This particularly confused Buttercup who had no sense of distinction between sex with a man or sex with a woman, and thought watching anyone else having sex, in whatever combination, was at best boring and at worst frustrating. Sometimes they were driven a distance from the lamp-post or wall they’d been picked up from. Usually they were driven back after the men’s business was done, but not always, which was difficult for the two girls in finding their way back in a country that was still mostly alien to them. These were the only times that Tracey saw more of the male world of Gomorrah than just the edges of it where women were permitted to wander. The male world she could see through the car windows was very similar to the world Tracey came from. In fact, depressingly similar as they more resembled the run-down estates, unexciting shopping precincts and shoddy high streets of the parts of her world back home where she actually lived and socialised. None of it seemed to have any of. Overhead the sky had become overcast, a blanket of grey clouds covering the afternoon sunlight. The green trees around the road grew dark, more grey. Bonnie noticed that it had been a while since they had passed any cars on the road in either direction. “Here,” Donovan said, tapping a knuckle against the passenger window. Bonnie frowned and pulled over. “Here?” She noted a dip on the side that led down to a dirt road. Donovan got out of the car and walked down the road, stopping at a low, fenced gate. Beyond it, the road led right into the woods. Without hesitating, he lifted a latch and pushed the gate open. Then he turned around and looked back at Bonnie, waiting. Bonnie shook her head slightly. Yeah, no. This is stupid, she thought. Donovan remained beside the gate, waiting passively. Again, she gave her head a visible shake, resisting his magnetic gaze. He remained unfazed and, after a moment, he slowly walked to the gate and began to close it. In that instant, Bonnie.
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