Page 189 of The Black Trilogy

At home, I ate to live rather than the other way around. On special occasions, I’d help Jackie in the kitchen while she cooked up a Caribbean feast concocted from her childhood memories, but those times were few and far between. And mostly I got relegated to the washing up.

“Well, you can thank Ruth for her help in the morning then,” he said.

He thought I’d still be around in the morning? “I won’t be here. I could write her a message if you like.”

“It’s too late for you to go home tonight.”

He waved at the clock above the sink, and I followed his gaze. Quarter past two.

“I don’t have a choice. I start work at five.”

“But you’ve just finished work. Surely there’s not much call for strippers at five in the morning?”

“Of course not. But I have another job, and that starts at five.”

“Can’t you call in sick?”

“No, Mr. Moneybags, I can’t call in sick. I’ve got to open up for customers at six, and I’ll be the only one there. It’ll be hard enough trying to explain the bruises, and I’m already gonna have to take time off from the club. I can hardly dance looking like I’ve been in a car crash, can I?”

“If you have to go back, I’ll get Tony to drop you off for five. What time do you finish tomorrow?”

“One thirty. Why?”

“I’ll pick you up at one thirty, then.”

And take me where? “No, you won’t. At one thirty I’m going to bed. I’ve already lost two hours sleep tonight, and I don’t get enough as it is.”

“Fine, get some sleep, and I’ll pick you up later. If you can’t work in the club, you’ll be free in the evening.”

“Nice try. I need to study when I’m not working. And what makes you think I want to see you again, anyway?”

“Money seems to talk with you, and I have a proposition. If it makes a difference, I’ll pay you for your time this evening.”

“I’m not a prostitute.” I stared daggers at him. “I’ll have you know I’ve never, ever slept with a man for money.”

He chuckled. “If looks could kill…”

I put my hands on my hips and glared harder.

“Calm down, Diamond. It’s not that kind of proposition. I’m talking about a business arrangement. I’ve already told you I don’t go for the schoolgirl look.”

“Well, now I know you’re talking rubbish. I don’t have any qualifications at all, and you’ve known me for less than a day. No way could you have a bona fide business opportunity to offer.”

“Humour me. I’ll pick you up at six. Does that give you enough time?”

“I guess.” Anything to shut him up.

“Good. Now eat some food.”

Part of me wanted to refuse on principle, but as my stomach grumbled, I gave in. The macaroni and cheese did look good. I added new potatoes and a bowl of vegetables and heated everything up in the microwave as per Ruth’s step-by-step directions. If nothing else, at least I’d get a proper meal out of the visit.

And wow, Ruth could cook! The pasta had just the right amount of grease, and once I’d added a knob of butter, the vegetables weren’t bad either. I felt an irrational jealousy at this man for having so much good food available. My shelf in the fridge was filled with whatever was on special offer or, if I timed it right, in the reduced section at the end of the day.

Black chose a healthier option, a salad with chicken breasts, and I made a show of chewing so I wouldn’t have to talk to him. After we’d put our plates in the dishwasher, another luxury I didn’t have, he showed me up to a spare bedroom.

“Get a couple of hours’ sleep. I’ll wake you up in time to get to work.”

“Will you?”

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