Mattress Actress

I asked him to tell Paul: ‘The girl in the midriff top at the front of the stage has a keyboard in her pants and he could tickle her ivories any time.’


Next thing, Paul came from the back of the stage and was standing about ten feet away from me. He was surrounded by girls and I knew that if I didn’t make a move I would lose him. So I went right up to him.

‘I bet you have been dying to meet me all night,’ I said.

‘You’re really funny . . . what are you doing later?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Would you like to come out for dinner?’ he asked.

‘Yeah, I was supposed to go to dinner with you guys tonight,’ I said. ‘And Norm from Gala Records.’

He looked at me a bit sceptically. ‘Why don’t you pack up your gear and come to the Gold Coast with us tonight?’ he said.

I didn’t need to be asked twice! He took me back to my house in a limousine. I grabbed my clothes. During the three-hour trip, I read him all my poetry. He seemed to like me and must have seen something a bit deeper than simply tits and arse, because even though I stayed in his hotel room, he didn’t have sex with me that night.

All of the band were already humming tunes to my verses, saying, ‘That’s a hit record, Annika.’ I was very excited at the thought that people would hear and appreciate my words, my sentiments and relate to my perspectives. Little did I know that these were cloud conversations. We went to breakfast the next morning and Norm from Gala met us at the table—I recognised him by his heavy English accent. When I was introduced he looked at me and realised I was the girl who was supposed to meet him the previous night. He was surprised I was there but didn’t ask any questions.

Later we boarded a yacht and sailed out to an island; the band jammed and I danced on the beach. Paul suggested that they use me in their next film clip.

I returned to the Sunshine Coast after four days on an emotional high—my career was going to take off!





Pre-Fitzgerald Inquiry Jitters





Ellen read me the riot act for not turning up for my shifts but she wasn’t really angry with me. What I didn’t know was that the police had been hassling her and she was venting some of her frustration. The following day she called me to apologise, but she also had bad news: she wanted to cut down on my shifts because of my age. She was still under the impression that I was seventeen but you couldn’t sell sex until you were eighteen.

‘You can’t do this, please, I need the money,’ I pleaded.

‘I’ll give you shifts at another house, but not here, the police are all over us like the plague. You’re a hot potato right now, babe, I can’t afford to know you. Nothing personal.’

There was another girl who had been put up in a private house and didn’t want to work all day, every day, so Ellen let me work under her name, which was Joy. Guys would ring up asking for Joy and I would be her. Apparently the cops now knew about a young girl working by the name of Summer and so I couldn’t advertise under this name.

One night, Ellen and Peg invited me to their home for a chat; they said they’d found a way for me to work legally and earn twice as much. Of course that spiked my interest, but for some reason my gut was churning.

Their home was as seedy as their business. It was decked out in mirrored tiles, red carpet and crimson velvet wallpaper. We sat facing one another on black vinyl couches. They were being uncharacteristically friendly. After much ado, they got onto the subject at hand. One of my Asian clients was looking to take four or five young attractive blonde girls to Hong Kong for work. I would be guaranteed to earn at least $2500 a week. I may have only been sixteen but I was by no means stupid. I needed to turn this offer down without inciting their wrath. The solution hit me like a bolt of lightning.

‘I don’t have a passport!’ I exclaimed.

‘That’s not a problem; we can get you one within two weeks,’ Peg countered.

I squirmed. ‘But I would still need my mother’s consent.’

I could see their anger rising by their reddening cheeks and I knew they were trying to stay calm.

Peg’s eyed narrowed. ‘Why do I get the feeling you don’t want to get a passport? Is it because you’re not really seventeen?’

‘All I’ve ever wanted was to be an actress or a dancer and it’s finally starting to happen for me, I can’t leave the country now.’

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