The rise of the pop-up brothel

I had been in Los Angeles for less than a month when I received the call from a concerned neighbour back home in London. ‘Why are there men queuing up outside your flat at 3 a.m.?’ It was a good question. ‘And are you aware that a locksmith came over the other day to change your locks?’ I had no idea. ‘Oh and by the way, your tenant has put some kind of security camera outside your front door.’ Concern turned to panic. ‘And there’s been rather a lot of … erm, activity, you know … to-ing and fro-ing. That tenant of yours certainly has an appetite for the ladies.’ My neighbour must have been mistaken. I had rented my apartment to Alan and Ada, a respectable young Chinese couple. They agreed to rent my place for three months, which coincided perfectly with my trip to the US.

It soon became clear that Alan and Ada weren’t quite the charming married couple they had made themselves out to be. When I returned, Alan greeted me at the door but refused to let me in. Over his shoulder, I spotted Ada berating a pair of scantily clad Asian girls. A couple of ropey-looking men sat patiently in my hallway, which appeared to be doubling as a waiting room.

Like a growing number of part-time landlords, I had been well and truly screwed over by a worrying new part of the underworld. ‘Pop-up’ brothels are a growing menace and not just around tatty inner London. The problem is spreading from urban areas to some of Britain’s most unlikely rural enclaves. The bishop of Derby, the Rt Revd Alastair Redfern, has been speaking out against the exploitation of vulnerable young women, mostly from eastern Europe, who are being sex-trafficked to remote parts of the Peak District, where holiday homes are plentiful and cheap.