The Bank Statement Ch 02

The story carries on from the first part, and much better if you read that first of course. Thanks to the literally hundreds of comments and e-mails I have had, especially those that were supportive, but also those that were abusive. They're all welcome in their way, as at least you are reading my stories. As one pointed out, reading the comments was almost as much fun, as reading the story!

I can't please every one with the ending, and I'm certainly not going to have poor Jenny cut up into small pieces and fed to the animals, but I've done my best.

To ease you back in gently, I've included the last few paragraphs of the first chapter, after Jim had discovered that his wife Jenny had been working as an escort girl and stormed out refusing to talk to her. Jenny has gone to his office to try to see him.

Again, thank you all, albeit some more than others.

*

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.

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 prayed 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....

"Rolf please," I managed to whimper quietly, my feelings and my needs conflicting badly.

"Please what?" he replied, quietly, gently, almost as you would speak to a child.

I shivered in his arms, whispering almost inaudibly, "You know what. You know."

"Then say it Jenny. Just say it."

"Please stop Rolf," I managed to get out. "Please stop undoing my blouse....I want you to. I need you to, but please Rolf, please." My body urged me to retract my words, and the burning need in the tips of my aching breasts screamed at me for being such a fool.

Rolf stopped, and cuddled me tightly to him, continuing to rock me gently.

"I'm sorry Rolf. I'm so sorry. It's not that....."

He put his finger to my lips, and cut my silly words dead.

"That's a first step Jenny. How difficult was that?" Rolf said after a few minutes.

"Difficult..... Bloody difficult Rolf," I replied as the tears that I had held at bay till then, started to roll down my cheeks. "I wanted you to carry on. Dammit I still want you to carry on...."

"But are you going to let me Jenny, because truthfully, I really want to."

"No! No I'm not," I replied, but I didn't mean it. That is I did.... But I ...... Oh damn it I didn't know what I wanted anymore."

I tore myself away from him, leapt up from the sofa and retreated a few paces, staring at him in torment.

"What are you doing to me Rolf?... Why are you torturing me like this?.... Why don't you leave me alone?"

"It's a first step Jenny," Rolf repeated. "And an easy one at that. It may not always be so easy, but it's a start."

I knew what he was doing. Had known more or less since he started. He was testing me to see if I had the will power to say no. To refuse sex just like that, knowing how good it would have been, how tenderly Rolf would have undressed me, caressed my naked body so tenderly, and then made wonderful gorgeous love to me.

I discovered I was panting, fighting for my breath, staring at Rolf, trying to get my thoughts back in order, knowing that if he so much as beckoned to me, I would fly back into his arms, and tear my own blouse of before he had another chance to stop me.

Then he laughed, just a little laugh, not much more than a grin, and the tension broke. I felt myself relaxing, my breathing coming back to normal, the turmoil in both my brain and between my legs subsiding.

"How did you know?" I whispered. " How did you know what I'm like?"

"How long have I known you?" Rolf returned my question. "How long have I been in love with you myself?"

I smiled at him. Rolf seemed to have an answer for everything, but could he help me with Jim?

"Then why didn't Jim know? Why doesn't he understand me and my needs?"

"Did you ever let him know?" Rolf answered. " Did he ever have reason to suspect?.... Would he have been able to understand if you had told him the truth?"

"You did Rolf," I answered miserably. "You listened long enough to understand."

Rolf looked at me, almost as a father would his misbehaving little daughter.

"But I knew I wasn't the only one Jenny," Rolf explained at last. "Jim is your husband, and had every right to expect that he was."

I started to sob again, the magnitude of my impossible situation dawning on me, but realising that it was perhaps nothing compared to that of my husband Jim.

Rolf stood and took me in his arms, but not as before, comforting me as several years of hidden grief poured out.

"I'll see what I can do Jenny," he repeated. "I know someone who might be able to help, but as for Jim?.... Well I'm not sure. I'm just not sure."

Jim's Story

When I'd stormed out of the house after finding out that my wonderful sweet wife was a whore, a prostitute, whatever she called her self, I'd wandered blindly around the neighbourhood with no idea where I was going or even where I had been.

I woke up on a park bench in the early hours of the morning, my head reminding me of the pub I had ended up in, and where I had drunk myself silly. I couldn't even remember leaving. Couldn't remember how I got to the park.

I found my mobile in my pocket and clicked up my office number, only stopping when it dawned on me that it was still six in the morning.

I felt empty, completely devoid of feelings. I couldn't hate Jenny because I couldn't relate to her. I didn't know her any more, and she wasn't the lovely sweet woman that I had met and gifted me her virginity.

My insides tightened, turning over, and almost making me wretch.

Her virginity.....Gifted me her virginity. The words floated in a confused jumble round my brain.

Oh Christ no, it couldn't be. Surely it couldn't be even worse?

She couldn't have been....? Not then... Not when I'd first met her, not that first evening. Please, please don't let that be true.

How we'd first met flashed back.

How she'd come into the hotel and mistaken me for the guy she was due to meet.

The guy that she was due to discuss some public relations deal with for her agency.

The agency that she used to work for.

The same agency that she still worked for.

Oh no! Please someone tell me no.

How could I have been so stupid? Why didn't I realise?

But why would I?

Why would I even think to question what she had told me?

It was all so plausible, and made good sense. But then Jenny was a very intelligent woman, so she would make sure that it made sense.

And of course I was blinded. Blinded by her beauty, and then so quickly afterwards by my love.

Love?.....Love?.... What did that mean any more?

A pal put me up for a few days, and I told him, like I told the office that Jenny and I had argued really bad. I couldn't tell them the truth, I couldn't. How do you tell anyone that you've just discovered that you've been married and in love with a prostitute, who'd been cheating on you the whole time you've known her.

Jenny tried to contact me of course, and Sarah my PA, kept telling me how upset she was, and for that matter what a state I was in.

Just once she suggested that I ought to talk to her, but I bit her head off so violently that she didn't bring the matter up again.

I rang her parents to discover that they had no idea we even had a problem. I was going to tell them what their damn daughter did for a pass-time, get my revenge on her, but baulked at hurting them so. It wasn't their fault and they'd always been good to me, if a little distant. I just told them we'd had a little argument and that no doubt Jenny would be in contact soon.

"All blow over soon enough Jim," her mother had replied. "If you only knew what problems me and George have had over the years."

If she'd known what problems we were having, then she wouldn't have been so breezy about it I suspect.

I knew I was going to have to see her. I knew I couldn't walk away without knowing the answers to so many questions. But I didn't know how, and I didn't know if I could face her, so I just kept ignoring her calls.

-----------------------------------

"Hi Jim. You don't know me, and maybe won't want to, but I'd appreciate it if you could spare me the time for a little chat. I'll ring again later."

The man's accent was American, but then I deal with Americans all the time. It was the tone of his voice that alerted me. That and the fact that he'd rung me at home, when I would be unlikely to be in. It was a couple of weeks since my awful discovery, but it was still raw in my insides. No doubt time would prove to be a great healer, but it hadn't even began to smooth down my hurt yet.

When he rang again that night I answered and didn't ring off straight away when he said he was ringing on Jenny's behalf. He'd been clever. Wondering who the hell it could have been had worked in his favour, and I decided to listen to what he had to say.

I supposed it was the boss from the agency, and reluctantly agreed to meet him, not sure that I would be able to resist slugging him, but eager to pump him for information, evidence if I needed it, as by then I thought maybe I would.

He introduced himself as Rolf, but was evasive as to how he knew Jenny. When he discovered that I wasn't prepared to talk to him unless he came clean, then he did. When he told me, then I had to believe him. Why else would anyone make up a story that he'd made love to your wife, and that he'd made love to her even before you had, and that he paid her for her favours.

I expected blind fury, but it never came. I expected to shout at him, or punch him, but I didn't. Maybe if he'd been a younger man I may have reacted differently.

Somehow I just sat there and listened to what he said.

Rolf was an intelligent man, and used to dealing with people and generally getting his own way. Rich and powerful men like Rolf tend to get their own way, but the difference with him was that he persuaded you rather than ordered you.

It would be difficult to accept that I grew to like Rolf. How can you like a man who has been fucking your wife behind your back for several years? No I couldn't like him, but I did learn to respect him, and what he said made good sense.

Whichever way it turned out, we both had to move on. I couldn't imagine ever taking Jenny back, but there was unfinished business and turning my back on it would solve nothing.

I agreed to meet her. I agreed to go and see her at our house...my house dammit... the following day.

-------------------------------------------------

I drove up to our house and parked my Jaguar on the drive. It was just like any other day, coming home from work, maybe a bit early, even the neighbours wouldn't have noticed anything odd.

Thank Christ for the self-locking device, as my hand was shaking so much that I doubt I would have been able to get the key into the lock of the car.

Thankfully I didn't have that problem with the front door, and it opened as I approached.

I prepared myself to push Jenny back if she tried to grab me and cuddle me, but she had more sense. She just stood there and let me in, asking quietly how I was.

"How the hell do you think I am?" I spat at her, despite my resolve to try to be civil.

"I'm sorry Jim," she said with just the slightest hesitation, "I won't pretend I know how you feel, but I've an idea."

"How could you know?" I demanded, but she just looked at me, without argument.

"And don't you dare bloody well tell me you love me, or any of that crap," I said, almost shouting, trying to provoke her, despite my best intentions.

"I don't have to," was all she said, without even raising her head to look up at me.

We walked through to the lounge, my lounge, and sat down facing each other.

"Well you wanted to talk. Then talk!" I said shortly.

I looked over at her, and saw that her face was blank, almost devoid of any expression, any life, any hope. Then she looked up at me, and the hint of a smile flitted over her face.

I felt my heart breaking again.

I couldn't shout at her.... I could hate her; I could detest her, but I couldn't shout at her.

"Is there any hope for us Jim?" Jenny asked at last. "Any hope at all?"

"I doubt it," I replied. "Not unless you can convince me that your behaviour was reasonable, and I don't see how you can."

"Neither can I Jim. It wasn't reasonable, not at all reasonable. It was stupid and selfish. I had a problem...have a problem, but I never even chose to share it with you. I never even asked you to help me."

She looked at me balefully, and asked, "What do you want to know Jim. I'll be honest with you I promise."

Where was I to start? There was no point in asking simply why? Or when?

How did you get into all this Jenny? How could you....." I left the question unfinished. I didn't think more was required.

Jenny took a deep breath and started.

"I spent my childhood at boarding school, and only saw my parents during the holidays. The school was strict, and the only boy I had even kissed by my eighteenth birthday was my cousin during the summer hols. Then I went up to Oxford and was sort of let off the reins. Like many girls from my background we went mad for sex. Couldn't get enough of it.

One day two of us stripped off at a rugby match, completely naked, and ran across the pitch. We were grabbed by some of the players, and... well we didn't get back to our hall till the evening of the following day, and even then in borrowed rugby shirts and nothing underneath. It was all so crazy, exciting, and for the first time in my life I felt wanted, that I really was someone, someone that had a point to make. I can't explain it anymore than that.

Then when I left, I went to work in London, but never had enough money. Not enough to live like I had been used to anyway, and I refused to sponge off my parents. I just had to be independent of them.

A girl I knew told me about this so called dating agency. Men paid you to go on dates with them...no sex...not even a good night kiss if you didn't want to. But of course I found myself quite liking some of them. First it was kissing them goodnight, then letting them go a bit further, and then of course I ended up in bed with one of them.