'Like Patricia McCormick’s Sold, this novel gives headlines about sexual slavery a human face.' Booklist

‘Bell’s debut, Massive, was a powerful exploration of body dysmorphia and Dirty Work, published on the bicentenary of Parliament’s vote to abolish the salve trade is as timely as it is punchy.’ The Times

'Gritty . . . pitch perfect . . . provocative.' The Observer

‘Follows in an illustrious literary tradition of taking readers, through story, into the seedier side of a reality that cannot be ignored even if most people would rather avoid it’ The Guardian

Dirty Work is about Oksana and what happens to her when she leaves her home in Russia thinking she’s going to Italy to work as a waitress. And what happens to Hope, an English girl, when she finds a strange Russian stowed away in her camper van. Here’s the Prologue, anyway. Scroll down the page for a list of online resources: links, campaigns and information about human trafficking.

Dirty Work
© Julia Bell

Prologue: Oksana

“‘When I wake up, she is gone.’ That’s what I tell him, over and over. It’s the truth, even though I know, right now, he doesn’t believe me.
He stamps around the room, kicking the furniture and shouting. Don’t I know how much money he will lose? Don’t I know how much she’s worth? I shouldn’t have been sleeping! I should have been watching!
And by then he’s given himself enough reasons, and he punches me in the arm and then he slaps me across the face. Tomorrow we are supposed to be going to London. Zergei has made a good deal with his contacts. Ten thousand for two, delivery included. First class, he said, laughing, to the man on the phone.
We’ve only been in Amsterdam for a week, just so he can sort out some paperwork, and then we get the ferry to England. When we get there Zergei’s going to help me escape, that’s what he says, and we’re going to run away from ‘all this shit’ and start a new life some place. But ten thousand isn’t enough in any currency to run away with me and starta new life. The moment he gets that money in his hands, he’s going towalk away and fly to Rio where the girls hang out on the beaches in bikinis and you can get all the tits you want for free. I’m not stupid, I can see how life works.
Which is why, if Marie had found a way to run away, I wish she told me, because I would have gone with her too.
He comes back later, rushing up the steep stairs to the top of the house. He’s swearing and shouting my name, which is bad news.
‘We’ve got to go. Quick!’ He throws a bag at me. ‘Get your stuff.’
When I ask him why, he won’t look at me.
‘Did you find her?’
He nods.
‘Where is she?’
He takes his time, rubbing a heavy hand over his face. ‘She is dead, Oksana. In– in the canal.’”
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