Chapter 5

Since all the films were shot in the evening, I had time on my hands during the day, and decided that I should do something to fill in the time and also to qualify for another job and earn money in case the film acting came to an abrupt end. I had my plan for the future, but supposing it didn’t work out?

One day, I had cause to visit Agnes at the solicitors’ office where she worked as a typist, and it struck me that I could do worse than become a typist. It was clean work in congenial surroundings and there were around half a dozen young women there, so it was a safe place to work. Of course, I couldn’t type, so the next thing I did was enroll in a typing school. I learned about ‘touch-typing’, which involves using four fingers of each hand to type letters without looking at the keys, while the thumbs press the spacebar.

To my surprise and delight I seemed to have an aptitude for typing. Agnes had an old typewriter at home which she had bought when she did her lessons, so any evening when I was not otherwise engaged, I practiced typing for an hour or more. It did not take too long before I was typing around twenty words a minute, and I gradually worked my way upwards. Agnes had told me that a professional typist needs to have a speed of at least fifty words a minute with more than 90% accuracy, and that despite having a certificate from the typing school, any business where I applied for a job would expect me to pass a test so that they could confirm my speed.

After about four months, I had reached fifty words a minute, and this was on the old manual typewriters which were much slower than the later electric ones since the keys had to be depressed further. As it happened, there was a part-time vacancy at the solicitors’ where Agnes worked and she encouraged me to apply. It would indeed be useful to work at the same place, so I agreed, and I passed my test at a speed of sixty words a minute. I started work the following week and found it every interesting. The salary was not huge but it was a regular income. I could even truthfully tell Mammy what I was doing to earn money, well at least part of it!

I should mention that I had kept up my weekly correspondence with Mammy, together with the postal order, and she occasionally wrote back keeping me up to date with the family's doings. I wondered if Daddy would ever soften his stance and allow me to visit, but it seems he was adamant that I was 'persona non grata', although I doubted if he had ever heard the expression.

Life continued in this way for nearly a year. By now I had saved quite a lot of money and I was buying myself some expensive and pretty lingerie and dresses, all with my future career in mind. I was also studying to make up for my lack of schooling, improving my vocabulary and general knowledge, which was also helped by my ‘day job’. Indeed it was this quest for knowledge that led me to the next stage of my career.

One day, while in the dressing room preparing for another erotic film, I heard two of the other girls chatting and one said to the other "I’m fed up with this, I’d like to join the Agency and make some real money”. She said it in a way which made it sound like ‘Agency’ with a capital ‘A’.

The other girl laughed and said “You’re pretty, Sinead, but I couldn’t see you making it. They only take the very best girls. I’ll tell you someone who could make it,” and she leaned over and whispered in the other girl’s ear. They both giggled and I saw them glance at me. I pretended not to notice.

I realized that this ‘Agency’ was what I was looking for. I still remembered from time to time what my Daddy had called me that terrible time when I was forced from home; namely a 'whore'. He was wrong then, but from that time I was thinking that it would be a great income for a few years – not a streetwalking whore of course, but a high-class companion who only saw the richest of men and was paid accordingly. Yes, I would like that; I had the face and figure and I enjoyed sex. I couldn’t set up on my own, I needed something like this ‘Agency’ where I could be paired up with rich clients. The problem was how did I get in touch with the ‘Agency’? Undoubtedly it would be a very discrete organization, and not listed anywhere, so how was I to find it? I needed to find somebody who knew about it, but who? I thought that Mr Matthews might know, but I could hardly approach him and say that I was thinking of leaving Ace Films. I worried about it but couldn’t find an answer. The suddenly I had the most amazing stroke of luck.

One of the things I did to improve my general knowledge and make me more interesting as a companion, was to attend lectures, and one Friday evening, there was an illustrated talk in the Dublin Library about Impressionist painters. As usual, I dressed up to attend it. I always like to look ‘a million dollars’ as the saying goes. While I was listening to the lecture, I happened to notice out of the corner of my eye, a very handsome man in his early forties sitting some seats along in the same row who was glancing at me. I pretended not to notice. I had taken to wearing a wedding ring to discourage unwanted male attention, but something made me slip it off and put it in my handbag.

There were two speakers and a break for tea and biscuits in between. As I was pouring my cup of tea I was not surprised when the handsome stranger appeared alongside me.

“Are you enjoying the lecture?” he asked. “By the way, my name is Max, and you are?”

“Marie, and yes I’m enjoying it very much,” I replied, and I was. “I find the Impressionists incredibly interesting.”

“I’m staying in Dublin for a couple of days and I have a very interesting book about the Impressionists in my hotel room. I don’t suppose you’d care to see it?” he asked.

‘My, you are a fast worker,’ I thought.

“I’d be very interested to see it,” I replied.

Then the bell rang, and we returned for the second part of the lecture, this time sitting side by side, but Max was smart enough not to make any further moves. After the presentation concluded, we left the library and walked the short distance to Max’s hotel, which turned out to be one of the most expensive in Dublin. He had already told me that he was a businessman and visiting Dublin for a couple of days to attend a business meeting.

I stood back while he obtained his room key from the desk. Most hotels, and especially the more exclusive ones take the attitude that who visits their guests in their rooms is their own business. When we arrived in his room on the fourth floor, I walked over to the window to view the lights of the city. It did not surprise me in the least when Max came up behind me and put his arms around my waist and began to nuzzle my neck. It felt good. I turned around and we began to kiss, our mouths opening and tongues curling around each other’s. Our bodies were pressed together, and I could feel his excitement growing. I pressed my thighs against his to let him know I was enjoying the sensation. He groaned softly.

“Do you have a condom and lubricant?” I asked and was pleased when he nodded. I had my own supply in my handbag of course, but it looks better if a man supplies the necessary items. He took my hand and led me into the bedroom which was lit by a soft bedside lamp. By its light we slowly undressed each other. His eyes widened when he saw my silk lingerie.

“My! You are beautiful,” he said. He was now fully naked, completely erect and big. I sat on the bed in my knickers and stockings and beckoned for him to come closer. He had a condom and a pot of lubricant in his hand and put them on the bedside table as I took him in my hand and began to massage him. Then I leaned forward and kissed the tip of his penis. He closed his eyes and moaned with pleasure. I was too practiced to permit him reach a climax, but at the right moment, I took the condom and expertly rolled it down over his erection, and followed it by some lubricant, although it was hardly needed since I was so ready to receive him.

I lay back on the bed and as he knelt between my legs, I raised my thighs off the bed so that he could remove my knickers. Then he was sliding inside me and it was now my turn to moan with pleasure at the feeling of him filling me. He was as experienced as I was and we enjoyed our mutual sensations as our excitement gradually rose. Eventually, his body shook as he reached a climax with me following almost immediately.

As we lay together on the bed, our breathing and heart beats gradually returning to normal, Max said “You are amazing. Are you sure you don’t do this for a living?”

I smiled. “I knew you would be good from the moment I saw you and I was not disappointed. As for doing this for a living, I will be frank with you. I would be if I could contact a business called ‘The Agency’ which I’m sure would put me in touch with other gentlemen who would appreciate my talents.”

Max started to laugh. “I can scarcely believe this. I normally book a young lady companion from The Agency when I come to Dublin for business trips, but this visit was at short notice, and when I rang them, there were no young ladies available. I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw you, not that I expected to necessarily find myself in the current situation. If you would like to contact them, I can put you in touch with the organizer, Mrs O’Toole, and what is more, give you a very good recommendation.”

“I would appreciate that very much, Max.” I replied, and turning on my side I began to fondle his member, encouraging it to come to life again. He reached across and fondled one of my breasts and the nipple immediately responded to his touch. It became so hard and tender that I gasped at his touch. It was not long before we were locked together once more and enjoying long slow love-making this time.

Eventually, I slipped out of bed and began to dress.

“That was wonderful, Max,” I said. “I hope all the gentlemen who use The Agency are as good.”

“That reminds me,” he said, and slipping out of bed, he went to his wallet and produced fifty pounds.

“No Max, I really can’t take it,” I said. “There was no financial arrangement made before we went to bed.”

“I know that,” he said. “But if I had booked you through the Agency it would have cost me much more. Please take it.”

A girl can’t afford to be too sanctimonious, so I took the money. After all, my intention was to be a high class whore wasn’t it? By the way, I never did get to see that book on the Impressionists that he claimed to have in his room!

I waited until Tuesday before ringing the number Max had given me to get in touch with The Agency. I wanted to give him time to contact them and give me a good reference.

I rang the number on Tuesday afternoon and a voice which suggested a middle-aged woman said “Can I help you?”

“My name is Marie Maguire and I would like to make an appointment to see Mrs O’Toole,” I said.

The response was not what I expected. “Who gave you this number?” was the rather abrupt reaction.

“It was a gentleman called Max, I don’t know his last name. He said he would ring and give me a good reference,” I said, rather put out.

“One moment.” I waited for about two minutes, but it seemed ages until she came back on the line. “Come to see Mrs O’Toole eleven o’clock Thursday morning. Don’t be late.” She gave me the address, and with that I heard the click of the call being disconnected.

I suspected that it was Mrs O’Toole herself who answered the phone, but why was she so abrupt? Was she annoyed that Max had given me the Agency’s number? Was she worried that I was from the Garda trying to catch her out? Well, I would have to wait until Thursday, and I would not be late in case they refused to open the door to me.

Thursday seemed to take forever to come. I had arranged to have the morning off from work, claiming I had a doctor’s appointment. I hated lying but I could hardly say what I was really doing. I told Agnes that I had an appointment to attend but not what it was. The previous day I had selected what to wear, white silk underwear, not that I expected it to be seen but it made me feel good, and my prettiest day dress. I rose early, bathed in mildly scented water, then set about dressing. I paid great attention to my makeup and hair and when I was ready, I checked how I looked in the full-length mirror. “Not bad for a farm girl from Kilcarnie’, I said to myself. ‘If that isn’t good enough for Mrs O’Toole, I don’t know what would be.’

I took a Taximeter cab to the address that I had been given, arriving ten minutes early. I paid to wait in the cab until five minutes to the hour and then walked up to the steps of what appeared more like a mansion than a house, and rang the doorbell. The door was opened by a maid in a black skirt and crisp white apron. I gave my name and was ushered into the house, down a long wide corridor and into a beautifully furnished drawing room.

A woman in her fifties and dressed in an elegant but somewhat old-fashioned way, rose from a chair, her glance sweeping me from head to toe, and said “Miss Maguire I presume, and on time too.”

I smiled. “I heard a saying ‘punctuality is the politeness of princes’, Well, I’m not a prince, nor a princess for that matter, but I do agree with the sentiment.” That raised a smile on Mrs O’Toole’s face. We were off to a good start.

“Please take a seat Miss Maguire. Now how can I help you?”

“I am interested in joining an organization known as ‘The Agency’, and last Friday I met a man called Max who gave me your number and said you might be able to help me,” I said. “He also promised to call you and give me a good reference.”

“Perhaps you would like to tell me a little about yourself?” she said.

“Certainly,” I replied, and gave her a brief resume of how I came to be living in Dublin with my cousin Agnes and also working at Ace Studios making ‘exotic films’. I then described how I had heard of ‘The Agency’ and thought that I might be qualified to join it but did not know how to contact the organization until I met Max at the lecture and he was able to give me the contact details.

“Max seems to have been very impressed with you,” said Mrs O’Toole. “I take it that you have ample experience of intimacy with men during your time at the film studios?”

“And with women too,” I said and Mrs O’Toole raised her eyebrows slightly.

“That could be of value,” she said. “We do not have much call for our young ladies to have intimate contact with women clients, but there is the occasional enquiry and I have not been able to provide such a service to date. I am prepared to give you a three-month trial and if I obtain positive feedback from our clients, then the position can become permanent. Are there any questions you would like to ask?”

I drew a deep breath. “Owing to my past experience, it is non-negotiable for me that men who require intimate contact wear a protective prophylactic.”

“And what would you say if I told you that we do not have that rule?” asked Mrs O’Toole.

“Then I would thank you for seeing me and apologise for wasting your time,” I replied as my heart thudded uncomfortably.

Mrs O’Toole smiled. “I like a young woman who has the courage of her convictions,” she said. “We do in fact have that regulation, and it is non-negotiable.”

I had to stop myself from sighing with relief.

“With us you can expect at least one booking per week, sometimes more. No doubt you would like to know what sort of remuneration you can expect. Every booking has a fee of £30 to cover administration costs, but the minimum charge is £80 for four hours and £20 per hour thereafter, so you can always expect to earn a minimum of £50. The charge is paid to me and then I pay you. In addition, some of our clients will give you a gratuity if they are particularly pleased with your company, and this money is yours to keep.”

I tried my best to not let my feelings show as she outlined these amounts. I had guessed that the income might be quite high, but this was beyond my wildest dreams.

“There is one important condition I must point out; our clients are all wealthy businessmen, or leaders in such fields as politics, the Garda, armed forces or even the Church. They demand absolute confidentiality and that is what we guarantee. Any failure to provide this would lead to instant dismissal. It might also be bad for your health.”

“I understand,” I replied, suppressing a shiver.

“Very well,” she said. “Well I can see you are well dressed; do you mind just taking off your dress for a moment?”

I was a little surprised at her request but I did as she asked. When I stood there in my silk slip with the French lace trim, sheer stockings and high heels, she said “Very nice, I can see you dress well. Would you mind slowly turning around?”

Again I complied; after all, working in Ace Studios I was quite used to being undressed in the company of others, both men and women.

“Yes, my dear, if you dress like that for our clients, I’m sure they will be very pleased.”

I put on my dress again. “I will contact you with your first booking in the next few days. Do you have a telephone or will you phone here on a daily basis to see if there is a booking for you?”

“Yes, we now have a telephone at the flat, or my cousin can relay a message for me, unless you think it is better not to involve anyone else?”

“I think we will telephone you, but if you don’t hear from me in the next few days, then by all means telephone me,” she said, and stood up. The interview was at an end.

That evening at home, Agnes said “You look very pleased with yourself.”

“I have a new job,” I replied “But it is so discrete that I can’t tell you anything about it.”

The fact was that although Agnes was a sweet girl and I loved her dearly, I also knew that she was a terrible gossip and just couldn’t keep a secret.

She pulled a face. “Can’t you give me a hint?”

“I’m sorry, not even a hint,” I replied.

To be continued