"First of all", she says patiently, "They are not my girls. I am not their madame, and they are not under my care. They are all incredibly courageous, strong and resilient women I am honoured to work with and have as friends. We have a centre further down, I cannot say where because of privileged access."
"Privileged how?" says Carl.
"They need a place here they can feel safe, from bad dates and pimps especially, as well as unhinged boyfriends. Which is why I arranged that we meet here in this coffee shop."
"To protect your women from us."
"It's common sense." I can tell that she is struggling not to lose patience with Carl, who does appear inappropriately combative.
"I understand perfectly", says Francois. "My father, a Tutsi, was murdered by Hutus in Rwanda. "I am, or till very recently, was a Roman Catholic priest. It's a bit of a long story, but a Hutu, one of the men who murdered my father, approached me for confession. I couldn't absolve him. Yes, I understand perfectly well, why the women you work with need to be protected from men."
"Thank you very much, Francois", she says, relieved.
"Yes", says carl, not quite grudgingly. "Thanks."
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