Sister Bath
” I saw her look down at my legs which were clearly not naked. “For the wedding. Today. Here. This afternoon.” “Oh. Righto. Well …” She launched into a potted geography of the local area, punctuated with snippets of her own very local history and that of various neighbours, school friends and family members. Eventually she disgorged that there was a gentleman’s outfitters in the small town about fifteen minutes away. I thanked her and left, texting Alice, knowing that it’d make her laugh. Her response seemed to suggest that it did. I screeched out of the car park and, following a mixture of landmarks mentioned by the receptionist and vague half-rotted sign posts I made it. Small high street. My mum would love it. Proper shops. Hardly any major chains. Certainly no Starbucks or Pret A Manger. I found the place alright, opened the door and stepped in. Or maybe I should say stepped back in time … It was like something from my childhood. Hell, it was like something from my grandparents’. Sonya was a slight woman with short dark hair and with almost nothing to match Caitlin's rather more splendid bosom. She dressed in jeans and tee-shirts—but, like almost everyone Caitlin had met in marketing, was eager to flaunt the designer labels of her otherwise undistinguished clothes. The thin nose on her small face was brilliantly complemented by a perfect set of teeth and wide green eyes. It didn't comfort Caitlin one bit to admit that Sonya was a very pretty woman. And, although no one could say that Caitlin was unattractive, even if she was less slim than her predecessor in marriage, Sonya was patently the prettier of her husband's two wives.Caitlin resisted the temptation to delete the photo files from Ken's hard drive, even if their memory was so vivid when she regarded the rather fewer photos of her that Ken took on his digital camera and mobile phone. How could Ken bear to be parted from Sonya? However much Caitlin resisted the calories, however much she spent on.
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