‘Excellent,’ said Matthew, drawing back against a wall. ‘We’ll wait here. Easy to monitor. Ideal for our purposes.’
‘Actually,’ said Luke, peering down the alleyway. ‘No.’
Matthew frowned. ‘Why not?’
‘Well, a dark, narrow alleyway leading to a theatre – a place of sin and iniquity according to the religious – also makes it an ideal place for commercial transactions.’
Jane was puzzled. ‘You mean selling oranges? Nell Gwyn sold oranges.’
‘Yes,’ said Matthew firmly before Luke could speak. ‘They’re selling oranges.’
‘You can see the Great Fire hasn’t happened yet,’ said Jane, looking around. ‘Everything’s made of wood and thatch and it’s all crammed together and there are open fires everywhere.’
‘Yep,’ said Luke. ‘I reckon even St Mary’s would call this a bit of a death trap.’
Remembering Luke’s frequent comments on his taciturnity, Matthew made an effort at conversation. ‘My mum was at the Great Fire.’
‘Oh my God,’ said Luke. ‘She didn’t start it, did she?’
‘No, of course not. But she did get lost and Uncle Markham nearly had to shoot her.’
They stared at him. ‘Was it something she said?’ said Luke. ‘Because I can definitely see someone shooting her one day.’
‘She outstayed her welcome. A second Maxwell was about to appear in Mauritius.’
Jane shivered. There had been one infamous instance of a person being in the same Time twice and the subsequent consequences were required learning for all trainees before they were even allowed to think about getting in a pod. ‘Imagine trying to get two hands in the same glove,’ their instructor had said. ‘Simultaneously.’
They peered again down the narrow alleyway, which was lined with women ranging from the well-dressed to the barely dressed at all.
‘Wow,’ said Luke, blinking. ‘Don’t look, Jane. You’ll only have questions Matthew and I can’t answer.’
But they’d been spotted. A woman – probably much younger than she looked – was approaching them. Her greasy red hair was piled bird’s-nest-like on top of her head and hung in tangled snarls either side of her face. Her gown had once been a dark red but the years had faded it to an indeterminate rusty colour. Dark patches stained under her arms and down the front of her bodice. Her skin was terrible, pitted and scarred, cruelly emphasised by her artificially red cheeks and lips. Jane felt desperately sorry for her and resolved never to complain about her lot again.
Adjusting the bodice of her dress for maximum impact, she parked herself squarely in front of Matthew, smiled gappily at him, inserted a shoulder between him and Jane and expertly separated him from the herd.
Matthew froze. Rabbit in car headlights, was Jane’s first thought.
What the hell? was Luke’s first thought.
He, Luke Parrish, had never regarded himself as overly conceited. Blessed with a sense of humour, he was well aware of his many and varied faults – and if he wasn’t, then his team informed him of them quickly enough – but given that he was tall, handsome, charming, and most importantly, rich, the idea that someone – anyone – could be more desirable than he himself was as surprising as it was unthinkable. That that someone could be Matthew Farrell – short, scrawny, shaggy and with weird eyes . . . What the hell was the matter with this woman? Was she blind? At the very least her professional genes should have homed in on him – Luke Parrish – everyone’s first choice. Instead of which . . .
This was a first on a number of levels for Team 236. Luke struggling to comprehend a world where he wasn’t automatically someone’s first pick. Jane meeting her first prostitute. Matthew suddenly face to face with his first sexual encounter. He and Jane were both incandescent with embarrassment.
‘Just say no,’ said Luke, amused.
Matthew shook his head. Whereas Luke never had any problem with words, speech was never his first choice when dealing with new situations. His childhood had been bloody, violent, and over with very quickly. Conversation had been a luxury for other people. Those days were gone but old habits die hard.
‘You’ve never done this before, have you?’ said Luke.
Matthew shook his head again.
‘OK – just smile politely – no point in upsetting anyone in case her pimp’s not far away – it’s all right, Jane, I’ll explain about pimps later . . .’
‘I know what a pimp is,’ said Jane, indignantly and incorrectly.
The young woman, possibly considering she hadn’t made her intentions quite clear, moved closer still, running her fingers down Matthew’s arm.
Matthew tried to step back and collided heavily with the wall behind.
Having manoeuvred him into the optimum position, the young woman uttered a few words in an accent so strong he had no chance of understanding her.
He panicked. ‘What did she say? I didn’t catch what she said.’
Luke grinned. ‘I think she’s agreeing the price. Would you like me to negotiate on your behalf? I could probably get you quite a good deal.’
‘No. Just tell her I’m not interested.’
‘Easily done, Matthew. Shake your head and move away.’
‘She’s got my arm,’ whispered Matthew. ‘What do I do?’
Luke pretended to consult his watch. ‘Well, we do have a few minutes in hand if you fancy having a man made of you behind the wall.’
A faint sound from Matthew indicated he had every objection to having a man made of him behind the wall.
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ said Jane.
‘No, hang on,’ said Bolshy Jane. ‘This is funny.’
‘He’s spoken for,’ said Jane, as firmly as she could, placing herself between the young woman and her potential customer.
She was ignored.
‘You two really don’t have a clue, do you?’ said Luke. He addressed the young woman and shrugged. ‘No money. Sorry.’
The young woman stared at Matthew for a moment. He wondered what would happen to her if she failed to earn her quota for the evening. Nothing good, that was for sure.
Bowing to her, he said, ‘I’m so sorry – I don’t have enough money for someone as special as you, but it was nice to meet you today.’
For a moment she stared, then, getting the message if not the individual words, she smiled at Matthew, curled her lip at Luke, ignored Jane completely, identified a more promising customer on the other side of the street and sauntered away.