When Penny came back she was already wearing he pyjamas, "I'm starting early tomorrow and I'm dancing at the club later. Why don't you come with me?"
"Penny, I'm not interested in watching you or any of the other girls stripping."
"I didn't think you would be, and it's not why I suggested it. Come and talk to the girls, watch how a checkout girl or a young mum transform themselves with a bit of makeup and change of clothes. Go backstage take a look at the audience, they aren't all male."
I did as she suggested, got some ideas about different and amazing effects that can be achieved with makeup, costumes and lighting. An idea began to form. Watching them dance, and ignoring the fact that they were stripping, I admired their supple and graceful moves. I spied on the audience, there were a scattering of women with their partners, but what shocked me most was what was going on under some tables.
Back in the dressing room, I asked if they were upset or offended by those actions.
"We ignore it, if the punters get too out of hand, the bouncers will eject them," one of the girls said.
"Some of us have seen and endured far worse," said Penny.
"What?"
"Not tonight, it's late, I'll tell you another day."
There was obviously a story here that needed to be told, my idea would have to go on hold.
Over the next week, she told me about the sexual abuse by her stepfather, her mother not believing her. School not believing her, because her mother told them she was making it up.
Playing truant, running away, all because she didn't know who to turn to. Eventually, she was put into care. At first, things were no better, she along with some of the younger girls suffered abuse from a couple of the older girls and one of the carers. Her education suffered and she was now trying to catch up.
YOU ARE READING
It all started with a Hen Night
General FictionDressing as a woman to go to a hen night, opens a new life for Paul