Simone
SIMONE
S imone and Remy left the bookshop ten minutes later in a light daze.
“That was…”
“It started off tame,” Simone said. “The end took an unexpected turn. Did it help you, however?”
“Yeah, I was thinking a lot about Mel in there,” Remy said. “She’s a new mum so I was thinking whether I, as her friend, could be doing—”
“No, Remy. Did it help you ? We came for you .”
“Oh, right.” Remy scratched behind her ear. “I wasn’t even thinking about me in there.”
Simone was not surprised.
With Piccadilly Circus filling with people, they decided to walk to Leicester Square station instead.
“It’s a nice evening,” Remy said. “Anything’s better than a suffocating tube ride.”
“That’s why I mainly drive,” Simone said.
“I’m too close to drive; I’m only in East Finchley.”
“But you used to live in Muswell Hill?”
Remy turned to Simone while maintaining their steady pace. “How did you know that?”
“You mentioned it in an author interview online; it was one of the first things I read when I googled you.”
“You googled me?”
“You’re a stranger—I do my due diligence.”
Remy shrugged. “Fair enough. Yeah, I used to live in Muswell Hill, but as you know, I’ve moved back in with my mum.”
“Because you were lonely after Lin, Melissa, and Nova dispersed?”
Remy smiled. “I’m surprised you remember their names. Yes and no. Yes, I was lonely, and no, I moved because it made financial sense.”
“You’re struggling financially?”
“Only a little.” Remy shoved her hands into her coat’s pockets and focused on the walk ahead. “It’ll be fine once I sell a second book. I just have to write it first. I also picked up some freelance work for a marketing company I used to work for before I quit to write full time.”
Once again, Simone was in awe of Remy’s honesty.
Truth be told, Simone wanted to believe that Remy was nothing more than an oversharer, and that if Simone hadn’t asked, Remy would have eventually told her all of this anyway.
But still, she wondered what it would be like to reciprocate with equally wild abandon.
“Was it awkward to return?” she asked instead.
“I thought it would be,” Remy said. “I could feel the tail between my legs, but my old boss didn’t care. They were just happy to have the extra help.”
“I applaud you for returning. Having multiple jobs seems to be the norm now.”
“Speaking of,” Remy said. “It’s pretty obvious teaching isn’t your only source of income, and you don’t give off trust fund vibes.”
“Good to know.”
“Oh, come on, you know about my baby so you kind of owe me a secret.”
“The exchanging of secrets in order to form a bond is still something adults do?” Simone asked. “I thought that was for schoolchildren.”
Remy could smell the distraction tactic a mile off. “When my mum read your palm, she said something about you living two lives.”
“I thought you doubted your mother’s clairvoyancy?”
“I do,” Remy said, “but it looked like you didn’t.”
Simone guided them onto a quieter street and sighed. Before her brain could tell her to do otherwise, she said, “I supplement my income.”
“Well, obviously, but—”
“With sex work. I’m an escort.”
“Sex work?” Remy stopped short, a criminal offense on a central London sidewalk. “But you look so… together,” she finally said.
Arms folded, Simone scowled. “What does that mean?”
“Fuck. Sorry, that was the wrong thing to say.”
“It was an ignorant thing to say, too.”
“Of course. I’m so sorry. Shit.”
“You shouldn’t swear so much,” Simone said. “It’s lazy. You’re a writer—you ought to be more creative.” She carried on walking and Remy jogged after her, slapping her palm repeatedly against her forehead before she caught up. “I don’t judge you!”
“Silence is an option, Remy.”
They walked to Leicester Square without speaking. But it was almost as busy as the station before, only now someone had vomited in the corner and further retching could be heard close by. Wordlessly the two women continued on to Charing Cross.
“Have I fucked up?” Remy asked finally. “Sorry, I mean, have I… disturbed the equilibrium our budding friendship was dependent on?”
Simone smiled. “I’m still not sure we can call this a friendship,” she said. “But the equilibrium of whatever we have is just fine.”
Remy sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.
“I really don’t know why I said that. How you earn your money doesn’t even bother me, so where that comment came from, I have no idea, but I know what it implied, so I truly am sorry.
Hey, I’m currently pregnant from a one-night stand I had because I couldn’t face the idea of being lonely for one more day so…
you can say something as equally judgmental about that if you want? ”
Simone softened because she could see Remy meant this sincerely. “I appreciate the offer,” she said, “but I’ll decline.”
“Okay.” And because Remy was… Remy, she could not allow the silence to go on for any longer than the three seconds it already had. “It’s not even a big deal,” she said, as blasé as possible. “I mean, people sleep with people for free all the time so what’s wrong with the way you do it, right?”
Simone rolled her eyes and patted Remy’s shoulder. “Well done. You’re very progressive.”
Remy chewed the inside of her lip. “Was I laying it on a bit thick?”
“Thicker than clotted cream.”
Remy nodded. “I thought once I’d found out your secret, I’d know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
The two walked in silence yet again. Simone thought that if you could get rid of all the people, central London was a beautiful place to be at night, with its red double-decker buses and blinking theater signs.
“Can I ask you something?”
“You can,” Simone said slowly, “but with the knowledge that whether or not I answer is up to me.”
“Of course.” Remy paused, weighing her words. “Why do you do it?”
Simone tilted her head from side to side. She had her answer, but she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to share this piece of herself with Remy.
“Honestly,” Simone said eventually, “I like sex and having money.” She turned to take in Remy’s reaction, bracing herself for shock, horror, or more subconscious judgment.
When she received only interest, she continued.
“Those are things that a woman is never allowed to admit she wants. Coming from a man, the former will sound typical and the latter ambitious. From me, it’s unladylike and greedy.
But one day… or rather, one evening, I decided to no longer care how I’m perceived; since I’m sure I’ll always be doing something ‘wrong’ anyway.
” She paused. “That’s not to say I have enjoyed every client, every sexual experience, of course, but I like what I do and how I choose to do it. ”
Simone and Remy both stopped to allow a woman with a pushchair more space.
Despite what Simone had said about no longer caring how people perceived her, she still felt compelled to defend herself to Remy.
(Simone would later conclude that she did this to lessen the likelihood of scaring Remy off.) “I’m not looking to be rich,” she said once they’d resumed their walk.
“I only want to live well and I can’t see why I should struggle when there’s a financial solution that I’m happy with.
I was tired of being told that if I canceled my TV subscriptions or never ate out again then I should be able to get by.
” Simone took a deep breath. “I don’t want to just get by; survival is a starting point, not an aspiration. ”
Remy considered chiming in, but Simone was on a roll and rapidly discovering that the issue with keeping everything to yourself is that everything is dying to come out.
“My only wish is to be comfortable,” Simone continued with a stubborn nod.
“I like knowing that if a surprise bill pops up, I can take care of it; I can get medical attention when I need it; I can afford to drive and not wholly depend on public transport. I can stay in a job I love even though the salary of said job is the only thing that won’t inflate.
I want to see more of the world, to take some time off and read the books I buy.
I want to be able to donate to charity and support small businesses.
I shouldn’t have to feel guilty for wanting more, when ‘more’ is now just a descriptor for the bare minimum. ”
A little out of breath, Simone checked for Remy’s latest facial expression, but she only looked contemplative.
“That said,” Simone continued, “my job affords me so much, but it has also cost me. I’ve lost…
things, but I’ve made enough peace with how my life currently stands.
I’ve made peace with the fact that wanting more is not synonymous with greed or ingratitude, and I won’t have anyone make me feel bad by attempting to convince me otherwise.
It is not selfish to want more money, especially since I’m the one earning it.
” Her manifesto now complete, Simone exhaled.
She had never said any of that out loud before.
Needless to say, Remy was in awe. She couldn’t admit that, however, in case it came off as insincere, and she did not want to mess up again.
“I’ve never really seen life that way,” Remy admitted. “The idea of taking from it as opposed to merely accepting what you receive.” They approached the Shaftesbury Theatre and stared at the crowds of people waiting to get in. “I guess my dreams have always been dictated by what seems possible.”
“That’s valid, too,” said Simone. “As far as I’m concerned, the ultimate goal is to be content.”
“And are you? Content?”
Simone was aware that her answer changed depending on the day she was asked.
However, at this exact moment, as they stood amidst London’s theater lights and endless noise, looking at one another, Simone could truthfully say, “I am, yes. There are still things I want that I may not know how to get, but I know I will get them, eventually.”
“If that’s your mindset, you must be unstoppable at work,” Remy said. “Both jobs.”