The Escort and her Driver

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The Escort and her Driver

“Where to tonight, Emma?” asked Daniel, the driver.

“Number three, please, Daniel,” asked the raven-haired woman in the white fur coat who had just got into his car.

“Number three it is. Buckle up, please?”

She smiled back at him. They went through this little game every night that she was working.

He looked at her in the rear-view mirror as she slowly pulled out her seatbelt and clipped it home.

“Thank you. It should be about ten minutes because of the closure of the Hyde Park Corner underpass, but there is always more traffic with Christmas just a week away.

“That’s great, Daniel. I am a bit early. We just made it last Friday with all the shoppers on Regent Street.”

He engaged drive, and his electric car silently pulled away from the pickup point in Chelsea.

Daniel was a former ‘Black Cab’ driver who had fallen into ferrying Emma to her ‘engagements’ up to five nights a week. It was better money and for less than a tenth of the work. Thanks to a decent lottery win, he’d traded in his old but reliable cab for a Mercedes EQC. It was far more comfortable than the old cab, and being electric, he didn’t have to pay the London Low Emission Zone charge, just the equally hated Congestion Charge. That was small fry compared to the several hundred quid that he would earn each night.

Almost three years before, Emma had hailed his cab after an engagement went badly wrong. She was very shaken and had been on the wrong end of more than a few blows. Her nose was bleeding profusely and looked like it was broken. He took her to the nearest hospital and remained there until she’d been treated and discharged. He decided the moment that she had gotten into his cab that she was never going to be ‘on the meter’ when riding with him.

As her way of saying thanks, she’d arranged to hire him to take her to and from her engagements. He knew right away that she was a high-class and, therefore, expensive call girl, but it didn’t matter. It was clear to him that she was a good woman just trying to make a living. He knew all about the dangers of the city, and for a working girl, they were doubled, if not tripled.

He proposed an arrangement whereby he was to be the only way that she would get to and from her engagements. In return, she would pay him directly for his time at a rate that was similar to what it would have cost her to hire a chauffeur-driven car. They had a code for all the most frequented destinations. For example, No. 3 was Claridge’s.

Daniel pulled up in front of the hotel and, immediately put on his chauffeur cap and exited the vehicle. The staff at the hotel saw this and didn’t interrupt him. He walked around to the nearside of the EQC and opened the door for Emma.

She, in turn, played her part and exited the car perfectly. Knees together and swing them out. She stood up and walked two steps, and stopped. That was the signal for Daniel to retrieve her custom-made shoulder bag from inside the car. After handing it to her, she walked inside the hotel without even giving the staff a second glance. This was all part of the act. An act that was designed to give any onlookers the impression that she was a resident of the hotel or, at the very least, a prestigious guest.

Inside the lobby, Emma walked over to the lifts and took the next one to the fourth floor. Meanwhile, Daniel closed the doors and drove away. He’d park up near Waterloo Station until she called him to say that her work was done.

Everything seemed to be going fine until, an hour and a half into his wait, his phone received a text. It consisted of 5 numbers, ‘85’. Daniel saw them, and a shiver went through his body. 85 was a short code for HE or HELP! ‘H’ is the 8th letter of the alphabet, and ‘E’ is the 5th. Emma was in trouble. The last three numbers told him the room that she was in, room 308.

Daniel wasted no time and headed back to the Hotel. He parked close but not directly outside the front of the building. There was a risk that he’d get a ticket, so he hoped that his London Taxi Driver license would keep the wolves at bay until he found out what the problem with Emma was.

Daniel put on his cap once again and walked into the hotel with what he hoped was an air of confidence. No one stopped him as he approached the lifts. Like Emma, he took the lift up to the 4th floor. Once there, he took the stairs down one floor and looked for room 308.

He knocked on the door and found that it was open. He thanked Emma for insisting that he always wore gloves when taking her to her engagements. Gently, he pushed it open. He saw Emma sitting on the edge of the bed. A bloody towel was trying to stop a nosebleed. He saw an injury that would more than likely turn into a big and ugly black eye.

She waved at him as he walked into the room. After a quick check, he determined that the ‘client’ was nowhere to be seen. Lying on the floor was her white fur coat. It was covered in blood. Her blood.

Daniel swore under his breath as he walked into the bathroom and took one of the expensive robes from a hook on the inside of the door. He put it around her shoulders and returned to the bathroom. Inside, he took a flannel, soaked it in cold water and gave it to Emma.

She muttered a word that sounded like ‘thanks’. It was only then that he saw her badly cut lip. The stupid client had done a number on her.

Daniel sat next to Emma and put an arm around her. She stiffened for a moment and then relaxed. She knew that he was not a threat to her, but her emotional state was such that all men were possible assailants.

“I think that the bleeding has stopped,” said a very nasal Emma some minutes later.

“Let me have a look at your nose.”

She shook her head.
“I know that it is broken.”

“Then we get you some medical treatment.”

“If we go to A&E, they’ll call the police. I don’t want them involved.”

“Then tell them to fuck off. Where’s your bag?”

“Over there,” she said, pointing to a bedside cabinet.”

“Is your ID in there?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Leave it to me. Tonight, your name is Dianne Speed. I have a driving license with that name on it. We can say that you were mugged and your purse snatched. Only your license was left behind, but we don’t let on about that.”

“Why? Why are you doing this for me?”

“Because, my dear, you are a dear friend, and friends look after each other, don’t they?”

“How will we get out of the Hotel?”

“The back way. I’m parked around the corner.”

Put this dressing gown on, and I’ll take your coat and bag.

“My shoes?”

Daniel looked around and found her shoes under the TV stand. He put them on her quite dainty feet.

Then he helped her to her feet. She was more than a little unsteady on those heels.

“Can you manage the stairs in those heels?”

“I’m going to have to. There does not seem to be any alternative.”

“Ok, let’s go.”

Gingerly, the pair left the room. Daniel made sure that the room was locked behind them before leading Emma towards the stairs. As they reached each landing, Daniel checked on Emma’s welfare. So far, she was managing.

Luck was with them, and they were able to exit the now-closed kitchen. The cool air of the night was a welcome sign that they were close to the car.

With Emma strapped in, Daniel looked at her.
“Which Hospital do you want me to go to?”

“University College Hospital. I can say that I was mugged near Goodge Street.”

Daniel smiled. Emma was starting to think for herself again.

“I’m going to take all your ID and wallet. Then I’ll bury the other license in the bottom.”

Emma just grunted.

“What’s this?” asked Daniel as he picked a small box out of the bag.

“That’s my insurance. It is a video camera.”

“I’ll keep it safe.”

It was then he saw the small hole in the side of the bag. That caused him to smile.

He put her purse and camera in the small backpack that he carried with him on jobs like this. It contained a flask of tea and some biscuits. The ones for that night remained unused.

“Right, M’Lady, UCH it is.”

His joke failed to get a smile from Emma.

Dawn was several hours in the past when Emma was finally discharged from the A&E department. Most of that delay was down to walking wounded from Christmas parties jamming up the A&E waiting area.

Her firmness about not wanting the Police to be involved seemed to have worked. The records showed that Ms Dianne Speed, who lived at an address in Bedford, had been mugged and had given a simple statement to the unformed PC who turned up. All she would say was that she’d been mugged as she waited to use an ATM.

Emma’s nose was broken and had been reset. A large dressing covered her nose and both cheeks. Her split lip had been repaired with two butterfly plasters.

“Here we are,” he said as they walked up to his car.
“Your chariot awaits M’Lady.”

His attempt at levity fell flat on its face. At least he’d tried.

He opened the door to the rear of the car and then helped Emma get inside. He could tell that it was taking a lot of effort on her part, so he strapped her into her seatbelt and closed the door.

Once in the driver’s seat, he turned to Emma. She was sitting with her eyes closed.

“Emma, do you have someone who can look after you at home?”

Without opening her eyes, she shook her head.

“That’s settled then. You are coming home with me. I have more than enough room. I have two spare bedrooms for you to choose from.”

She didn’t react other than to screw her eyes shut even more.

He drove them to his home in Maidenhead. It wasn’t much, but it was his. He’d been born in the front bedroom almost thirty years before and had bought it from his parents when they emigrated to Australia to be near his two sisters. That was almost a year before he met Emma.

As he turned onto the M4 at Chiswick, he tried to remember how messy the place was. For some reason, he could not picture the kitchen. Maybe it was because of being tired, or perhaps it was that he was worried about Emma.

He would worry about her safety every time he took her to one of her ‘engagements’. Those fears had finally come true.

“Here we are,” he said quietly as he pulled up in his driveway.

Emma didn’t answer. She was staring straight ahead.

He gently eased her out of the car and into the house.

“I’m going to get a bed ready for you. Then you can try to get some sleep.”

“Can… can I have something to drink?” she said in a voice barely above a whisper.

“What do you fancy?”

After a slight hesitation, she said,
“Some hot chocolate if you have some?”

“I do. Let me get a bed ready for you, and while you are getting ready, I’ll make the chocolate.”

For the first time in hours, she said,
“Thank you. You… “

The words just didn’t come.
“I did what was needed, and I am your friend, so I’ll hear no more of it, understand?”

She tried to smile, but he could see that it hurt her, so he didn’t linger. He headed up the stairs and into the very bedroom he had been born.

It didn’t take long for him to get a bed ready, but Emma had not moved an inch from where he’d left her.
“It is all ready for you. There is a towel on the bed.”

“Do you have something like a T-shirt to wear in bed?”

He smiled back at his guest.

“All taken care of.”
He smiled.

“Now, get yourself upstairs. Your room is the one with the open door. The bathroom and toilet are at the top of the stairs. I’ll be up in a few minutes with the chocolate.”

Her room was silent when he crept up the stairs with the mug of chocolate. He wasn’t surprised to find Emma lying on the top of the bed, fast asleep.

He went into his bedroom and returned with a duvet and spread it over her beautiful but damaged body. For the first time since they’d gone into business together, he felt sorry for her. Despite all the risks with her ‘profession’, she was a nice person.

Then, he mentally gave himself a beating. His feelings for her were more than just a business relationship. They were way beyond that of employer/employee.

He left her to sleep and gently closed the door behind her.

Daniel yawned as he descended the stairs. He needed some sleep but was fearful that his snoring would disturb her, so he returned upstairs and took a couple of blankets from a cupboard before returning downstairs and hoping that the couch would not give him a stiff neck.

Daniel was wrong about the couch. He woke up in the middle of the afternoon with a stiff neck. While he gave it a rub, he listened out for any movement upstairs. Everything seemed quiet. Still slightly bleary-eyed, he went into the kitchen and as quietly as possible, he got the coffee percolator going. While that was getting going, he washed his face. He desperately needed a shave and a shower, but they’d have to wait. Emma was his top priority from now on until she decided that she didn’t need it any longer.

He took a look in the fridge and sighed. Today was the day that he would normally do his weekly shop. There were some things like Macaroni and Cheese and some Pasta dishes in the freezer, but not much else. He decided that there was enough for today but not much longer.

He poured himself a mug of black coffee. Black because the milk had gone sour. Beggars could not be choosers. There were still no signs of life from upstairs, and he needed to have a pee. The age of the house meant that there was just one bathroom/toilet.

He sat at the kitchen table, trying not to think about what had happened last night. His coffee remained untouched. After half an hour, his bladder could not wait any longer, so he crept upstairs and went into the toilet.

The trouble with having a pee is that sometimes you have to sit down and do some number 2s in the same visit. Today just happened to be one of those times. That meant giving the toilet a proper flush just when he was done. That, in turn, meant noise when he wanted to keep quiet.

As Daniel came out of the bathroom, he heard a voice, “Daniel”.

He gently opened the door to her bedroom only to find her sitting on the edge of the bed.
“Oh, you are awake then? I was trying not to make a lot of noise.”
“I needed to pee only to find that you beat me to it.”

“Sorry. It is free now. There is coffee on downstairs.”

“Do you have something that I can wear?”

Her question was one that he had been expecting. He’d had tossed and turned over this during the night. Eventually, he’d made a decision.

“There should be something in that wardrobe that you can wear.”

“Thank you. For everything.”

“Emma… I’ll be downstairs.”

As he walked down the stairs, Daniel cursed himself for chickening out like that. It was only temporary.

Nearly twenty minutes had elapsed before he heard Emma coming down the stairs.

“How do I look?” she asked as soon as she came into the kitchen.

“Physically? You look like you have gone five rounds with a heavyweight boxer. That eye is going to be a multi-colour landscape. Sorry, but that’s how I see it.”

“Don’t worry. That’s my assessment as well. What about what I’m wearing?”

She’d selected a summer dress from the wardrobe. She filled it perfectly.

“You look great. That colour suits you.”

She leaned over and kissed him gently on the forehead. He could tell that her lip was troubling her.

“Was this left by an old flame?”

That was it. He had to come clean.

He shook my head.
“I bought it for me, but my lack of tits always stopped me from wearing it.”

Emma looked surprised for a couple of seconds. Then she began to laugh. Daniel felt that she was laughing at him. He nearly headed for the exit, but then he remembered that he was at home.

After more than a minute, she calmed down.

“Sorry, Daniel. I should not have done that, so I apologise. What you said was a bit of a surprise, a very pleasant surprise.”

Daniel could not quite follow what she was saying.

“I take it that you are transgendered?”

He just nodded. He feared the worst and that she’d be heading for the door.

Emma reached over and took his hand. Then, with a smile, she said,
“So am I.”

Those three words answered the question, ‘Why had he decided to drive Emma?’ but they also changed his own life forever. It might turn out to be the best Christmas ever.

2024-11-27 06:36:56 -0400
Edited to remove competition heading.

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Comments

Lovely Story..

Lucy Perkins's picture

Thanks for this wonderful story about friendship and loyalty. I loved the fact that both Emma and Daniel were trans, and the prospect for both of them to have a "happy ever after". In my mind, at least, I see Emma finding a happier life, and a much less risky profession. I know that life seldom works like that, but at Christmas we can hope.
Lucy xx

"Lately it occurs to me..
what a long strange trip its been."

Thanks Lucy

For such a nice comment. It is much appreciated.

Samantha

Escort

BarbieLee's picture

Stage coach, security guard, so many other professions fall under the broad term of escort. For a female to practice the profession of escort, she is no safer than her own wit and instinct makes her. Sam's story is fiction, I hope but the reality is it happens in life. Emma came face to face with one of those who get their jollies beating the hell of a prostitute. After all who is she going to complain to? A deadly game of Russian Roulette would be a better choice.
Hugs Samantha, excellent pacing of the story line with a very captivating tale.
Barb
Life is a gift meant to be lived, not worn until it's worn out.

Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl

This story reminds me of an old movie……

D. Eden's picture

Starring Mel Gibson. The movie, “Payback”, stars Gibson as Porter - a thief who was double crossed by his partner and his wife. They shot him and left him for dead, taking all of the money which they stole from a Chinese gang. Porter survives and comes back to get his money back, which results in multiple deaths as he gets involved with crooked police, petty criminals, and “The Syndicate”.

The coincidence between the movie and this story lies in the fact that one of the characters in the movie is a high class call girl whom Porter had previously escorted, driving her to her appointments. They end up together at the end of the movie. There is no TG element to the movie, but it is a reasonably good action movie, although violent, and the acting is pretty good. As was this story!

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

Have You Ever Seen

joannebarbarella's picture

The true result of a beating on a woman's face? It's not like Hollywood. The swellings and bruising can only be described as ugly, let alone a broken nose and the inevitable black eye or eyes.

This is the risk that an escort, working girl, faces every day. The danger is even worse if she is transgendered.

I hope there is more to this story.

More? you want more?

ROFL...
Yes, there is plenty of scope for moving this story on. Emma could get her own back on the client who beat her up for starters.
Thanks for the lovely comment.
Samantha

Smashing!

Robertlouis's picture

What a lovely story, Sam. The affection between the two was so obvious from the outset, but remained unspoken to the very end. The discovery of their mutual secret was a bonus in a way, it merely cemented what was plain to the reader. Beautifully paced and sensitively written, and so much packed into so few words. Excellent. x

☠️

Emma may have

Wendy Jean's picture

Found a perfect girlfriend. Looking forward to more.

Thank...

tmf's picture

Thanks for the nice tale, even with it describing some unpleasantness.

Loving Hugs tmf

Peace, Love, Freedom, Happiness
Hope & Health