that’s the part the law doesn’t want to look at.’
‘The media would have us believe,’ Mike said, ‘that criminalising the punter would stop men paying for sex?’
‘Bloody joking, that would make it worse – like prohibition, everything would go underground, playing into the hands of those who want to take our cash.’ Martha shook her head. ‘What the punter and the service provider do might be a moral problem, but only if you want to make it into one.’
‘Despite what they’re doing in the States?’ Mike asked.
‘Don’t know much about that. Probably the same old chestnut – trying make men see it as immoral.’
‘Can anything be done?’ Mike asked.
‘What , put myself out of business?’ Martha laughed. ‘But, I know what you’re getting at. Tidy it up, make it safe.’ She shifted her weight on the arm of the sofa. A searching look came into her eyes. ‘The demand for paid sex has always been there, probably always will be.’
‘Why?’ Mike asked.
His curiosity had been piqued. He leaned forward and stroked his chin.
‘Why does a client visit an escort?’ Martha said. ‘All sorts of reasons. Female company, not getting it a home – that’s a biggie. The wife wants cuddly-cuddly, all sweet and romantic, drifting into the bedroom wrapped in the intimacy of desire. A woman seeks intimacy first and then sex – men are wired the other way around. Then there are the sex fantasies; the man is afraid to live them out at home; scared of being called weird.’
Martha shrugged. ‘All in a day’s work.’
‘And your own opinion?’ Mike asked.
Martha squinted at Mike. ‘There’s the Golden Egg theory. There are people who’ll pay five thousand quid for a healthy female egg. A man’s sperm is not even worth two a penny. Work it out yourself. A sperm donor will be lucky to get a hundred quid – how many tens of thousands of sperm are in that one ejaculate? Only one sperm is needed.’
Martha leaned forward. ‘Biologically women are simply valuable to men.’
She shrugged. ‘Anyway, men are always paying for sex. They buy dinner and gifts – jewellery, clothes, perfume. Do women buy men gifts? No. Men want sex, men need sex and they’re always bartering for it.’
Mike nodded.
‘And,’ Martha said, ‘barter works both ways. The Casting Couch being the most famous. How many women use sex, or the allure of sex, to get a promotion, a raise or a job?’ She glanced at me and winked. ‘I’ll take cash any day.’
‘And the best clients?’ I asked.
‘Bloomin’ obvious. The ones who want no nonsense, no attachment sex.’ She looked at Mike. ‘What about you? Why do you visit Nina?’
‘At first it was curiosity.’
Martha snorted. ‘Curiosity, ha.’ She smiled at Mike. ‘That’s a new one. Sure about that?’
Mike blinked.
‘Anyway,’ Martha said, ‘you came here and found something you weren’t expecting: Nina.’
‘That’s true,’ Mike said. ‘I like her. That was clear from the first moment . . . I like her too much for my own good. Maybe I can see what she could become.’
Martha chuckled. ‘If she put her act together, she’d be making £500 an hour in London or New York.’
‘I didn’t mean it that way.’
‘ I know you didn’t,’ Martha said. ‘Still doesn’t allow you to be cheating on your wife?’
‘I don’t cheat.’
‘Oh, right,’ Martha said, raising an eyebrow. ‘I see.’
‘Emotion is like a current.’ Mike glanced at me. ‘It’ s not two beacons of light locked permanently together. Emotion is a state of being.’
‘I’m not with you,’ Martha said.
‘It’s a misconception to say you love only one person. I love my wife, my children, my dogs. Then there is empathy for friends, employees and so on.’ Mike spread his hands. ‘Emotion doesn’t live in a little box with a neat little set of rules – that’s the nonsense of fairy tales.’
‘Bleedin’ hell,’ Martha said. ‘I’m impressed. A man
‘The media would have us believe,’ Mike said, ‘that criminalising the punter would stop men paying for sex?’
‘Bloody joking, that would make it worse – like prohibition, everything would go underground, playing into the hands of those who want to take our cash.’ Martha shook her head. ‘What the punter and the service provider do might be a moral problem, but only if you want to make it into one.’
‘Despite what they’re doing in the States?’ Mike asked.
‘Don’t know much about that. Probably the same old chestnut – trying make men see it as immoral.’
‘Can anything be done?’ Mike asked.
‘What , put myself out of business?’ Martha laughed. ‘But, I know what you’re getting at. Tidy it up, make it safe.’ She shifted her weight on the arm of the sofa. A searching look came into her eyes. ‘The demand for paid sex has always been there, probably always will be.’
‘Why?’ Mike asked.
His curiosity had been piqued. He leaned forward and stroked his chin.
‘Why does a client visit an escort?’ Martha said. ‘All sorts of reasons. Female company, not getting it a home – that’s a biggie. The wife wants cuddly-cuddly, all sweet and romantic, drifting into the bedroom wrapped in the intimacy of desire. A woman seeks intimacy first and then sex – men are wired the other way around. Then there are the sex fantasies; the man is afraid to live them out at home; scared of being called weird.’
Martha shrugged. ‘All in a day’s work.’
‘And your own opinion?’ Mike asked.
Martha squinted at Mike. ‘There’s the Golden Egg theory. There are people who’ll pay five thousand quid for a healthy female egg. A man’s sperm is not even worth two a penny. Work it out yourself. A sperm donor will be lucky to get a hundred quid – how many tens of thousands of sperm are in that one ejaculate? Only one sperm is needed.’
Martha leaned forward. ‘Biologically women are simply valuable to men.’
She shrugged. ‘Anyway, men are always paying for sex. They buy dinner and gifts – jewellery, clothes, perfume. Do women buy men gifts? No. Men want sex, men need sex and they’re always bartering for it.’
Mike nodded.
‘And,’ Martha said, ‘barter works both ways. The Casting Couch being the most famous. How many women use sex, or the allure of sex, to get a promotion, a raise or a job?’ She glanced at me and winked. ‘I’ll take cash any day.’
‘And the best clients?’ I asked.
‘Bloomin’ obvious. The ones who want no nonsense, no attachment sex.’ She looked at Mike. ‘What about you? Why do you visit Nina?’
‘At first it was curiosity.’
Martha snorted. ‘Curiosity, ha.’ She smiled at Mike. ‘That’s a new one. Sure about that?’
Mike blinked.
‘Anyway,’ Martha said, ‘you came here and found something you weren’t expecting: Nina.’
‘That’s true,’ Mike said. ‘I like her. That was clear from the first moment . . . I like her too much for my own good. Maybe I can see what she could become.’
Martha chuckled. ‘If she put her act together, she’d be making £500 an hour in London or New York.’
‘I didn’t mean it that way.’
‘ I know you didn’t,’ Martha said. ‘Still doesn’t allow you to be cheating on your wife?’
‘I don’t cheat.’
‘Oh, right,’ Martha said, raising an eyebrow. ‘I see.’
‘Emotion is like a current.’ Mike glanced at me. ‘It’ s not two beacons of light locked permanently together. Emotion is a state of being.’
‘I’m not with you,’ Martha said.
‘It’s a misconception to say you love only one person. I love my wife, my children, my dogs. Then there is empathy for friends, employees and so on.’ Mike spread his hands. ‘Emotion doesn’t live in a little box with a neat little set of rules – that’s the nonsense of fairy tales.’
‘Bleedin’ hell,’ Martha said. ‘I’m impressed. A man
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