Page 157 of Wife After Wife
“Oh. Shit. Well, thank god it was him and not you. One other thing.”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve got this on-again off-again boyfriend, Frankie. He might be there.”
•••
Caitlyn wasn’t altogether surprised to discover Storm had just been given notice on her own flat, for breaching the terms of her lease. It seemed the number of “guests” coming and going had raised suspicions, which had in fact been entirely correct. “I’m an escort,” she said. “But they called me a prostitute! Bloody cheek. It’s not the same thing at all. Half the time I just go along to events with blokes who need a glamorous date.”
“And the other half?” asked Caitlyn as they sat on the sofa tucking into pizza.
“Well, a girl’s gotta pay the rent somehow,” said Storm with a wink. “But I’m choosy. Don’t go with no mingers.”
There was the sound of the key in the lock. Frankie was back.
“Well, hello,” he said. “And who’s this?”
“This is Storm, the girl I ran away from home with!”
“For real?”
Storm sat up straighter, flicking back her long hair. “And you’re Frankie? So are you on again or off again at the moment?”
“Caitlyn upped and married some rich geezer, but I’m the one shereally wants.” He came over and planted a lingering kiss on her lips, but she noticed him watching Storm. “So would you be the friend she used to go on the game with? Gotta confess, I get frisky thinking about that.”
“I didn’t!” said Caitlyn. “I just... Guys used to buy us drinks, maybe give us a bit of cash, but it was us calling the shots, right, Storm?”
“Can’t remember, to be honest. Was off my face most of the time.”
“You a user?” said Frankie, helping himself to pizza.
“Strictly special occasions only, now.”
“Frankie...” said Caitlyn, her voice loaded with warning.
He shrugged. “Never touch the stuff myself.”
•••
Storm stayed. Frankie stayed. They were a pair of parasites. The joy of seeing an old friend was soon overtaken by the realization that Storm hadn’t changed, was still happy to live off Caitlyn while giving absolutely nothing in return.
The final ofRock Godwas a ratings blockbuster, and Caitlyn was signed up for the next series. In the meantime there were media interviews and advertising contracts, so she wouldn’t have to worry about money.
But it wasn’t financial security she wanted. She ached for what she’d lost. She’d felt wrapped in love, and now that blanket had been whipped away, leaving her cold, exposed.
•••
Another letter from Tom Cranwell arrived. This time there were all sorts of legal threats she didn’t understand. In fact, she didn’t know some of the bigger, more complicated words—she’d never properly learned to read and write. Florence had taught her, kindly and patiently, so that she’d be able to do her job properly, but she still struggled at times.
Caitlyn found herself crying again as she thought back to how hard she’d strived and how Florence had believed in her. Even Harry had, for a while.
She hadn’t been worth their efforts. Good people wasting time on bad.
When she’d calmed down, she showed the letter to Storm.
“You can’t let him do this to you, babe. He owes you!” she said. “A man that rich wants a divorce, he pays the price.”
Caitlyn explained about the prenup again.
