Oh, sister 2 . (Memoirs of Nancy Trollop i)

My name is Nancy Trollop

Go on and scoff

Someone tried that once and got a right good wallop

It just weren’t right

A name like that for a lady of the night

Just my luck

I don’t know why I ever gave a…

Oops, I almost said a naughty word

But you ’ave to admit the name is absurd

Obscene

Know what I mean?

None of the customers knew my name

But that’s men

All the bleedin’ same

Give you ’alf a crown

“Come on, love,” they’d say. “Get your knickers down.”

All they saw was a ride

It might ’ave been me job but I did ’ave me pride

Sixteen I was when I started on the street

I ’ad to do somethin’ if I wanted to eat

Me dad was the one that kicked me out

The drunken sod was always knockin’ me mum about

We ended up ’avin’ a row

When for once I tried to defend the silly cow

I saw it as an opportunity for us both to flee

But instead the pathetic cow chose ’im instead of me

I left with me ’ead ’eld ’igh

To deny them the satisfaction of seein’ me cry

But tears were abundant in the next few years

That that was mostly due to the loneliness and fears

Then one night I decided to go down to the dock

To see if I could find an eager…

There I go again

From vulgarity I must learn to refrain

Yeah, so there I was down at the dock

In a mucky little dive is where I met the Jock

Robert Brown

Or the Scottish variation bein’ Robert Broon

No matter

Them looks and charm would make any girl swoon

I sensed the atmosphere weren’t right that night

And a couple of lads in the corner were spoilin’ for a fight

I didn’t want to see ’im get ’urt

And nor did I fancy seein’ blood bein’ spurt

So when ’e told me that ’e needed a place to sleep

I said that ’e could stay at mine if ’e paid for ’is keep

I soon realised that I ‘ad a much needed friend

If a customer got out of ’and

The valiant Jock would be there to defend

We always ’ad money and it never ran low

Where ’e got ’is from I wouldn’t bloody know

But ask no questions and you’ll get no lies

Accept things as they are and never surmise

That was ’ow things went for a while

Until one day ’e got ’ome with a very broad smile

“Nancy, what ye need is a better class gent,” ‘e said to me. “It’ll mean we have tae move and pay a higher rent.”

That was the start

I was about to become a different kind of tart

My mentor was an Irish girl by the name of Siobhan

As soon as we met we really got on

“I’ll show ye a thing or two,” she told me. “My customers pay me to tell them what to do.”