No little girl dreams of this dressing room. Anna hunches on the concrete beam scratching around in her bag for her high heel boots.
The ground is a mat of shingle and damp dirt. Even the weeds have given up trying to grow in this dank corner of Christchurch's red light district. A digger tyre serves as Anna's vanity table. On it rests a sparkly card holder full of condoms.
It is bitter July night in Christchurch - the kind of cold that eats through each layer of clothing. But instead of putting clothes on, Anna is taking them off. She is a prostitute on Manchester St.