Free A Poison Tree (Time, Blood and Karma Book 3) by John Dolan Page A

the earliest opportunity. Nicola for her part had disappeared off to London with her layabout boyfriend shortly afterwards and Adele hadn’t heard from her since.
    The job at the discount store paid the rent and utility bills , and her earnings from prostitution paid for everything else, with a little bit over for a rainy day. And there were plenty of rainy days in Leicester.
    Adele had performed the occasional trick in Glasgow, and now that she had anonymity and no chance of bumping into anyone she knew, she decided to augment her income by joining the staff of the Gold Club where she worked two long weekend shifts.
    The Gold Club was situated in an uncared-for Victorian house in the Frog Island area of Leicester. It was equipped with a dungeon – which Adele declined to frequent – and five bedrooms each containing a Jacuzzi and a corner shower. The Jacuzzis were hardly ever switched on, since most clients only wanted a one-hour ‘quickie’. This was just as well as only two of them worked. The walls of each room were painted dark purple, the floors were uncarpeted and the whole building reeked of sweat and stale beer. Miss Connie, who owned and managed the place, sold booze as well as sex.
    Adele found a degree of camaraderie among the ladies of the Gold Club, although she didn’t want to become too friendly. It was better that way.
    Most of the women who worked there were local housewives picking up a little cash on the side although Leona, a blonde girl from Wolverhampton, was working her way through Law School. When Adele had expressed surprise at this, her colleague had pointed out ‘lots’ of female students did it. Furthermore, according to Leona, many of the female lawyers in Cuba were also on the game. “Law practice just doesn’t pay enough there,” Leona announced. “Besides, there are plenty of men who would like to screw a lawyer after all the lawyers who have screwed them.”
    Because she could still pass for a teenager – at least in the club’s low lighting and the twilight world of the male mind – Adele often attracted the sort of client who liked his women to dress up in a school uniform. She couldn’t have cared less. The uniform attracted an extra payment. She didn’t even bother to have a pseudonym, although everyone else who worked there did.
    What the fuck , she thought. Nobody knows me anyway .
    Adele soaped herself in the shower and reflected on just how creepy most men were when not bound by the chains of convention and everyday appearance. And the existence of the Gold Club’s dungeon testified to how many men preferred to be bound by real chains. Nina (real name Daphne), the house dominatrix, had difficulty hiding her contempt for many of her clients. She took especial pleasure in inflicting beatings on some of them. It just seemed to make them eager for more.
    “Civilization is a thin veneer over something really dark,” Nina had observed to Adele one day. “I can’t wait to save up enough money to get out of this business.”
    “What is it you want to do instead?” Adele had asked.
    “I want to open an art gallery in Hull,” was the enthusiastic reply, “and maybe offer painting classes for children. Now, would you be a darling look after my beer for me? I have to go and pee on a customer.”
    Adele switched off the water and stepped out of the shower. She wrapped herself in a thick white towel and padded into her small bedroom.
    The walls were covered in an off-white pebbledash, which she deduced the landlord had chosen because a slop with a paintbrush would quickly conceal any nasty stains left there by less caring tenants.
    She had made efforts to make the room more welcoming. Cheap prints of watercolours hung on the walls and a tapestry was positioned over the bedhead. Bright patterned cushions were piled on the bed itself and a large teddy bear sat on a cabinet.
    Adele opened the bedside drawer to check she had a supply of massage oil. She had. Two half-empty