First, drink this, she said, and giggled. I looked down into the glass. It looked disgusting. Deciding I would be strong, I lifted the cup to my lips...and drank it all down. It was just some sort of banana juice with a bitter aftertaste. Theyd tried to scare me off with the look of it. I laughed. That wasnt so bad. Good! Now, lie down on the couch over there, Poppy told me. An alarm bell went off in my head. Why? Whats going to happen? The girls seemed to buzz with excitement. So did my head.. And Tracey hadn't forgotten the time she and Buttercup woke too late to get to the front of the queue of the other women waiting to get into work, and ended up having to walk back home without having got anything for their pains of actually getting there. As a prostitute you were guaranteed of getting something, and the returns were substantially better than sealing pies in cellophane, slicing legs of ham or packing munitions. In fact, after her first day, Tracey was wondering why she'd not. More

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