Free Beauty by Louise Mensch Page B

prowess into question. He’d given up the idea of passing her round as soon as he’d come inside her; the irritating wriggles of protest and teary eyes told him she wouldn’t be hooking herself out like he wanted. But, no matter, he’d fucked her, and that was what counted. And now he was supposed to be getting his props, dammit, not taking shit from George Linden.
    ‘I banged her.’
    George lifted his eyebrows, annoyingly. ‘Show us the photos, then.’
    ‘Jesus, man! She was lying right next to me.’
    ‘And you didn’t snap a quick shot of that sweet ass? Come on, Ed. Give it up.’
    He coloured. ‘I’ll show you, you prick. Let’s go have a coffee.’
    Ralph lifted a brow. ‘I thought we couldn’t go in there again.’
    ‘Just once. Apparently Georgie here needs proof. What are they going to do? Ban me because the waitress opened her legs?’
    ‘Fine.’ Linden was a little red now, too. ‘I don’t believe you. Let’s see how she reacts.’
    ‘I’m not drinking the coffee, though.’ Edward was light now, giddy at the thought of showing off. ‘Bet she spits in it.’
    ‘Hey, Dina.’ Mike was on her case again, but she didn’t mind. For two days, Dina had been working numbly, trying to get through it.
    She felt so dumb – so used, so humiliated. Edward Fielding – whatever his real name was – had just fucked her and vanished. After all the catcalls she’d brushed off, all the hooting men, this rich kid was patient for a couple of weeks, and she fell for it . . .
    She didn’t even like him. Didn’t want him. And this would be the story of her virginity for the rest of her life . . .
    Just like your momma. Town slut .
    ‘Yes, Mike?’ She was mopping down the counter in the back. Her rage and shame needed channelling. Dina had called the landlord of her building yesterday and made him an offer, a low offer, for her apartment. He’d accepted . . . Last time he saw the place, it was a grubby little dive.
    She had a mortgage lined up. Credit was easy, and Dina had a plan. No income verification, a couple of points extra on the interest rate, but it didn’t matter. The landlord wanted to close this month and Dina was more than willing. Her tiny savings would be the deposit, and she would flip it as soon as the ink was dry.
    She didn’t want to live where Edward had been. She didn’t want him to be able to find her. The shame was so intense, she didn’t even want this job.
    One day, he might come back . . .
    She polished the countertop aggressively. And, just as she was thinking about it . . .
    ‘Your boyfriend,’ Mike said, with a smile.
    Dina froze. She put the cloth down, carefully. ‘What?’
    ‘Over there. With his friends. Ready to make up, I expect . . . ?’
    She didn’t rise to the question. Screw him; what business was it of his?
    ‘Thanks.’ Dina moved to look, her heart thumping. Maybe she had Edward all wrong. Maybe he’d been injured, in an accident, got sick and was here now to make it right . . .
    He was there in the corner, sitting at his usual table with that group of goons all around him – including the one that had barracked her, the guy Edward apologised for. What was his name . . . ? George Linden.
    George was born in a barn . . .
    Only now they were sitting together and laughing.
    Like nothing happened.
    Rage surged up in her, so intense, so white hot, she had to steady herself against the counter for a minute. She was dizzy.
    ‘You going to take their order?’
    ‘Sure. Just a second.’ Dina picked up a pot of coffee.
    ‘That’s old. Get a fresh one.’
    ‘It’s fine,’ she said. She marched away from Mike, towards the table. Edward was sitting there, looking nasty, laughing and leering at her.
    ‘Hey, Dina,’ he said, and the other boys nudged him and cackled under their breath. ‘How you been?’
    ‘Can I get you something?’ she said, coldly.
    ‘Now, don’t get an attitude. Just because I didn’t call after