Authors: Frederic Lindsay
Without
taking
his
eyes
from
what
he
held,
he
said,
'She's
a
slag,
knows
what
she's
doing,
must
do.
You're
not
making
her,
not
really.’
Cocky
young
bastard!
What
was
he
talking
about?
He knew
nothing
of
the
power.
'You're
a
lucky
bitch,'
the
voice
told
her.
'You're
at
the
dog
show,
yes
you
are.
The
judges
are
going
over
your
points.
They're
really
going
over
them.
Find
out
what
kind
of
bitch
you
are.
It
wouldn't
surprise
me
if
you
were
in
line
for
the
first
prize.
Wag
your
tail,
go
on,
give
us
a
bark.’
As
she
moved
against
him,
the
Garage
Owner
groaned
with
pleasure;
but
at
the
double
note
of
the
broken
cry
she
gave
the
young
man
snatched
his
hand
away
in
guilty
fright.
'First
prize!'
the
Garage
Owner
wheezed,
wriggling
his bulk
against
her.
'I've
got
it
here;
I'm
going
to
give
it
to
her.’
'I
think
you
might
get
a
prize
from
all
the
judges,'
he
said,
looking
down
on
them.
'Tell
you
what –
you
need
a
pee
first
–
lift
your
leg
and
do
it
like
the
dogs.’
As
the
fat
man
cursed
and
bumped
back,
the
girl
cocked up
a
leg.
Urine's
sharp
stench
twitched
their
nostrils
and
a
stain
spread
on
the
crotch
of
her
jeans
and
darkened
along
the
thigh.
'That's
a
bloody
liberty,
that
is,'
the
Garage
Owner
complained.
'You're
an
unhygienic
bastard.’
'Don't
worry,'
he
said.
'They're
due
off
about
now.
And when
we've
finished
with
her,
she'll
clean
up
the
mess
.’
'She
can
clean
up
the
crap
with
a
toothbrush.
That's
a
trick
I
could
learn
her,'
the
Minder
said,
laughing.
The
girl's
indignity
had
released
him
from
his
inhibitions.
'Finished
with
her?'
the
Garage
Owner
cried
in
his
high
fat
man's
falsetto.
'Who's
talking
about
being
finished
with
her?
We
haven't
bleeding
started
on
her.
It'll
be
a
long
time
before
we're
finished
with
her.
A
long
time
before
I'm
finished
with
her.’
'With
anybody?'
he
repeated
and
struggled
between
vanity
and
caution.
'I
can
put
other
people
under.
Course
I
can.
But –
I'm
not
denying
she's
a
bit
special.’
They
stared
at
her
where
she
crouched
on
the
floor
wiping
with
a
piece
of
rag
at
the
stains
on
the
carpet.
About
all
of
them
there
was
an
air
of
satiety
like
men
who
had
eaten
too
well.
'She
was
my
bit
of
luck
.
I'd
gone
to
this
office –'
'This
knocking
shop,
he
means,'
the
Minder
said.
'She
was
only
sixteen.
My
mouth
watered
when
I
saw
her.
I
got
her
talking.
She
was
having
a
bad
day,
and
me –
I
was
travelling
in
drugs
then –'
'Ladies'
underwear,
you
mean,'
the
Minder
said.
'You was
travelling
in
ladies'
underwear.’
The
Garage
Owner wheezed
a
chuckle,
indulging
him.
'I
was
practically
a
doctor.’
He
winked.
'She
trusts
me –
that's
the
secret.
I
send
her
a
letter
and
she
meets
me.
I
don't
just
bring
her
here,
you
know.
We've
eaten
up
West
and
one
time
I
had
her
for
the
weekend
at
Brighton.
But
I
put
the
blocks
in,
don't
I?
She
don't
remember
anything
I
don't
want
her
to.’
'She
won't
remember
any
of
this?'
the
Minder's
friend asked.
'Not
what
we've
done?'
'Put
it
this
way,
she
hasn't
so
far
–
and
I've
used
her
regular
these
last
three
years.
Got
a
fair
bit
of
cash
out
of
her
as
well.
For
medical
treatment.
Her
folks
give
it
her.
One
time
they
got
a
bit
stroppy
about
the
cost
and
I
told
her
she'd
a
paralysed
hand.
She
couldn't
straighten
it
out.
Not
until
they
gave
her
something
to
get
it
treated.
Now
she's
on
a
better
earner
she
pays
her
own
way.
Well,
it's
worth
it,
isn't
it –
to
keep
healthy?'
With
only
a
touch
of
parody,
he
shifted
to
the
accent
of
a
different
class.
'There's
no
waiting
list,
of
course,
not
like
the
bloody
National
Health –
she's
a
private
patient.’
'What
about
those?
What
happens
if
somebody
sees
those?
Her
mother
or
somebody?'