Old School Friends

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Jean had recognised Christen as soon as she walked in to the bar with her colleagues. Christen was sitting on her own at the bar, dolled up to the nines, lazily smoking a cigarette, confidently scanning the room. God she’d come a long way since school, thought Jean. Jean approached her, at first it appeared that Christen didn’t recognise her, but then her face broke into a smile.

‘Oh my God! Jean, wow! What are you doing here?’ they air kissed dramatically.

They had been great friends in school but had lost touch soon after. Going out every night, turned into once a week, once a month, as boyfriends turned into husbands and kids had come along. Telephone calls became so infrequent it was almost awkward to call; it was better to lose a friend than apologise for not phoning.

They spoke for a little while, catching up on who they married, where they lived, how many kids they had, other people from school. Then, Christen told Jean she was expecting someone. Jean got the message, but didn’t want to lose contact again. They arranged to meet in a coffee shop in town the following Wednesday and Jean went back to her colleagues.

‘Hey Jean how do you know the hooker?’ asked JP, the office big mouth.

Jean was shocked, what did he mean by hooker? That’s a prostitute! Christen wasn’t a prostitute.

‘She’s not a hooker, that’s my old school friend, Christen.’

‘She may be your old school friend, but that doesn’t stop her being a member of the oldest profession.’

Jean looked at her old friend again, what was JP talking about? Okay she might be wearing a little bit too much make-up and her heels might be a bit high but women can dress how they want without having dickheads like JP calling them prostitutes. She tried to change the subject but JP was like a man possessed.

‘Look!’ He said nodding in Christen’s direction.

Jean looked around and saw a man in a smart business suit talking to her old friend. She could clearly see him hand something over, money? And then they left, arm in arm, they walked over towards the lifts and after a small wait they disappeared.

JP was unbearable, in his eyes he’d been proved right.

‘Can you get me her contact details?’ he said sleazily.

Jean didn’t know what to think, she liked to think of herself as a woman of the world but deep down she was a bit of a prude. Prostitution was what other people did, not people she knew. Should she still meet Christen for coffee now she knew what she did? Would she be able to look her in the eye? Oh what the hell she had to go, she had to find out for sure, that night could have been anything. It could have been Christen husband or new lover, he could have just been handing over the room key not money. JP was a dick, he liked to be all man of the world but he was just a childish fantasist.

The two women were all smiles as they settled over their lattes. They chatted about this and that, that and this, they got on like a house on fire but the only thing burning was the question that Jean was dying to ask. She was trying to find a way to subtly broach the subject but she couldn’t. She took a deep breath.

‘So who was that you left the hotel with last week?’ God, she sounded like bad cop.

‘Yeah, it must have looked a bit dodgy I suppose.’ Christen replied with a bright and breezy smile.

Jean breathed a sigh of relief, if it only looked a bit dodgy, Christen was going to give her a perfectly reasonable explanation.

‘I was hustling!’ Christen said, Jean’s mouth dropped open, her brain trying to process the information.

‘No don’t be daft,’ Christen said immediately, ‘it was my husband you fool, but.... don’t tell anyone,’ Christen leaned in close. ‘We were doing a wee bit of role-play, you know to spice things up, so your colleague was nearly right.

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