And I huddle in front of that tiny little vent in the car which is the heater and I’m slowly recovering from being scared for my life and then Mum s...ys how I had so much fun doing that so she signed me up to do it every Saturday. And when I complain I get told off for being ungrateful and she’s doing all of this for my benefit and so on and so on. And I’m cold and wet and hungry and sore and miserable and my good jeans stink of horse so I yell at her that I fucking hate her. And that’s the. She had ended up in the body of one of the agents, probably dead onthat street in the midst of the gunfire, with nobody to mourn for her or tosay goodbye to her. At least my parents and family and friends had had thechance to say goodbye to me. It had been wrenching to see it, but at leastthey had some closure. Though the hooker hadn't been doing much with herlife, she must have had dreams and hopes. They may not have been muchdeeper than the optimistic fantasy in Pretty Woman, but they'd been. More

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