The phone rang and Marty answered it as usual. 'Hello, Marty speaking.'

'Marty?' Came the unmistakable voice of Vince Fontaine. Marty sighed in exasperation. 'Vince, leave me alone. I told you I need some space.'

'I want to see you Marty. We can work this out. Over dinner maybe?'

She weakened slightly. Marty could never resist expensive dinner with a gentleman. Especially if he was paying.

Rizzo looked over and enquired who it was. 'Vince' mouthed Marty. Rizzo rolled her eyes and went back to her magazine. That sap kept calling. He was slightly obsessed with Marty. Nothing to do with her brain and everything to do with her bosoms and legs.

'No Vince' she was saying now, fluffing up her hair. 'I told you I'm busy. I'm washing my hair tonight.'

'How about tomorrow night?'

'I'm busy with school work' she replied demurely. Beside her, Rizzo snorted and continued reading. The only school work Marty was interested in doing was checking out the new track runners on the pitch. Vince Fontaine wasn't as good looking at them, even if he did have money. Rizzo leaned forward and snatched the receiver from Marty.

'Look buddy, she's not interested. Beat it' she told Vince and then hung up. Marty stared at her, scandalised. 'I'm supposed to tell him that, not you!' Rizzo shrugged. 'You never would have gotten on with it.'

Marty thought it over and realised it was true.

'I suppose you're right.' She got on with filing her nails.

The next phone call came the next evening while Marty was putting on her face mask. She picked up the phone and there was Vince again. 'Hello my little angel' he smarmed. 'Been giving it some thought?'

Marty sighed. 'No Vince, I've not thought about it.'

'Why not?' He sounded scandalised. He wasn't used to girls not thinking about him.

'I just don't think it'll work out.' She hung up.

The phone rang the next evening. He was nothing but persistent.

'Hello Vince, I've not given it any thought yet' she said and hung up. Again.

'Be careful, he'll take that as a come on' warned Rizzo, sprawled over the bed upside down with another magazine.

'I won't spend the night with him for just anything' said Marty, wrinkling her nose delicately. 'A girl's got to have standards.'

'He's not looking for standards; he's looking for an easy lay.'

'Well he won't get it from me' sniffed Marty.

It was a week later when Vince made his next phone call. Marty stared at the phone with dislike. Vince Fontaine was getting to be a real bore. She signalled to Rizzo that he was back. 'I wish he'd just leave me alone.' Rizzo put a finger to her lips and picked up the phone.

'Hello, Millie's dirty laundry service' she purred. Marty looked horrified.

'Hello, is Marty there?' Vince asked, confused.

'I'm afraid she's busy at the moment. Would you like me to take a message?' Rizzo played with the telephone wire suggestively. There was a gleam of mischief in her eyes.

'Are you a friend of hers?'

'Of a sort. Would you like to order a service while you're here?'

'A service? What do you mean by that?' He sounded a trifle nervous. Rizzo smiled evilly.

'We offer a range of services that can be catered to...the more mature man.'

Marty squealed with mirth, Rizzo quickly hushed her.

'Er, what did you have in mind?' He asked tentatively.

'Well, there are the levels of filth to be considered' she told him. 'Level one it's just dirty conversation. Level two moves onto fantasies. And level three...well you have to pay extra for that.'

'And how much would that be?'

Marty gave a squeak of annoyance. Rizzo stifled a laugh.

'Well it depends on what you're willing to pay for. We have exclusive girls working here. They charge a lot for their service.'

She could almost hear the cogs whirling sluggishly in his brain as he thought it over.

'Well you think it over and give us a call' she added quickly, as Marty looked like she might burst with indignation.

'Wait! I'm thinking.'

'Time is money' she whispered over the phone.

'Well I'm thinking about the level three services. How dirty are we talking here?'

'Very.'

'Perfect. I'll take one of those.'

'Too late.' She slammed the phone back in the cradle and howled with laughter. Marty couldn't help but join in.

'That dirty old man!' Spluttered Rizzo. 'That'll teach him.'

They laughed until their sides ached. Marty turned to her friend with a smile. 'Well that's made up my mind about him. He won't be calling me again so soon.'

'Let's hope not. Otherwise Millie's laundry service might go bust and we can't have that, can we?' Rizzo raised an eyebrow.