Bang Gang

by Jade West

  Darren put his hands on Ruby’s shoulders. “Good spot,” he said. “You were doing him a favour, ungrateful prick.”

  It wasn’t exactly how I would have put it, but it was exactly the moment I decided to handle the Tyler Dean situation with the school and definitely not with Darren.

  I watched Ruby watch the car down the street, a quizzical expression on her face.

  She turned to look at her dad when the car was out of sight.

  “Can I ask you a question?” she said. “A garage question?”

  He smiled. “Go for it.”

  I nearly smiled along as he dropped to her level to hear her out, my skin prickling at the memory of his body against mine.

  Ruby folded her arms, and scowled. She jabbed a finger at the spot the car had vacated and let out a sigh.

  “How come a cunt like that gets to drive such a nice bloody Audi?”

  I sent Ruby over to Tonya with a tenner for ice creams. She took the girls over to the shop and I tackled this Audi shit with Jodie.

  “He was a prick,” I said. “She was right about his fucking tyres, arrogant cunt.”

  “That’s not the point,” Jodie said. “She kicked someone’s car, Darren, and she was rude.”

  “She kicked his tyres, it’s totally different.”

  “She’s eight years old,” she said. “She shouldn’t be kicking anyone’s anything.”

  She looked tired. Really tired. I pictured her under me, squirming as I fucked her tight ass.

  “You should be in bed.”

  You should be in my bed.

  “I came out for breakfast with Tonya. The girls were up early.”

  I looked her in the eye. “You alright, Jo. About everything?”

  She nodded, gave me a crappy smile. “I’m good, yeah. You?”

  “Alright.”

  “Good,” she said. “Then we’re alright. That’s good.”

  So fucking awkward. She played with her fancy fake nails. I watched her, just watched her.

  I sighed. “You should get some sleep this afternoon. I’ll take the girls.”

  “But it’s not your weekend…” she said.

  “Fuck that, Jo. When have I ever cared if it’s my fucking weekend or not?”

  She looked at the floor. “I thought you might be… busy…”

  Busy Bang Ganging. That’s what she thought. That’s what she meant.

  Ruby came charging down the road, her face covered in whippy ice cream and chocolate sauce. She had the ice cream clenched in her fingers, trying her best to lick it and run at the same time. Even Mia had hung up Skype for the sake of a whippy cone, but she was more demure about it, walking slowly at Tonya’s side.

  Once again I noticed the makeup on her, and it made me feel weird. Made me feel old. She was too young for all that shit, but then again, what did I know? All her friends were probably doing it.

  “Wanna come with me, girls?” I said. “We’ll take the truck over to Sam’s place. Get some practice on the track. How about it?”

  They didn’t need much convincing.

  I sent them ahead to the truck with the keys and Jodie said her thanks.

  Tonya took her by the arm. “Better get this one back to bed,” she said. “I’ll stay on call for Nanna.”

  I smiled at her, gave her a nod.

  “I’ll be seeing you,” I said.

  I took the truck up to Sam Brown’s. He’s got an off road set-up up there, perfect for letting the girls loose.

  Sam was working on an old Honda Civic when we pulled up. He raised a hand as I lowered the window, gave the girls a wave.

  “Alright,” I said.

  He headed over. “Good day for it.”

  “Hoping to take the girls up the track, let them have a go behind the wheel.”

  “Be my guest,” he said.

  I shook his hand. “Cheers, Sam.”

  He kept an elbow on the window. “Big event at the Brecon track end of this month. Gary Finch can’t make it, family wedding up north. Think you’d be game? Nothing major, would just appreciate an extra pair of hands if we need it.”

  “I’m game for that,” I said.

  I didn’t need to see Ruby’s face to know she was busting a gut to get in on it. “Rally cars?” she said. “Can I come?”

  Sam smiled. “It’s an open event,” he said. “Plenty of people gonna be camping. Bring a tent, make a weekend of it.”

  “Might just do that,” I said.

  Ruby wouldn’t let it go as I took the truck on up to the ridge. “Please!” she said. “Please, Dad! Pleeeeease! I’ll be good, I promise! I won’t kick any tyres or anything! Not even one!”

  “I’ll have to think about it,” I said. “I’ll be busy, it’s work for me, Rubes.”

  “Mum could come!” she said. “She could get a tent, she wouldn’t mind!”

  I laughed. “Not so sure about that. You’ll have to ask her.” I looked back at Mia in the rearview. “What about you, Mia, you up for a weekend’s camping?”

  She shrugged. “Will I get phone signal?”

  “I dunno,” I said. “Maybe Daisy could come, too. Talk to her in real life for a change, how about that?”

  She smiled. “Cool, Dad.”

  I pulled up on the flat, nothing but open fields ahead of us. “You’re up, Rubes,” I said. I patted my lap and she clambered over the gearstick, sat between my legs and strained to reach the pedals. Her feet kicked short. “Not quite,” I said. “You’ll have to grow a bit.”

  She groaned. “Sucks.”

  “You can steer,” I said. “Steady, remember?”

  She pulled a face. “Yeah, of course I remember.”

  She giggled as I put the truck into first, her cute little fingers so small on the wheel. She was a natural, cranking that wheel and setting us right on the track lines. I pushed us up through the gears and she handled it like a champ, skirting the edge comfortably in third. She bounced as the truck did, shrieking in delight at the bumpy ground.

  She’d done three laps by the time Mia came up front for her turn. Mia could reach the pedals. Ruby huffed in the backseat at the revelation.

  I took the passenger seat, told Mia to buckle up and take it slow.

  She knew the drill. She put us in first and crawled around awhile before she got brave enough to notch it up to second.

  “That’s the way,” I said. “Give it a bit of welly now.”

  She was grinning her head off by the time we’d done for the afternoon. “I did it,” she said. “I can practically drive already!”

  “You’re on your way, sure enough.”

  Ruby was sulking when she climbed back up front. She folded her arms in the passenger seat and glared out of the window. “She wasn’t that good,” she said. “She hardly even went in third.”

  “You were both great,” I said. “Both of you. It’s not a competition, Rubes.”

  She didn’t look convinced.

  “I mean it,” I said. “You’re sisters. You should be supporting each other, not squabbling over stupid shit.” I shot them both a look. “There’s only two of you, make it count.”

  Ruby was quiet for a minute. “Why does there have to be only two of us? Violet Harvey’s got two sisters and a brother, and Kelly May has three brothers all to herself. Why can’t we have a brother?” She sighed. “It’s not fair. I’d like a brother, he’d like cars too. Violet doesn’t even like her brother, she says he’s a pig.”

  Mia laughed from the backseat. “Don’t be such a sausage, Ruby. We’re not going to have a brother, Mum hasn’t even got a boyfriend, and even if she did we’d have a half-brother. You’re such a baby sometimes.”

  “Steady,” I said. “She’s not a baby, she’s just a lot younger than you.”

  Mia shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

  Ruby grimaced. “I don’t want a half-brother, I want a proper brother, and I don’t want Mum to get a boyfriend. Not if he’s like boring Brian.”

  The thought punche
d me in the gut.

  I should have done the right thing and told her of course a half-brother was a proper brother, of course it would be just as good, but the words stuck in my throat. They stuck and they stayed there. I couldn’t speak a fucking word of it.

  I changed the subject back to the rally and thanked my stars when they took the bait.

  I took the girls to the Drum for their dinner, had a nice cold pint with my steak and ale pie. They chattered and bickered and chattered some more, conversation never straying far from the rally weekend and Daisy coming camping. Ruby was still a messy monster with her food, tomato sauce and peas all over the table when she’d finished. It made Mia seem all the older, holding her knife and fork so properly now, patting her lips with a napkin.

  Where the hell was my little girl going? She was turning into a bloody teenager right in front of my eyes.

  It was approaching eight by the time we set off back to theirs. I stopped off at mine on the way, dashed upstairs while they stayed in the truck. Might as well get this out of the way now, while it was fresh. I shoved the envelope in my pocket and headed back out.

  Jodie was up and about by the time we arrived, and Tonya had already made a move. Just as well.

  I waited on the porch as the girls told their driving stories, watching Jodie’s expression like a hawk as talk of the rally weekend sprung up.

  “We’ll see,” she said.

  “But Mum!” Ruby wailed.

  “I said we’ll see. That’s not a no, Ruby. It’s a we’ll see.”

  They shot off to watch TV with Nanna and I gave Jo their dinnertime lowdown.

  “Thanks for today,” she said. “I appreciated the sleep.”

  “No bother.”

  I gave her a nod when I was sure the girls were settled, and beckoned her further onto the porch. Her eyes widened as she pulled the door closed behind her.

  I took the envelope from my pocket. It was still unopened.

  She turned it over in her fingers. “What’s this?”

  “Your cash,” I said, like it wasn’t obvious.

  Her eyes were like saucers. “But why?”

  “Lads didn’t want to take it.”

  “I’m not a charity case,” she said. “I can pay.”

  I stared at her. “That isn’t what they think. They just didn’t want to take it, last night was on the house.”

  “Shit, Darren, I wanted to pay my way.”

  I shrugged. “What difference does it make?”

  “A lot,” she said.

  I tried not to think about it, tried not to remember her pretty mouth gagging on Buck’s thick dick. Tried not to remember the way she moaned for them, the way she rode Jimmy O’s cock like he was a fucking stallion.

  “Put it back in the bank,” I said. “Forget about it.”

  “Or not,” she said, and her eyes were twinkling. She could hardly hold back the smile.

  “What?” I said.

  She tried to hand me back the envelope. “Keep it,” she said. “For next time.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Next time?”

  She nodded. “I mean, I wasn’t going to… not using any more of Pop’s money… but if last night was a freebie, and I still have the money I thought I’d spent already, then it makes sense to do it again…” She smiled. “I’d like to do it again, Darren.” She paused. “All of it. It was amazing, thank you. If that’s alright?”

  No. It’s not fucking alright.

  The words were on the tip of my fucking tongue, a fire in my belly that wouldn’t quit burning. The thought of them touching her again made me want to retch, anger so fucking black I had to fight the urge to punch the wall.

  Her eyes were right on me. “Unless… unless they wouldn’t want to… unless it was shit… I’m out of practice, it’s been a while…” Her cheeks turned pink as I watched, her shoulders sagging.

  Fucking hell.

  I couldn’t do it to her.

  “It wasn’t shit,” I said. “Christ, Jo, of course it wasn’t.”

  “Then what? What is it?”

  She had no fucking idea.

  I took the envelope back and slipped it in my pocket. She looked so relieved. “I booked you in early last time as a favour,” I lied. “We’ve usually got a backlog. It might take some time.”

  She nodded. “I see.”

  No. No, you don’t fucking see.

  “A couple of weeks,” I said. “That’ll be the absolute earliest. Diary’s pretty rammed.”

  She smiled but it was awkward. She wouldn’t look at me. “I guess you can thank Mandy Taylor for that.”

  I wouldn’t be thanking Mandy Taylor for fucking anything. “I’ll have to let you know when.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I get you’re busy. I don’t expect to jump the queue.”

  The thought turned my fucking stomach. I lit up a cigarette. “Righto.”

  She nodded. “Good.”

  Was it hell.

  “I’d best be going,” I said. “Shit to do.”

  She laughed a weak laugh. “Guess you’ve got to get that backlog down.”

  “I’ll be seeing you,” I said.

  I called goodbye to the girls and Nanna and got the hell out of there.

  Ladies who lunch was off for me this week. Instead I was sitting outside Mrs Webber’s office, waiting for an audience about Mia’s Tyler Dean problem.

  It had taken a real effort to get to the bottom of what the hell was going on. Mia had been determined to play it down, right to the bitter end. She’d cried when it finally came out, the whole sorry story of him and his dickhead friends taunting her all the way through the bus journey. It had broken my heart.

  Please don’t tell the school, Mum! Please don’t! It’ll only make it worse!

  I’d assured her it wouldn’t. Assured her that Mrs Webber would get this crap sorted out in a heartbeat. That’s what head teachers are for, I’d said.

  Eventually she’d listened, but she’d gone to sleep hugging Mr Fluff, her tatty old teddy, and I hadn’t seen her do that in years.

  “Miss Symmonds?” Mrs Webber appeared from the staffroom, she shook my hand before opening her office door for me. I took a seat on the chair in front of her desk, took a breath.

  She sat herself down opposite, smile polite and professional. “I understand you have concerns about bullying?”

  “On the bus,” I said. “Tyler Dean and some of his friends.”

  “Go on…” she encouraged, and I did go on. I told her everything, every taunt, every sneer, every horrible name those assholes had called my daughter when she was supposed to be in a safe environment.

  Mrs Webber nodded, jotted down notes. “We take this kind of accusation very seriously,” she said. “We have a zero tolerance bullying policy here.” She pointed to a poster on the wall, a big smiley face with Say no to bullies in bold font.

  “What happens now?” I asked. “Mia’s very worried, she doesn’t want any repercussions from this.”

  “I’ll call him in,” she said. “And then I’ll be calling his mother, I’ve already looked her details up from his file.”

  I smiled. “Thank you,” I said. “I appreciate it.”

  “Anytime,” she said, and got to her feet. I shook her hand. “I’ll keep you informed.”

  She’d better do.

  I pulled out my phone to text Darren, thinking it probably best to give him the lowdown on what was going on. I typed out a message, just the essentials, but my stomach churned at the thought of the angry questions, the very idea of him charging on in like a bull in a china shop and causing a right bloody hoo-hah.

  I deleted the message before I sent it.

  I’d handle it myself first, then give him the details later. It’s not like I couldn’t deal with this, and things with Darren were already… complicated.

  My heart pounded.

  Darren.

  The way he’d felt inside me. The way his body felt against mine. The way I’d wanted him so m
uch I couldn’t even bear it.

  The thought that he was probably humping some skanky posh bitch at that very minute sobered up my desires enough to put that phone back in my handbag and get with the plot.

  I picked up Nanna’s pills from the chemist and tried my best not to give him another bloody thought.

  I could hardly bear to fucking look at them. Not any of them.

  I holed myself up in the office with the radio on, kept myself focused on invoicing and nothing else. I didn’t even greet customers, just kept my head down and hoped this nasty shit feeling in my gut would clear the fuck off.

  I handled the calls when they came in, some car related, some not. They all got the same gruff treatment; I didn’t give two shits who they were today.

  I opened up the black book and scribbled out anything Bang Gang related in the coming few weeks. There wasn’t all that much to scrub, I’d already been holding back most of it. Mid-November earliest, I told the callers. That’s when we’re looking at.

  There were some grumbles, but most of them took it just fine. It’s not as if they had a choice.

  I’d have my shit together by then, I had to have my shit together by then.

  I ventured out for a cigarette just before lunch, walked into a load of banter that would normally have amused the fuck out of me, but not today.

  Today’s humour was at Petey’s expense. Some fucking idiot had loosened the lid on a big can of lubricant then sent the lad over to pick it up. Cue the inevitable fucking mess of spilled lubricant all over the fucking floor.

  The lads were in hysterics, cracking all the pissing jokes about Petey spurting it everywhere, Petey dropping his load everywhere, flooding the place before he’d even got the fucking lid off.

  Poor kid was beetroot, looked like he was gonna fucking cry.

  I lit my cigarette and told them to knock it off. It only made them laugh all the harder.

  “What’s up with you, boss?” Jimmy goaded. “On your fucking monthlies or something?”

  “Just sick of your shit,” I said. “It’s fucking tiring, Jimmy. Someone better get a mop and bucket and clean that fucking mess up quick sharp.”

  He pulled a scowl, never knowing quite when to shut his fucking mouth. “This little hissy fit ain’t got nothing to do with us fucking your missus by any chance?”