Page 116 of The Naughty List

“Alright,” she replies. “We’ll let you off one more secret, just this time.”

“Well done, Ella,” Dad says. “We’re really proud of you.”

“Thanks. So am I,” I say, and I mean it. I am. I’m very, very proud of myself indeed.

There are another round of tears as we say goodbye, and I’m still sobbing my happy little heart out at thecall endedscreen when I notice a notification flag up in the agency app window.

Hmm, I should get to bed… but I’ll just take a look. Just to see.

User 5639. Male. 47.

Help me, please. I’ve got a Christmas party with people at work today, and nobody to take with me. I’ve got nobody here, in London. No friends, no family, no anything, and I can’t face turning up there alone.

I’ve got practically no money, and I’m sorry about that. I really am.

I just need some help if you can give it to me. Just a little bit of time to help me out. Nothing more than a few hours at a party. Call it charity. Please.

Proposal price – £30.

Duration – 3 hours.

I have to read it through three times over.

It hits me in the guts, his pain in just a few words – almost pure desperation. I’ve felt like that myself, all alone here in London. No friends, no family, no anything, having to force myself out to face the people at work every day. Let alone at a social. I also know how it feels to have no money. I know that sense of doom very, very well.

But it’s this afternoon. I’ll be exhausted.

Crazily, the green icon is next to Eb’s chat profile.

Are you there?I type.

Yeah. Ryan’s up already, rushing around the place, excited. He thinks he saw Rudolph outside the window last night.

I’ve seen plenty of pictures of her kids. Ryan’s her five-year-old. He must be going crazy over Santa Claus. Cute little guy.

I’ve got a proposal in,I tell her. For later on this afternoon.

This afternoon? Are you crazy? You haven’t even been to bed yet. I hope it’s worth mega bucks.

I can only imagine the surprise on her face when I send it over to her.

£30????she says.The agency have seriously goofed up there. He must be a new user. They check them out thoroughly, though. They never take on anyone who’s skint. I can’t believe it. You should get right onto them.

I look at the threads. Yeah, 5639 is a new user. There is no mention of him anywhere in the forum.

He sounds desperate, I say.

Yeah, but £30?? That’s less than minimum wage for 3 hours. After the agency take their fees you’ll barely even cover your cab fare.

I must be quiet for too long.

You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?she types.You’re seriously considering a party this afternoon for £30? Come on, Ells. Click no, and get some sleep.

But I can’t. The situation feels too close to home. Too real. I can picture having nothing but a few bank notes in my purse, worried about getting to work and back and hating the idea of seeming so broke in front of my colleagues. If I turned up for this guy, I could buy some drinks for him and his colleagues as well. At least make him feel comfortable. He must be so alone to reach out like this.

The sympathy churns inside me. It’s not sympathy though, is it? It’s empathy. I’ve been in this guy’s shoes. Sure, I’ve never reached out to anyone via an agency website, but I met Eb in a dirty chatroom, and she was there when I needed her. She changed my life. Surely I can do it. Just to help someone.

Fuck it. I click on accept. The party is at 5 p.m. – time enough to get a bit of sleep and get over there, toCentral Parade shopping centrein the middle of the city. Maybe he even has a job like I had, in a store at the shopping centre.

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