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The platform was already packed with people and, as time passed, it gradually became worse.

Florence looked up at the indicator board, which confirmed that she would be waiting a whole five minutes for the next train. It was supposed to be such a good day and yet she was already starting to feel anxious.

When she had received the letter to confirm she got the job, she was so happy that she treated herself to a brand new coat as well as other additions to her wardrobe. A new job deserved new attire. Besides, winter was fast approaching and it was starting to get cold outside, so it could be deemed a practical purchase.

At that moment, when she was below ground with scores of other people, she was beginning to feel hot and the idea of starting her first day flustered was making her feel even worse.

Trying to make herself as small as possible, she clamped her arms to her sides, tightly gripping her handbag as more people gathered on the platform.

She was becoming so tense that she had to make a conscious effort to unclench her jaw, staring at the image on the grimy poster attached to the opposite wall. Even had she wanted to see how many more minutes she had to suffer, she would have been hindered by the number of people who surrounded her and did a good job of blocking her view of the indicator board.

The eerie quiet was only broken by the odd cough, sneeze or snippet of hushed conversation before the low rumble of an approaching tube train could finally be heard. The accompanying rush of air ruffled her hair and caused several strands of her sleek brown bob to blow across her face. Exhaling with exasperation, she quickly tried to smooth it back into place as she was swept along by the crowds around her, everyone surging towards the points where they expected the doors to be when the train stopped.

Despite the number of people around her, she was one of the first few passengers to board the carriage but still didn't get a seat and had to settle for shuffling along until she was standing next to another woman, standing as close as she could without invading her space in order to accommodate the many more people attempting to get on the carriage.

Staring into space, she waited for the doors to close, trying to calm the butterflies in her stomach, but a sudden loud voice dragged her away from her thoughts.

"Excuse me - lady in red - can you move down please?"

Certain that he couldn't be addressing her, she glanced around to see whether there was any other woman wearing red, but there was no other woman who could fit the description. Turning to face the direction of the authoritative voice, she saw that it belonged to a man who had forced his way onto the carriage despite there clearly being no room.

"There is no room for me to move down," she retorted, looking around to ascertain whether her enforced neighbour had moved.

She felt a strange sense of relief to find that her defensive stance was justified.

"I'm sure there's a little more room in there."

He craned his neck in an attempt to prove his assumption as the driver's mind the doors announcement blared distortedly over the speakers while she glared at him, daring him to say anything more. Forcing his way in, he remained silent as he concentrated on ducking his head in time to stop the edge of the closing door colliding with it.

Though she knew she was in the right, she still felt some embarrassment at the fact that she had drawn attention to herself because of one man's complete lack of courtesy. The idea of a good first day was dissipating with every second that passed. Feeling her face flush, she glanced over to find that the woman next to her gave her a sympathetic smile as the train lurched away.

Silently, she questioned her spontaneous decision to purchase such a conspicuous red coat. Though she had always liked the colour, she wasn't usually bold enough to pull off wearing it in such a significant manner.

Before the train had even reached the first stop, a strong compulsion made her glance in the direction of her new combatant, but found he wasn't looking in her direction, his eyes trained straight ahead.

Standing against a glass partition, his back was to her, oblivious to the daggers she was sending in his direction. Even from behind, he was a formidable looking man. From his height to his smooth brown skin, he had an image that demanded attention. In fact, had it not been for his rudeness, he was the type of man that she would normally be attracted to, but the fact that he clearly used his size to intimidate others put that thought out of her mind. It made her recall a dream which had been vivid enough to jolt her awake, hot and breathless. Her subconscious mind had conjured images of her having sex with a man just like him. At least, mostly like him. It had been a black man with the same build, but his face had been hazy, like watching a programme where people couldn't be identified.

She remembered the strength of his body, feeling the movement of the muscles of his back as their bodies moved in unison.

The memory of it alone caused a warmth to spread across her neck, enough to make her loosen her collar as she took another quick glance in his direction, finding he remained facing away from where she stood.

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"Jeanette…Jeanette, de bus comin'," my aunt called with an unnecessary sense of urgency.

I had heard the music playing but ignored it on the basis that music was always playing and anyway, I was busy getting ready. Taking another quick look at myself in the mirror, I wondered whether it was wise to wear shorts, but it was too late now. Besides, the shorts were quite long and baggy and served to cover my ample backside - known as 'The Bubble' - pretty well.

Despite the music blaring from the speakers, the driver still felt the need to announce his presence by beeping the horn, which didn't please Aunt Yvonne.

When I had called her to ask if I could come and stay, she made it seem like I was being ridiculous by even asking. She was happy to accommodate me on my whim.

In order to briefly escape from the rut that was my life, I'd decided to take a spontaneous holiday in my parents' native Grenada, determined to have as much fun as possible before returning to my life of work, bills, cold weather, useless men and general malaise. A life that was just too damn boring for words.

Once I'd made the decision to go away, there was no question that I would opt for anywhere other than The Isle of Spice. I'd been several times before, though not for a few years, and just felt comfortable. It was like coming home. Sometimes I liked to imagine what my life would have been like if I was born here, if I emigrated even, but alas, it was merely a pipe dream. I have a mortgage to concern myself with now.

Grabbing my rucksack, I hurried out of the bedroom in time to hear my aunt complaining about the apparent impertinent gesture.

"Wha' da damn man blowin' for?"

I could only smile, knowing that as cantankerous as she seemed, she was a lovely woman. She had organised this day out for me. Usually when I'm in Grenada my time is spent either visiting family and friends or lying on the beach. But when I told her that I wanted to enjoy myself and blow off some steam, she told me about a man she knew who might be able to help in that regard.

He worked at one of the hotels in St. Georges and organised the excursions for 'de rich people an' dem'. Although I wasn't staying at the hotel, he agreed to get the mini-bus to stop off and pick me up for a day of hiking in the mountains. Now I'm not the fittest person in the world, but even if I was, who in their right mind goes hiking in this heat? And that's coming from a sun worshipper!

But Aunt Yvonne was still enthusiastic on my behalf, saying it would be nice for me to see some parts of the island that I hadn't seen before. It was a good point, so I tried to put my apprehensions aside and enjoy it. Besides, I could probably do with getting in shape - my figure wasn't exactly attracting any fine specimens - and what better way to start than to go for a hike? With a quick hug and kiss, I said bye to my mum's sister before stepping out into the blazing sun. As I skipped down the few steps from the veranda, I felt rather strange wearing socks and hiking boots in this weather.

"Take care, you hear."

She stood on the veranda watching me leave, and I replied by giving her a quick wave as I approached the mini-bus. It looked full up and I don't know why, but I was surprised by how many white people were on board.

As he saw me approach, the driver got out and walked around to meet me, and he could only be described as a man mountain. He looked like no man I had ever seen before and though I could feel myself staring at him, I couldn't look away. The men I had met back at home always tended to be too weedy or laden with a beer belly. But this guy could only be described as a tall, dark, broad vision of loveliness.

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As steam gradually filled the room, Ben stuck his hand under the stream of water to test the temperature before getting in.

"Ben, hurry up and get out of the bathroom."

Even with the water running and the door closed, the voice of Andrew, his best friend and flatmate, easily carried to his ear. They had known each other for ten years, and Ben had gradually watched him become a metro sexual, spending an endless amount of time preening and posing. Of late, it had gotten worse.

"Piss off! I just got in here."

It had started after Ben introduced him to his boss, so he knew he only had himself to blame. As a jobbing actor, Ben had been finding it hard to make ends meet until he began working as a male escort. Now he found it easy and no longer had to worry about money. Once he'd decided to do it, he'd also decided he wasn't going to tell anyone except Andrew, whom he knew wouldn't judge him.

His assumption had been correct and Andrew hadn't judged him. However, he was incurably inquisitive and seemed unable to stop himself bombarding his friend with questions whenever he returned from a 'date'. Finally unable to take any more, Ben invited him to meet Jacqueline, the owner of the escort agency he worked for and, before he knew it, Andrew had given up his job as a bank clerk in order to become an escort as well. It had only been four months, but he had been impossible ever since, spending a ridiculous amount of time and money on his appearance and generally being really annoying.

For his part, Ben had been working as an escort for ten months and loved it. As he thrust his head under the jet of water, he thought back over the many events he had attended, restaurants he'd eaten at, plays and operas he'd seen, all on the arm of a woman who was paying for the privilege of his company. Before he'd started, he'd assumed the only women who would want an escort would be lacking in the looks department, but he was pleasantly surprised. Not that all of the women were good looking, and some were a few years older than he would normally go for, but he didn't let any of that faze him. He remained charming and attentive no matter the circumstances.

Ever the professional. That was probably one of the reasons he was so popular.