They leave the motorway and drive through an industrial area. Ruth thinks that she’s never seen a grimmer place: litter on the verges, empty buildings, abandoned cars. By the side of the road stand several young women in short skirts and high heels, their attempts at glamour all the more tragic because of the squalid setting. ‘What are those ladies selling?’ asks Kate. ‘Fruit,’ says Ruth, not wanting to introduce her daughter to the concept of women being forced to sell their bodies.
