Jigsaw Lovers Read Free Page A

street which had been missed by the trend of gentrification, which had transformed other roads in the area.
    James had come to her flat, which was little more than a glorified bedsit, one evening, two years ago.
    ‘My name is James,’ he had said as she let him in and closed the front door.
    ‘James?’ she asked.
    ‘Yes. James. Just James. That will be sufficient for the purposes of our relationship. James is all you need to know me by.’
    ‘And what would you like to call me, James?’ Her voice was well educated and refined.
    ‘I would like, if I may, to call you Diana.’
    ‘Diana. Yes, that’s a nice name. The huntress of classical mythology.’
    ‘I would like to refer to you as Diana Johnston, in all our dealings together. Is that alright with you?’ he asked as though seeking her approval, but expecting a yes answer. It was part of his opening approach that he had used frequently.
    He was in his mid-thirties, rugged and wiry in appearance, well spoken and well dressed, in a woollen three-piece suit with silk tie. He looked slightly out of the ordinary in relation to the men who usually frequented this part of town, and who had bought her favours, recently.
    ‘That’s quite all right, James.’ She understood his need for anonymity. He probably had a wife and family at home. As for calling her Diana, she assumed he had a fantasy for a girl of that name.
    She offered him a drink which he declined. She was about to go through the routine of what she could offer and for what particular price, but he held up his hand to stop her.
    ‘Miss Johnston, I’m not what you think I am.’
    ‘No, of course you aren’t, but don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. I never kiss and tell.’ She giggled playfully at her joke.
    ‘You misunderstand me. I have a business proposition to put to you.’
    ‘Of course. Isn’t that why you’re here?’
    ‘The reason I’m here is that I represent a company which is interested in purchasing exclusive rights in your, how shall I put this? particular business.’
    A worried look crossed her face. She had heard stories from other girls as to how the gangs demanded protection money. She had hoped that by keeping a low profile she would have been able to avoid this unwelcome attention, but obviously not.
    James, noticing her look of concern, tried to put her at ease.
    ‘There’s nothing to worry about. I’m not here to threaten you or anything like that,’ he said reassuringly, ‘I merely wish to see if you would be interested in working on a full-time basis for my company. If you are, in principle, then I will provide you with more details as to what I propose.’
    She relaxed a little and poured herself a drink. ‘Well, although I did choose to lead this existence, it isn’t exactly the life I’d envisaged for myself,’ she admitted, ‘so I’m all ears. Tell me what it is you think I could do for you.’
    Although James had read the reports that his team had prepared for him about her, and had studied the photographs and videos that they had taken, he was quite unprepared and amazed at how beautiful and enchanting she actually was, face to face.
    He had made it a rule, long ago, never to mix business and pleasure and had always adhered to it. On this occasion, however, the thought went through his mind that maybe he was being too hard on himself. It remained a thought, for after a moment he shook his head, smiled inwardly and regained his latent professionalism.
    James was responsible for the recruitment, vetting and training of suitable women and also, increasingly these days, men, into the organisation. One of their usual lines of recruitment was to answer advertisements in the personal columns of the evening newspapers, what’s on and so-called speciality taste magazines.
    They had been doing this now for over five years and had a considerable data base of the various services that were on offer. They could find someone suitable for virtually any occasion or