by Jade West
She said pretty much fuck all, and that’s not like Mia. She’s quiet but she’s not that quiet.
“What’s going on?” I said. “Is it a pile of shit?”
She shrugged. “It’s alright.”
“Just alright?”
She nodded. “Just alright.”
I met her eyes, but she looked away. “I hated high school. Hated all of it. You can tell me if something’s shit for you, you know that, right? Maybe I’ll get it.”
“I’m alright,” she said again, but she wasn’t. She wasn’t alright at all.
I let it go for now, gave her a smile.
“Let’s get you home before your nanna sends out a search party.”
Nanna has always been Nanna to me, too. Even now. Her eyes lit up for me as she opened the door to let the girls in, and I had that fucking sadness again, that horrible pang that rears up in my gut no matter how many times it happens.
“Kids!” she said, giving them a smile as they raced on by. “There’s cake on the rack! Don’t gobble it all at once!”
“Alright, Nanna?” I said.
“Oh, Darren,” she said, and that was it. Two simple words with one simple smile. I’d normally have made myself scarce, hopped back into the truck and taken off before I could think about it too hard, but not today.
“Alright if I come in?” I said, and she pulled the door wider.
“Yes, yes,” she said. “To see Jodie? She’s not back yet…”
I shook my head, held up my tool bag. “No,” I said. “I’m not here to see Jodie. I’m here to see your washing machine.”
Afternoon one of gigolo-gate, and I already felt like a zoo exhibit. The cafe had been busier than it had all summer — streams of villagers heading in for coffee, cake and a gawk.
Does she know? Is it true? Is he really whoring his cock out?
I may as well have put a sign up on the counter. One giant YES.
Yes, it’s all true. Yes, I fucking know about it. Now eat your bloody Victoria sponge and stop with the whispering. I’d never say it, of course. That would never do. Not in my job. Not with two girls to bring up here. I kept quiet, kept smiling, serving those coffees like this was just a day like any other day.
And then I went home with a scowl on my face, cursing Darren Trent and his easy fucking dick.
The front door opened with a creak, and I stepped into the ambient sound of the girls bickering over whose turn it was on the laptop. Same old shit, different day.
Nanna was in the kitchen clearing up crumby plates. My heart softened as I saw the rack of sultana cupcakes, my favourite since I was a kid.
“You looked tired this morning, love,” she said, and squeezed my arm. “Thought I’d make your favourite.”
I watched her potter about the kitchen, and she was so much smaller than she used to be, her slippers shuffling across the tiles. She used to be so big and strong.
“Aww. Thanks, Nanna.” I put her pills on the table and grabbed a seat. I’d managed two bites by the time the girls were upon me, not with hellos or questions about my cruddy day. No. I was simply a referee in their escalating laptop war.
They both set their case out at the same time, competing for volume.
“Ruby’s watched YouTube for half an hour already! I want to check my farm!”
“Mia doesn’t even have any crops ready yet! She’s just being greedy!”
I held my hands up. “How about you give it a rest and come and sit at the table?”
Silence.
“Sit down, please,” I said. “Both of you.” They pulled up their chairs and their morose expressions summed up my day completely. “Ruby,” I began. “Did your dad speak to you today?”
She kicked her heels against the chair legs and nodded.
I folded my arms. “And what did he say? Hmm? About your swearing?”
She sighed. “He said don’t say bad words because people get all butt… upset… People get all upset if you say bad words.” She paused. “And then they all moan.”
Not quite how I’d have put it, but I nodded anyway. “They all moan because it’s not nice language, Ruby. You wouldn’t see me or Nanna going into your school, or the cafe, or the shop and saying bad words, would you? That’s not what people do, sweetheart, it’s not how people behave.”
Contrary blue eyes met mine. “Dad would. Dad went into the shop and told Mr Evans to shut his stupid bleeping mouth, remember?” She smiled triumphantly.
Lord help me.
“Yeah, and then your dad had to buy his cigarettes from Allensmore for a month, remember? Who was butt-upset then, hey?” I brushed cake crumbs from my top. “I’ll tell you who. It was your dad.”
She was quiet for a while before she offered out her little finger. “I won’t say bad words at school again, Mum. Pinky promise.”
It melted my heart as I linked my finger with hers.
I turned to Mia, but she was staring at the table top. “How was your day, poppet?”
She barely shrugged her shoulders. “Alright.”
“Just alright?”
“Yeah.”
“Want to talk about it?” Ruby’s morning revelation was twisting in my belly. “You can talk about it, Mia, if something’s bothering you. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, I know,” she said.
“Are you having problems?”
She shook her head. “The boys on the bus are idiots, that’s all.” She sighed. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does matter. If they’re upsetting you then it definitely matters.”
“Nah,” she insisted. “It’s just Tyler Dean and he’s a jerk. Everyone knows it.” She met my eyes. “I’m alright.”
“If you’re sure.” I finished up my cupcake and reached for a second, noting with amusement that the stash had already been decimated. Nanna always cooks twelve, but there were only two left and a smattering of crumbs for good measure. “You two have done quite a number on Nanna’s cakes.” I laughed. “I’d better eat quick before they’re all gone.”
Nanna came to my side, and her eyes were twinkling. “Oh no, it wasn’t the girls, not this time,” she said. She nudged me with her elbow. “It was Darren. He polished off quite a few of them.”
My stomach did a lurch as I stared up at her. “Darren was here? Actually in here?”
The anger from earlier bubbled up again. Selfish prick, not giving a toss for anything, causing so much shit for us all.
She nodded. “Brought the girls home nice and early with some chips for tea.” She smiled. “He fixed the washing machine for you.”
For me. She always adds pointed little extras like that.
I looked over at the pile of washing I’d abandoned on the kitchen floor, and the stack of whites was definitely smaller. Sure enough, the little green light was flashing on the machine, load finished. My cheeks burned at the thought of him going through the underwear pile. I’d had my tatty grey-white apple-catchers piled up in there, probably even some period-bloody ones…
The blonde bitch from the garage came into my mind. Her stupid tanned legs, so fucking perfect.
Nanna’s smile was sly. “Took him an age, it did. Had the whole thing apart. He cleaned up after, though.” I waited for it. “He’s a good one, your Darren.”
“He’s not my Darren,” I said for the millionth time. And he’s not a good one. He’s a fucking arsehole. I bit my tongue.
She put a hand on my shoulder. “You know what I mean, love. Figure of speech.”
I sighed. “I only mentioned the washing machine to him in passing.” Right before I told him I couldn’t count on him.
I got up and pulled the washing from the drum, and it was perfect, not a chewed-up sock in sight. Sure enough, there were my granny pants. The sight made me cringe.
“He must have come straight round, then. As soon as he could,” Nanna pointed out. Like it was needed.
Yes. Yes, he must have.
Our altercation came back into my mind
. The way Porsche-bitch had looked at me, the way he’d looked at me, worried about the girls and without a toss to give for her or her goodbye.
The way he’d opened the shutters and turfed her out.
And I had so many questions. Not least why? Besides the obvious, of course. Why gangbangs? Why for money?
And how? How the fuck did this even start? How long has it been going on for?
My brain fizzed.
Who with? Who else?
Nanna knew me well. She winked and smiled. “Why don’t you pop out for a bit, love? Get some fresh air? I’ll watch Question King with the girls… they can keep me company awhile…”
I got my coat.
Darren’s place is right in the middle of the village — a stuffy little two-bedroom flat above the fish and chip shop. It used to be our place, back in the day, before things went tits up and I moved me and the girls in with Nanna.
I always thought he’d leave when the garage started doing well. Get somewhere bigger, somewhere where everything wouldn’t stink of fish and chip fat… But no.
I walked over slowly, my mind whirring with questions and how I’d phrase them. Maybe he’d tell me to fuck off and mind my own business before I’d even asked.
Maybe it would be easier if he did.
I took a breath before I climbed the stone staircase to his front door. It was littered with cigarette butts, and as usual the bucket ashtray at the top was filled to the brim.
The door was open. I rapped my knuckles on the glass before I stepped inside and into the sound of the TV playing loud in the living room. Question King, Nanna’s favourite, but it wasn’t Darren watching it, it was Buck.
And Buck was wearing a tuxedo.
I stared in shock, and he was oblivious at first, a beer in his hand as he called out answers to an empty room. He started when he saw me, his huge frame jolting in the armchair.
“Jesus, Jo! I nearly shit myself!”
Buck looked totally different away from the garage. His beard was tame, his hair slick and styled, and the tux highlighted just how toned he was underneath it. He was ripped, biceps like tree trunks. I’d known Buck a long time, as long as I’d known Darren, and yet I’d never noticed him like this before.
“Where is he?” I asked, and he gestured behind me as a door-handle sounded.
I stepped back into the hallway — and practically stepped into Trent — only to realise
the world had gone crazy — stark-raving mad, in fact — because the guy standing before me wasn’t the one I remembered like the back of my hand, and sure didn’t look like the one I’d shared a bed with for six years straight. This Trent was a different animal altogether.
He was wearing nothing but a towel, and that towel hung precariously low on his hips. Far too low for decency, and precarious enough that my heart thumped at the thought of it falling. That towel highlighted a deep muscular V that was definitely more prominent than it had ever been when we were together. His abs were like a washboard, rippling under his skin, and his chest looked sculpted from steel. He was dripping wet and smoking hot, and I couldn’t stop my jaw from dropping as I checked him out. My eyes shamelessly roved him, powerless to look away, checking out the similarities and the differences. Mainly the differences.
His tattoos had grown somewhat since I’d last seen him naked, the work on his arm reaching up to his shoulder and snaking round to the back. There were more, too. More tribal pieces on his side. One on his hip that disappeared under the towel and away from my prying eyes.
He stared at me staring at him, and I was burning, trapped.
“Jo,” he grunted.
“I, um… wanted to talk…”
He tipped his head for me to follow him, and my mouth turned dry as he headed to the end of the corridor and the room that was once ours. I followed in silence, propping myself against the doorframe as he rooted for clothes. He pulled out a tux I’d never seen before. It wasn’t the stiff old one he’d worn to Aunt Beth’s wedding, that was for sure.
“Girls alright?”
I nodded. “With Nanna.”
He laid the tux on the bed. “I’m off out. Got a gig.”
My stomach lurched at his words. “Yeah, sorry. I won’t be long. I was just…”
He met my stare and my nerves caved. I turned away to save his modesty, but he let out a low laugh.
“Christ, Jo. Don’t be a fucking prude. You’ve seen it all before.”
But I hadn’t. Not like this.
I looked back just in time to see him tug the towel from his hips, and I was stuck there, gawping at the thickness of his thighs… of his toned calves… of his… his…
“Fucking hell, Jodie. You’ve gone redder than a baboon’s arse.” He took his cock in his hand, and he was smirking. “Dunno why. You’ve definitely seen this before.”
I made myself blink, and cleared my throat as he dried himself down.
“I wanted to say thanks,” I said. “For the washing machine… I really appreciate it…”
He shrugged. “Text would’ve done.” It was his turn to check me out, and I could’ve shrivelled into nothing. Whereas he’d turned into some kind of muscular Adonis since we’d last fucked, all those years ago, I’d turned into a village mum. My hair was crap, and I knew it. My skin was pasty and plain without even a dab of mascara. My clothes were practical and… well, they were dull… my nails were short and bitten to shit. Let’s not even get started on what was under my clothes, either. “Spit it out,” he said. “What are you doing here?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know really. I just wanted to… talk.”
He pointed to his alarm clock. “I’ve got ten minutes.”
I nodded.
“Go on, then,” he said. “What’s up?”
I took a breath. “This… this gigolo stuff…” I paused. “Why do you do it? Besides the obvious, I mean…”
He tossed the towel aside and sprayed some deodorant under his arms. “Does it fucking matter why?”
I held his stare. “It matters.”
He groaned, and dipped down, reached under the bed. I could feel my heartbeat in my temples. He pulled out a box, a big wooden thing with a clasp and a lock. “Want the fucking truth?”
“Please.”
“Righto.” He dropped the box on the bed and tossed me the key, let out a sigh. “See for your fucking self if it matters so much.”
My fingers were shaking as they turned the key in the lock. I opened it slowly, carefully, and inside was a picture of our girls taped to the lid. It was a couple of years old, and they were at the beach, smiling proudly at a monster of a sandcastle he’d helped them build. The tide was coming in, but the girls were unaware, still believing their castle would last forever.
I hadn’t been there, but I’d heard them tell the sandcastle tale many times. Many times.
Trent’s box was stuffed full of cash — tens and twenties, some fifties, too.
“For the kids, like I said,” he grunted.
I was taken aback. “But you support the kids already… they don’t need…”
He shook his head, and his expression was heavy. “University.”
My heart dropped, and I knew exactly where his head was at. “Darren, you don’t have to…”
He held up a hand. “I want to. For Mia.” A soft smile flashed across his lips. “She’s smart… Clever, like her mother. She should go to university.” He paused. “Like you should’ve gone…” The thought smarted, and he saw it. “If we’d done things by the book… if we’d…”
I nodded, but didn’t say the words aloud. I’d been just sixteen when I’d fallen in love with Darren. Seventeen when I gave birth to his first baby. An accident, but the most beautiful accident in all creation. Mia changed everything for both of us.
He sighed, and pulled on a pair of boxers. “I’m not saying we’re… that we… I wouldn’t change anything. I just want the girls to do what we didn’t.” He paused. “If that’s what they want.”
/> “A university fund? From gangbang sex?”
He scowled. “Doesn’t fucking matter where it’s from. Point is it’s fucking there.”
“But the garage already does well…” I ran my fingers over the cash and it felt so weird, so dirty.
“Yeah, it does, but you gotta make hay when the sun shines, Jo. That latest rig cost me forty fucking grand. The truck cost thirty. With Petey and Jimmy O learning the trade… well, it all costs. Bang Gang money’s not tied to anything… and the only overheads are condoms.” He laughed and slipped on a crisp white shirt. I fought the urge to help him with his collar.
“So you take it while it’s there? Put it in a box for Mia’s university fund?” I could barely believe it. My voice felt heavy in my throat.
He shrugged. “And for Rubes. But she’ll probably end up with me, in the yard. Can’t keep her away.” He fastened up his bow tie. “So, now you know, alright?”
I met the gaze of the man I’d known better than anyone. “How, Darren? When?”
He pulled on his trousers and smiled. “Charity calendar three summers back, remember it?”
Of course I remembered it. It was to fund the local hospice, and workmen around the county had signed up for it. Trent’s team had been June — a glossy picture of them half naked, straddling tyres in a field full of hay bales. “Yeah, I remember.”
“Got a call after that. Got several actually. Women with a lot of money, looking for more.” He shrugged. “Word spread.”
“Three years, that’s how long you’ve been doing this?”
He nodded. “Right after I stopped seeing Stacey… When you were hooking up with Brian…”
I cringed at the memory. A couple of years with Brian was enough to make anyone cringe.
He checked the clock. “I gotta go, Jo.”
I stacked the money back in the box and handed it to him. His fingers felt so hot when they touched mine. “You could stop,” I said. “There’s a lot of money there, Darren.”
He didn’t answer, just slid the box back under the bed.
I continued. “I mean, enough to pay for tuition fees, surely… that’s enough, no?”
“I’m not stopping, Jo,” he said. “It’s too good a thing.”