forgotten hotels. Outside, perched on a plastic chair chained to an iron railing, a well-dressed guard with a lazy eye smokes the stub of what was once

small sign above, so most of the word ‘Wonder’ runs across it in bright, b

eak of his hat, careful not to be spotted. Sash hugs herself against the cold, pulling h

ckdrop, the hem of her skirt sweeping the floor as she sashays around it. A bright eyed girl with pigtails takes her coat, and Isabella

holding Sash out at arms length as though to check the girl

, she agrees, a chipped front tooth digging

sly. “Thanks”, she says, although b

owns, motioning for Sash to come with her. Here a collection of internal pipes cling to the white walls like veins and arteries, humming and clicking with vibrant life

ella moves rapidly, gliding along as if connected to the floor by wheels, and more than once, something that is nothing more th

ir destination, her slender fingers smoothing the ringlets of Sash’s hair. She asks

shaking her head a

one of several in a corridor that look out on private rooms through floor to ceiling mirro

would be the solution to her problems, b

ly described it, knowing full well his stepsister knew exactly what s

act she had to go to him, but there was nowhere else she could turn. She needed the money and this was the only thing she could do to get it. This was the only thing h

ella informs her. “If someone wants to book you for the night

what kind of thing might await her. What kind of person. She holds onto the pole and

ng her curiosity. “You know, just to show you what it’

says. “I’d

work for as long and as often as you like, as long as the booths aren’t booked out. The more customers you have, the

nyway, keen to touch the nothingness. They pass through another red curtain, a large set of double doors protected on the other side by a guard whose ass Isabella pinches,

oney for sex, or any other service outside of the ones we offer here, and you accept, you will be asked to leave. This isn’t a

h n

here are plenty of places in the

ugh, believe me

th a chesterfield back, a drinks cabinet to the side, a table with a banker’s lamp, and a mahogany trim bookshelf. On the wall, a Salvador Dali print hangs, of a woman looking out of a window to the distant sea beyond. The decor is mode

r half live”, Isabella says.

the wallpaper and runs her hand along the line of books, before perching on the so

y, dancing her fingers along t

dog that’s just heard a noise

tart you off slowly”, she

that mean?”

orridor and retrace their steps back to the booth. Another dancer passes them on the way, her tight ass shimmying in the soft fabric of h

e once. If the customer likes you, y

doesn’t?”

abella says c