them back to me later, cleaned and changed."

"Look, manager thinks you've snuck someone in and paying for one person, heard you talking to someone, says you've called your own room a few times. He'll come back later to check if I don't report back."

"No. No. I was on the telephone. I must have left speaker phone on. There is nobody else here. In fact, I have artifacts in here of historical significance and if you would need to sign a non-disclosure agreement if you were to come in. Please. Clean another room." He retreated, grabbed up the towels and sheets, opened the door a crack and shoved them out.

The cleaner peered through the momentary crack trying to see anything, but the door was slammed in his face.

"Fine, €100 says you looked in the room, didn't see or hear anything weird. Then leave the clean sheets and towels outside the room and don't come back." He paused. "If you please."

The cleaner coughed. "Certainly, I will pass on the results of your own inspection, just slide the paperwork under the door."

Christian skipped into his bedroom and took out his wallet, took out two €50 notes and slid them under the front door. This was ridiculous, where was the usual receptionist? she never seemed to care.

When the footsteps died down, he spoke to the room. "We're being investigated by the hotel jobsworth. I'll stay in as much as I can, but if I do go out, assume any presence in here is not me. Don't speak, don't make an appearance, hide in the smallest, most discreet place you can and act more invisible than normal."

The room was silent.

"If it's me, I'll say Tir na Nog three times, ok?"

"I understand."

"Last thing you want is the hotel calling for an exorcism. I bet half of this town has the priest at the top of their contacts."

"That won't work."

"I know that, but they don't. Just super quiet, please, for both our sakes."

Christian went back to lie on bed. He turned the television on and picked up his phone. A message from X telling him to be at the VIP room at nine. Hopefully he could avoid room inspection and go.

He lay on the bed and stared at the television.