The Bank Statement

Hotel bar? What hotel? One in Cambridge?" she asked, unable to understand where this conversation was going.

"Not Cambridge... London. The West End, sort of Knightsbridge way."

I noticed a quiver on her lips, no more than that, but mention of Knightsbridge shocked her. That's where she had spent the night.

"Which hotel?" She asked, but she had already dropped her gaze. I guess she knew what was coming.

"The Grand Central," I said calmly. "It's just off the square. Maybe you know it Jenny? ...Maybe you've been there?... Recently maybe?"

Jenny ran her hand across her brow, and then looked up, trying to force a smile to her face. She didn't know how much I knew. Christ, I didn't know how much I knew.

"Ok, so I was there last night. I was working," she whispered, and then spoke louder, more confidently. " Christ Jim you knew I was going there. I told you so. I always tell you where I am going.... What's this all about?"

"It's about who you were with," I answered, still calm outwardly, if not inside.

She looked straight at me, not sure what to say. "A client, just a client," Jenny said at last, but her voice wavered. I think she already knew she had lost.

"And do all your clients get to feel your arse?.... Do they all treat you as if they own you?... Do they all get kissed like they were your lover?... Do they all get to stick their bloody fingers up your fucking pussy," I threw at her, losing my calm completely.

Jenny looked at me, and her face dissolved, then she burst into tears.

I should have felt triumph, but all I felt was heartbreak, our heartbreak. I still loved her you see. I resisted the temptation to rush to her, cuddle her, and tell her it was all OK, to not worry about it. It was too late for that.

I waited, as there was no way that I was going to say the next words. What she said next could just make a difference.

After a while, she looked up, and whilst still sniffing back the tears, said, "I love you Jim." Then burst out crying again, the grief wracking through her whole body.

I again waited till she settled down. Again waited for her to speak first.

"What did you see Jim?" She asked timidly.

"I'll tell you what I saw you bitch. I saw you smile at him and kiss him. I saw you stroking his back, and him fondling your backside, which you didn't seem to object to. I saw the two of you going off arm in arm towards the stairs with his hand half way up the back of your dress. That's what I saw... I suppose you were off to his bedroom. Am I right?"

Jenny looked at me sadly, sadder than I could ever remember seeing her. She opened her mouth to deny but, but stopped, knowing it was a waste of time. Then she nodded her head, just enough to acknowledge my fears to be correct.

The look in her eyes was one of utter despair.

"I suppose you fucked one another. Fucked away all night, and then had the damn cheek to come back here all covered in his cum, smelling of him."

"That's not true," she wailed back. "I didn't come back like that. I showered before leaving the hotel. I'd never do that to you I promise."

I wasn't sure what her promises were worth any more, so I went on.

"Then why did you get changed in the other room? Why didn't you undress in our room like you normally would?"

"I didn't want to wake you. If you were sleeping, then I didn't want to wake you up." Her response was immediate, had the ring of truth, but hardly excused her.

"And why was that?" I asked at last. "Because you didn't want me to know how late you were back?"

"Maybe." Jenny whispered almost inaudibly, after some moments.

"And not for the first time I'll bet," I shot at her, her silence confirming my accusation.

"What do we do now then Jenny?" I asked after another long silence, the only noise her sniffling, as she tried to control her emotions. I wasn't enjoying this as much as I'd hoped I would.

"I don't know Jim. But I do love you, only you. You're the only one."

" Oh yes Jenny, I'm the only one you love, but you make love to some other guy behind my back. That's really convincing. I really believe that."

"It was just sex, we didn't make love, not love. It was just sex. Fun, exciting even, but just sex."

"And there's a difference?" I questioned her.

She nodded her head. "Yes there's a difference, a big difference. Please Jim, understand there's a big difference."

I was in no mood to understand the difference, and was finding it harder to control my anger.

"This lover of yours'," I continued. "Who is he? How long has this been going on?"

"He's not my lover, I've told you he's not. It's not what you think Jim honestly, there's absolutely nothing between us, please believe me it's...."

"Shut up you stupid fucking cow," I interrupted her. "Stop making it worse. Stop lying to me, do you think I'm bloody stupid or something. Tell me now, how long have you been fucking him? Is it weeks or months, or maybe years?"

"I only met him last night," said Jenny suddenly calm, though the tears still streamed down her cheeks. "I met him at the hotel. Probably only five or ten minutes before you spotted us."

"Oh yes! And I'm supposed to believe that am I? I suppose he bought you a glass of wine, and got you drunk. Took advantage of you, you poor little cow."

"No it wasn't like that at all Jim," was my beautiful virgin bride's whispered answer. "As I said I was working.... He paid me to have sex with him."

Jenny's Story

Hi, I suppose you must all think I'm awful and I can't blame you. It broke Jim's heart when I told him the guy in the hotel had paid me for sex, that I was a call-girl. I tried to tell him I wasn't, that I worked as an Escort Girl, but who was I kidding, not even myself anymore. He called me a cheap prostitute, and that really hurt me. Made me cry. Some how I can't stand the word prostitute, and I just can't think of myself as one. A silly little difference in words maybe, but it had always allowed me to live with myself.

And cheap? ...No I certainly wasn't cheap, not by any standards. My clients were all very rich, and they had to be to pay me, and the commission my agency, Golden Circle took. Top politicians, sportsmen, Captains of Industry as the press called them, all sorts, and from all over the world as well.

Like the other girls I had regulars, once a month maybe, and some of them I'd known for some years, a couple before I even met Jim, though I prayed to God that he'd never discover that fact. There were British, American, Canadian, French, all sorts, quite an international clientele. Mostly it was when they were visiting London, usually on business, but they often invited me away for the weekend, and before I married Jim, sometimes a week or more.

Golly, that always cost them a packet, several thousands, but I guess I gave them good value. When I was with them, I was their girl friend, their mistress, loving and attentive.

For my clients I must have been the perfect girl friend, available on demand by way of a simple telephone call, to do more or less anything they wanted, and not there when they didn't need me. I never spoiled it by taking money direct from them either. That went through Golden Circle, and they then paid my cut, but since I'd got married, direct into my secret bank account. I never even touched any of that money, I couldn't bring myself to do so, and it had long since been nothing to do with money anyway. That is except for my so-called monthly salary which was then transferred to my normal account to cover up what I was up to, and I made a point of letting Jim see that on a regular basis to make sure he suspected nothing.

Then he found that damn statement; the man I loved so completely and desperately found it, where I had hidden it overnight, and my world collapsed.

I cried for a week, and my eyes were red with my grief. Jim had stormed out of the house, and he was crying like a baby. I couldn't believe I could have hurt him so deeply. It was stupid to think I could get away with it forever, and I don't know what I must have been thinking. It had just become my way of life. I'd been doing 'escorting' when I met him, and though I'd stopped for over six months after we got married, it was like a drug, and I drifted back into it. I could claim I was forced, but that is too easy, and I don't deserve easy any more, I've lost my right to that.

I had no idea were he'd gone, where he was living, and despite my calls, he refused to speak to me, or even listen to me. I was desperate, almost suicidal, and though I understood his hurt, I knew he loved me, or at least had, and couldn't understand how he could cut me off so abruptly like that. I cut myself from everyone, and didn't have a friend in the world. I realised how my life style had provided me with so many so called 'Friends', but none I could confide in, not one single one that I could cry my heart out to. There was one of course, but he wouldn't speak to me, and who could blame him.

I'd turned down several 'dates', and told them I wasn't well. I must have sounded terrible on the phone, so I guess they believed me, and anyway I was in no condition to entertain any men. To my shame, even then, I never thought about telling them I was finished with that way of life. I hope it was just because I never thought about it clearly.

After about ten days with no contact, even Sarah at his office politely turning down my requests to be put through to him, I decided to go there. By then I'd stopped crying all the time, and my eyes had recovered somewhat, but despite applying my make up, I still looked a mess. Though I am quite pretty, I know I'm not naturally an outstanding beauty like some girls are, but I've always been able to make the most of my appearance, and I'd had the best education that money could buy. I do have a good figure, and I knew how to stand, how to walk, and how to hold myself, as I'd been taught by the best in the world at my finishing school in Switzerland. I'd taught myself how to laugh at men's jokes, and how to talk to them on subjects they would be interested in. I knew I had a dazzling smile, but I'd been born with that.

I was used to heads turning when I walked into a room, and I adored it, almost came to expect it. But I didn't turn any heads that day, none at all.

"Christ Jenny, you look terrible," said Sarah when I presented myself at her desk. We had become quite friendly over the last few years, but she was normally the epitome of discretion, so my appearance must have really surprised her. "Sorry, Jim is not here."

"When will he be back," I asked, fighting to hold back another bout of crying.

Sarah looked at me pityingly, stood up, and took me gently by the arm.

"Come on," she said. "I'm due a break. Let's go and get a coffee somewhere."

Over coffee, actually I drink tea, she told me that Jim had seen my car pulling into the car park and had gone out through the back door, as I'd come in through the front. He'd told her we'd had a big bust up, but not why, which made me sigh with relief.

"He won't discuss it," she said. "He's in a terrible state. Do you want to tell me what it's about?"

"I can't," I replied. "But it's my fault, not his."

"That bad eh?" Sarah commented, with a knowing look.

"Worse than that," I replied. "Much worse."

"I think you need to find someone to talk to about this," she suggested. "Someone close to you, that you can trust."

It was good advice, but I had nobody. I was close to my parents, an only child, but how do you start a conversation like that? "I haven't mentioned it before Daddy, but I've been working as a prostitute since I left Oxford University, and my husband's just found out."

No, it just wasn't possible. I had nobody, and I'd have to work it out for myself.

But it didn't work out that way.

The agency kept ringing me, and eventually I had to admit what had happened. That my husband had found out.

"Oh dear!" They said, but that was about all. The last thing they wanted was to get involved in a marital argument.

Then a week later Rolf rang. Rolf was another of my American clients, nearly sixty, but in really good shape, a good lover, and I'd known him since before I'd met Jim.

We got on really well, and I suppose I did have some quite deep feelings for him, though nothing like I had for Jim. Anyway he was married, and once I'd even met his wife, though I was of course introduced as a junior business contact.

Rolf was one of only two of my 'dates' that I had ever given my telephone number to. I felt I could trust him.

"Sorry Rolf," I said when I heard his voice. " I'm not available at the moment. Might not be for some time."

"Golden Circle told me your bad news," he said back to me over the phone, and I burst into tears.

"You need someone to talk to, don't you," Rolf went on. "Let's meet somewhere. Maybe I can help."

" Oh Rolf, please no, don't ask me out. I'm in no state to give you what you want."

"Payback time," he said quietly. "Time I did something for you rather than the other way round. No messing around I promise. Meet me at the usual place..... No, not there. I'll come up to Cambridge. Where do you suggest?"

Five hours later, I was sat in front of Rolf, and he started to question me.

"Do you want him to come back?" He asked first, to which I replied that of course I did, but there seemed to be little chance.

"If not, then I would be more than happy to.... Well you know that Polly and me haven't been getting on so well for some time now, and I thought...."

I interrupted him, "Please Rolf, don't lead me down that path. I like you, OK, I love you in some way, but you're not Jim. Sorry but you're just not Jim."

Rolf nodded his head sadly.

" I expected that Jenny. Sorry but I had to ask. Had to get it out of the way."

I smiled at him. He was so sweet.

"Jim won't talk to me Rolf. He just won't talk to me. I don't know what to do. I don't understand how if he loved me, he could cut me off like that."

"And I don't think you've yet realised quite how much you have destroyed him, his whole world young lady." Rolf replied.

"But he just doesn't understand. It was just sex. Just something I need, the excitement, it's like a drug and I don't seem to be able to exist without it. Going with a range of different men all the time. Not knowing who I'd be going to bed with from one week to another. I can't seem to explain it to anyone."

I poured my feelings out, explaining how even when I'd stopped after getting married, I'd ended up miserable after just six months or so, with only one lover, wonderful though he was, and as much as I was in love with him.

"Just sex was it?" Rolf asked.

"Yes there was never anything else, just sex."

"The way you smiled at me. The way you kissed me. The way you pleased me, just sex all the time was it?" Rolf asked.

He wasn't asking, he was querying whether I'd got my feelings right.

I thought about it. Remembered what it was like being with him. Remembered the feelings with which we had made love, yes made love, not had sex.

I was kidding myself, and though it had so often been just sex with most of them, an adventure to take part in and forget, with Rolf, and a few others for that matter, it had been more than that. Far more.

"Do you remember how you reacted when you found out I'd gone with one of the other girls when you were on holiday Jenny," Rolf demanded gently, reminding me of how angry I had been. How I had shouted and screamed at him, sulked for a couple of weeks. Even been sharp with poor Jim who was so blameless.

"Can you imagine how Jim must feel now.?... Can you imagine how much worse it must be for him?"

I looked up at Rolf, and it came flooding in, the realisation of quite what I'd done to Jim. Quite how unspeakably awful I had been.

I started crying, but this time I wasn't crying for myself. I was crying for him, my husband, my love, and I cried like I'd never cried in my life before.

I was heartbroken, that I'd broken his heart.

Rolf took me gently in his arms, and rocked me tenderly, whilst I cried like a baby as he held me.

"I can't imagine what I can do, but I'll try," he whispered to me. "I just hope he thinks as much of you as I do."

I'd do anything, absolutely anything to have just a glimmer of a chance to win Jim back. I'd fight against my need to go with other men, and I preyed to God that I could be strong enough to resist it, to have the willpower to say no, I'm not going to do that anymore.

And I'd start straight away. Yes I would, straight away.

I'd tell Rolf to stop undoing the buttons of my blouse.

I will I'm determined I will.... I'll tell him to stop immediately.... Right now!... I mean it, right now.....Right now....I'll tell him to stop....

*

I wonder what happened next?

If you enjoyed it then make some suggestions, and I'll see if I can work them in.

Hope you enjoyed it.

PS Don't be too hard on poor Jenny.