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announcement. It was shift change, he said, and he was now duty sergeant. He read out a list of names that included Bel and Jo, but not Nina.
    â€˜You eight are A-shift,’ he said. ‘You report to me. The rest of you are B-shift, reporting to Sergeant Quinn. A meal will shortly be served which A-shift should think of as breakfast, since their working day is just starting, and B-shift as supper, since theirs is just ending. Twelve hours from now the whole thing swaps round. Is everyone clear on the timetable?’
    â€˜Are you saying we only get two meals a day, sir?’ Nina asked.
    â€˜That’s all you can count on, certainly. Meals are served four times a day for the men, at shift changeover and mid-shift, but whether or not your clients decide to feed you mid-shift is entirely up to them. Meals will only be served in the mess here twice a day, at shift changeover, understood?’
    There were nods all round, albeit unhappy ones. Two meals a day sounded pretty dire.
    â€˜Okay; A-shift, listen up,’ Vaughan went on. ‘As I’ve just explained your day starts now. In one hour’s time I’ll deliver you to your clients, and ten hours after that I’ll collect you. You have precisely sixty minutes, therefore, in which to eat breakfast, take a shower, do whatever else you need to do, and assemble here ready to go. Make sure you are punctual. If anyone is late we’ll be having our first public flogging.’
    On that note of warning he dismissed them, and they all went through into the mess. Though the food wasn’t bad Jo found she had little appetite, but she made herself eat, knowing it could be her last for twelve hours. The meal was a subdued affair, particularly for the women on A-shift. Their first assignment was approaching and no one seemed interested in chit-chat. Afterwards they headed for the showers.
    â€˜You okay with what happens next?’ Bel asked as they were rinsing off.
    â€˜Sure,’ Jo said, forcing a smile. ‘You?’
    Bel just shrugged. Her face showed nothing, but Jo was used to that. They dried themselves under the blowers and dressed once more in their hospital gowns and slippers, then went into the dayroom to wait out the remaining time. A couple of the others played checkers – or pretended to – but most just sat staring at the floor. One of the younger women looked close to tears, and Nina sat with her, talking quietly. After a while the young woman smiled and nodded, and wiped her eyes.
    â€˜You’ll be fine, Cassie,’ Nina said, patting her arm. ‘Just fine.’
    Vaughan appeared, looking serious. He called out their names, and one by one they stood up. The eight women followed him out and he delivered them in turn to their designated locations. The first drops were all enlisted men’s cabins, and at each one Vaughan had a few words with the occupants before moving on. Bel was the fifth to be delivered, and a whoop went up from the men as she went in. With just three remaining, Vaughan led them up a stairway to another corridor. A tough-looking young woman was next to be handed over, and when Vaughan knocked it was an officer who answered the door.
    â€˜For what we’re about to receive…’ the woman muttered, winking at Jo as she went in.
    Cassie went next, looking very anxious; and last of all – and feeling pretty anxious herself – Jo. The cabin was roomier than she had expected, with a bed, small table, single chair, tall locker, and even a shower/toilet cubicle. As to her client, she’d drawn a captain.
    â€˜I’ll be back to collect her in ten hours’ time, sir,’ Vaughan said.
    â€˜Thank you, sergeant.’
    Vaughan nodded at Jo solemnly, which she took for a warning to behave herself, and left.
    â€˜What’s your name?’ the captain asked.
    â€˜O’Donnell, sir.’
    â€˜No, I mean your first name.’
    â€˜Josephine, sir. Jo,