Call the Midwife: A True Story of the East End in the 1950S

kindly brought her to see. She drank some more wine, and tried to keep her eyes open. She was not aware that shutters had been put up at the windows, the doors locked, and the lights dimmed.
     
    Quite suddenly the most deafening noise shattered her fuddled senses. She nearly fell off her chair in fright, and had to grip the edge of the table to keep herself upright. It was louder than anything she had ever heard in her life, louder even than the dock yard siren that had frightened her in Commercial Road. And it went on and on. It was a jukebox, and the noise was rhythm music.
     
    Zakir shouted: “The entertainment. Turn your chair and watch. It is the best in London.”
     
    All the men in the room had turned their chairs, and were silently facing a table in the centre.
     
    A girl leapt up on to the table and started dancing. The table was only about three foot wide, so she could not really dance for fear of falling off, but she moved her body, her hips, her shoulders, her arms and neck in rhythm with the music. Her hair flew about her. The men cheered. Then she threw off a shawl that was round her shoulders. The men cheered again and scrambled to get it. Slowly, suggestively, she undid the buttons of her blouse and threw it off, revealing a crimson bra. She undid the band which kept her skirt on, and it dropped to her feet. Beneath it, she wore only a crimson string that ran round her waist and between her legs. Her bottom was enormous. She turned to face the wall, shaking her bottom and thighs then bent over with her legs apart.
     
    Mary was stunned. All sleepiness had left her and she couldn’t believe her eyes. She couldn’t believe it was happening.
     
    Zakir flashed his beautiful teeth at her and shouted: “It is good, no? I told you we have the best entertainment in London.”
     
    The girl straightened up and turned to face her audience. She stared around her in an insolent fashion, and slowly began to undo the fastenings of her bra. The men cheered and screamed and stamped as two huge breasts fell out, with crimson tassels attached to each nipple. With a skill that must have taken much practice, she began to make her breasts gyrate faster and faster, and the tassels flew round and round with ever increasing speed. Mary’s eyes were hypnotised by these tassels. She was numb with amazement until gradually the gyrations slowed down, and the tassels drooped to the floor, swinging slightly. The girl undid the string around her waist, and threw it to the audience, who scrambled to get it.
     
    Now the serious part of her dance started. She shook and moved her pelvis slowly back and forwards. Her eyes were fixed on her audience, and her tongue was hanging out. She did this for quite a long time, sometimes moving her upper body as well, sometimes swinging her breasts from side to side. The jukebox was turned down a bit, so that just the beat of the drums was heard, and all the time her pelvis moved back and forwards to the rhythm.
     
    Mary was quite mesmerised. As suddenly as it had started, and with a scream, the girl stopped, and lay down on the table. There was not a lot of space, but she lay with her back and head on the table, and her legs high in the air, heels touching. The jukebox went up loud, louder, louder again, as she slowly opened her legs until they were almost horizontal, revealing her vast fleshy, hairy vulva. Then, with even more skill, and to the screams of delight from her audience, she started to produce ping-pong balls from her vagina, and throw them at the audience. The speed and the number were bewildering. There must be some magic in this, Mary thought, no woman can have so many ping-pong balls inside her. The balls were flying around the room, the men throwing them at each other, at the girls, at the walls, in a frenzy of excitement.
     
    The other girls had now left their table and joined the men, some sitting on their knees and fondling them or being fondled, some going out the back in pairs, some just sitting, smoking and drinking. Two older women came up to the girl lying on the table, and each took hold of a leg. Then they beckoned to the men. There was a rush towards her, but two thickset, middle-aged men wearing knuckledusters barred the way. They snarled at the advancing men, and said something. Mary could not hear what was said because of the noise of the jukebox, but several of the men turned and went back to their seats. Some remained standing, however, and Mary saw a