Jenny Jelepody

(written a couple of years ago, just a simple little thing)

Jenny Jelepody immersed herself in the gloriously hot bubble bath. Just a week ago she had met the man of her dreams. Tall, dark, handsome, and filthy rich. It had been lust at first sight. Edward Syngeon-Smyth had wined and dined her like a perfect gentleman. He was polite, courteous, well spoken, well educated, divorced and very lonely. It had been a match made in Heaven.

Jenny had played hard to get at first. She had declined his initial offers of a drink or dinner date. Even when a hundred red roses were delivered to her door she still feigned disinterest. But her eyes egged Edward on, a little glint here, a little bat of her extended eyelashes there. He was soon putty, warm, wet, gooey putty, in her hand. One small smile from Jenny sent Edward into raptures and the number of roses doubled. The offer of dinner and the very best theatre tickets were just too much for Jenny to ignore.

And so she had let Edward befriend her. They spent hours together, life stories swopped, the tragic death of Jenny’s husband gushed out over a plate of the very best oysters, the tales of Edward’s yachts and penthouses met with envious gasps. Life seemed perfect for the pair. Two lost souls miraculously thrown together by a chance meeting at a polo match.

Poor Edward was smitten. Anything that Jenny mentioned he would conjure up in a day or sooner. You’ve never owned a diamond necklace, my dear? No problem! You’ve never been to Broadway? Tomorrow, my love! You’ve never even touched a Valentino dress? A whole rack will be yours by the weekend!

Ah, Jenny laid back in the bath. The soft bubbles caressed her skin and the relaxing water massaged her beautiful body. When she met Edward earlier tonight she knew the time was right. When she led him into her new apartment (paid for by Edward, of course) he had looked so happy and so contented. When he’d laid eyes on her enormous, luxurious round bed he had nearly fainted. All his dreams were about to come true.

Jenny stroked her glistening skin with the flannel. It was bright red, and nearly matched the growing crimson of the bubbly water. Such a shame really to spoil a bath in this way, but it was the laziest and most enjoyable way to wash off the blood. Jenny laid back and sighed. No more polo, thank goodness! Once she was dry and dressed she would dispose of the many pieces of Edward now lying in her kitchen and tomorrow begin the search for another Mr Right ready for suitable fleecing and dispatch…

 

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2 thoughts on “Jenny Jelepody”

  1. Love it! That period of time fascinates me and I am working on a story which begins 1918 so I need to pay attention to such things as the music, dress… Thank you!

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    1. It’s a great period to write about, 1918 into the 1920s. It seems both remote to us yet so near, especially with the wealth of resources available relating to that period and it being within living memory of our grandparents or great grandparents with all their photos etc remaining. I’ve recently written a short piece for my writing group based around a Flapper girl, again it’s just such an emotive period.

      Like

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