I was there- just like he asked me to be. London was already crawling with people, mainly tourists, who were all chatting in a variety of languages. Children tugged on their mother's sleeves, pointing out the different sights that the area had to show.

Countless joggers ran past me, all giving me dirty looks as I stood staring at my phone, only occasionally looking up to see if Derek was there. He was ten minutes late.

The first time I noticed him was when I looked up to see a tall figure in the distance, and I knew it was him. He had always stood out from the crowd because of his height, which was something I had loved about him. He was wearing all black, and a pair of sunglasses as if he was trying to mask his identity.

When he saw me, his lips formed a crude sort of smile and I noted how much he had changed. He had gotten old, much older than I remembered; there were hints of grey in his hair and there were some wrinkles in his slightly sagging face. He was no longer the cool bad-boy that I had originally found so appealing but instead a drunk old man who liked to perv on younger girls.

"You haven't changed my dear, I was worried that you would have gotten ugly!" His voice was raspy and his breath smelt of tobacco; I was immediately repulsed by him but I knew that I had to endure him.

"Hello Derek," I replied back, trying my best to keep my temper. As much as I hated to admit it, I needed him.

"Had a run in with the police recently so I've got to stay on the down low," his voice got lower as he spoke and he looked around as if there would be police ready to arrest him there and then.

"What for?" I wasn't really interested in his life but common politeness forced me to inquire about him.

"Child prostitution or something like that- girl was fifteen but nearly sixteen. Never got nobody knocking on my door when you were doing it," he looked on wistfully as if he was remembering our time together.

I had always wished that one day the police would come and save me, but they never did. I had to get myself out of that hellhole and then I ran away as if I was the criminal.

"What's the job you got for me?" I asked, bored of talking to him. Derek didn't scare me anymore, in fact I felt pity for him. A grown ass man with no job other than making girls sell their bodies.

"A stag do, they ordered a stripper," I hated the way he used the word 'ordered', as if the girl was a dish off a menu, "But she just broke her leg doing god knows what. I need a replacement."

"What would I have to do?" I asked, knowing fully that Derek probably didn't have a clue- he let the clients get away with anything.

"I don't know, strip probably. It's for a rich fella, so nothing too disgusting. The guy on the phone, the best man, sounded nice enough. A real gentle sort of wuss," Derek paused to laugh, a hearty laugh that made my skin crawl, "Are you thinking of joining this lifestyle again Mattie?"

"I just need some money, to pay off debts," I momentarily stopped because I was revealing far too much about myself, "How much would I get?"

"These guys are paying a lot, mainly cause they want the best. So around £500. That good?" It wasn't anywhere near as much as I needed but I nodded weakly, knowing it was a start.

"Let's get you something to wear then," I could hear a slight awkwardness in his voice which threw me off guard slightly, and for a brief second I saw his facade slip.

Oxford Street was as busy as ever and I reminded myself why I tended to avoid it at all costs. There were so many people, most of whom were constantly stopping to take photographs or pause outside shops to check their maps. Derek muttered curse words under his breath until we reached the Anne Summers and went inside.

"Find something sexy," he whispered in my ear before going to find a spot where he could sit down.

My fingers brushed against the silk underwear and I couldn't remember the last time I had bought anything remotely sexy. There had been no guys since Harry or Derek, it had just been work. And survive.

Finally settling on a matching set of baby blue, silk bra and panties, I walked back to find Derek who gave me another stomach-churning grin. Nodding in approval at my choice, he told me where to go and at what time. The location was close to my apartment, except it was in the nice area. A fancy, well-renowned hotel.

"Oh and they want you to come wearing that," he pointed at the new purchase, "and this only."

He handed me a black trench coat and left the shop without even saying goodbye, knowing we would be speaking very shortly.

The whole way home I felt uneasy, as if I was going to do something that was so immoral and bad. It was going back to the thing which had made me run away, it meant facing past demons.

But I needed to do it. I had to.

Oh no! What's going to happen to Matilda now?? Stupid Derek (I really hate this guy)

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