‘Let’s start,’ Libby cut them both off, and grinned. ‘If you’re good girls I’ll tell you what kind of kisser he is.’
‘Kissing? Ugh! You’re such a Girl Guide. We want the juicy stuff.’
Libby was facing away from the others now and fiddling with her phone. Jamie gave a start as the first beats of ‘Let’s Get Retarded’ by the Black Eyed Peas filled the office and the club below. After a moment the two blondes jogged off the stage and up the runways through the tables and chairs of the club. The music cut off as both girls got into position.
‘From the top,’ Libby shouted, before starting the song again. The expressions on the women’s faces faded from amusement to fierce concentration; they both flipped twice down the runways in time to the beat until they met in the middle and started a dance routine. Libby was shouting encouragement above the music throughout, and a couple of times she paused it to show them how one of their moves should be perfectly executed.
On the third pause one of the blondes interrupted her, asking her to change the song and give them a break. Libby shook her head. But after a few minutes of encouragement, and when it became clear she was facing a mutiny, she relented, moving to the centre of the stage as ‘Tears’ by Clean Bandit filled the space. Jamie frowned; it was not a song he could imagine a stripper using to work a pole.
The blondes moved back to watch from the side of the stage as Libby fell into a deep crouch. What followed was one of the most beautiful things Jamie had ever seen. Libby danced the entire song as if the music was part of her body, her movements a combination of complex gymnastics and sweeping ballet. By the end he could actually feel a sting in the back of his eyes.
‘My God,’ he whispered, stepping back from the glass. The blondes clapped and cheered as the song ended and were joined in their applause by Barry and two cleaners who had abandoned their duties to watch.
‘So this teenager comes to me one day,’ Steve said, and Jamie jerked in surprise, so caught up in what he was watching he’d forgotten the bastard was even there, sitting behind his big desk. ‘Tells me she wants to dance for me. I thought no way was she eighteen. To be honest I would have guessed more like fifteen, what with Libby’s aversion to make-up. I tell her to get lost. To come back when she’s legal. She ignores me, walks up onto my stage and gives a performance that blows any dancer I’ve ever had out of the water.
‘Selfish prick that I am, I hire her on the spot. I could tell you that I did it for altruistic reasons, seeing as she would have gone to another club had I not snapped her up, but I’m not that good of a bloke. I hired her because I knew immediately what she could do for my business.
‘A month in, my take was up by a third. Two months on she’d started training the other dancers. Three months on I doubled my profits. That was when I splashed out on reinforcing the benches and tables. She showed me that insane Olympic gymnast shit on a bench one day – said she could work it into a performance as long as I let her ditch the stripper heels. Six months on, the heels were ditched and my business was the most successful of its kind in the UK. Now that she’s teaching the girls all this other fancy shit, reckon profits will go up yet again. Believe me, I owe her. Every chance I get I slip extra money into her purse, her handbag. She’s so disorganised that she’s never even noticed. I pay her extra for coaching the girls, which she accepts, but she won’t be paid more than them for dancing.’
‘Stubborn,’ Jamie muttered as he watched the girls on stage fall into a group hug.
‘As fuck,’ Steve shot back. ‘’Fraid you’re going to have to think outside the box if you want to sort this one out, sunshine.’ Jamie dragged his eyes away from the scene below him and focused on the man at his side.
‘Are you serious about owing her? Would you help her even if it meant she didn’t dance for you anymore?’
‘She’s trained the others up. One of the girls can even do the bench work. It wouldn’t be the same, but it would still be totally unique.’ Steve paused and his eyes drifted to the women below before he hardened his expression. ‘I pay my debts and … she deserves to live the life she wants. Yes, I’d help with that.’
Jamie’s eyes followed Libby across the stage, an idea forming in his mind. All this time he’d been trying to restrict Libby, control her, box her in. He hadn’t acknowledged the incredible talent involved in what she did here. He hadn’t shown her the respect she deserved. It wasn’t Libby who needed to change, it was him.
His eyes wandered to the rest of the club. The décor was plush, beautiful even, like an old ornate theatre; nothing like a typical strip club.
‘How much would it cost to temporarily remove the poles?’ Jamie asked.
Steve looked back at him for a moment, and then he smiled.
Chapter 27
Step down
‘You’ve …’ Libby broke off as she stared down at the paper in her hand, then back up at Dr Morrison’s averted face, ‘you’ve had a CRB check? I … I don’t understand – why are you showing this to me?’
Dr Morrison had been waiting outside Libby’s locker in the surgical department that morning when Libby arrived with Rosie and she’d asked if she could talk to Libby in her office. (The earliest Libby could drop Rosie off at the nursery was eight but the surgical team she was now placed with started much earlier. Libby had taken to bringing Rosie with her into the hospital before she dropped her at the nursery so she could print off the list and go through the patients in the secretaries’ office; not an ideal activity with a four-year-old in tow, but it meant that although Libby was late for the ward round she was at least well prepared.) To be honest Libby had assumed it was about an inappropriate radiology request.
‘I am approved for childcare purposes,’ Dr Morrison said to the desk, before affording Libby very brief eye contact. ‘I also hold a Paediatric Advanced Life Support certificate.’
‘Um … well. That’s great. Good for you.’ Libby smiled awkwardly as she handed the papers back to Dr Morrison. Dr Morrison took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.
‘I can look after Rosie for you in the mornings so you can start at seven-thirty with the surgical team. She would be safe with me and I know Dr Grantham starts work even earlier, as does the other student Kira.’
Libby’s mouth fell open. ‘I – ’
‘Hurrah!’ shouted Rosie, jumping up and down at her side and jolting her hand. ‘I can stay with Millie!’
‘I am always here at 0700 hours and I will provide a nutritionally balanced breakfast for Rosie every morning.’ Dr Morrision shoved another piece of paper under Libby’s nose certifying her in dietetics for children. ‘The only referees I can provide are Dr and Mrs Phillips, but they are upstanding citizens and have four children and twelve grandchildren. Rosie would not be in any clinical area and would be under my observation the entire time.’
Libby glanced at Dr Phillips, who was smiling up at Dr Morrison from his office chair. ‘Millie, love, I think you’ve given the girl enough evidence to be going on with.’ He turned his lined face toward Libby and winked. ‘The little lass will be fine with us and I can personally recommend Millie’s “nutritionally balanced” breakfasts – she feeds me every day.’
Libby frowned. ‘I … um …’ Rosie dropped her hand and moved over to Dr Morrison to pull on her skirt.
