Bang Gang

by Jade West

“It’s the kids at school,” she began. “They say you like… they say you’re a gigolo. What’s a gigolo, Dad? Are you really one?”

  Shit. My stomach dropped.

  “What do you think a gigolo is, Rubes?”

  She shrugged again. “I think it means kissing, like kissing lots of people…” She stared at her mug. “And the other stuff… the icky stuff… more than kissing…”

  I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

  She sipped her tea. “They say you’re doing the icky stuff with all the ladies in the village.” Finally, she looked at me. “Are you doing that, Dad? Are you doing the icky stuff with all the ladies in the village?”

  I opted for honesty. I find it’s usually the best way. Well, honesty within reason – she’s eight-years old.

  “No,” I said. “I’m not doing the icky stuff with all the ladies in the village. I made a mistake and may have done some icky stuff with one of them, because I’m a stupid prick sometimes. I’m sorry about that, Rubes.”

  She pulled a face. “Mandy Taylor.”

  Shit. Playground gossip knew no fucking bounds.

  “I’m not doing any icky stuff with ladies in the village, Rubes, especially not Mandy Taylor. Not even any kissing.”

  “Pinky promise?” she asked, and held up her little finger. “I don’t like Mandy Taylor. She smiles funny and I don’t like the way she laughs. I don’t want her to be my step-mum.”

  Jesus! I hooked her finger with mine. “Pinky promise, Ruby. No women in the village, and Mandy Taylor will never ever be your step-mum.”

  I thought that might be the end of it, but blue eyes stared into mine, her smile dulling just a little. “If you want to kiss people and all that other stuff, why don’t you kiss Mum? She looks really pretty now with her new hair and everything, and she has nice clothes! She looks like a princess!”

  Awkward question of the year award goes to Ruby Trent.

  “Your mum is very beautiful, Rubes, whether she’s got new hair and nice clothes or not. She always looks like a princess. But we’re just friends.”

  Her face dropped and I felt it, it fucking hurt.

  “But just-friends could kiss each other couldn’t they? If they both wanted to? If she looks like a princess then why don’t you want to kiss her?”

  I sighed. “Oh, Rubes, it’s not that simple. Adult stuff isn’t ever that simple.”

  She looked away from me, back at the TV.

  I tried to make light of it. “Your mum wouldn’t even want to kiss me, Rubes. Princesses only kiss frogs in fairy tales, not in real life.”

  She laughed at that. “You’re not a frog!”

  “I am so a frog,” I said, and did a slurpy face, made a frog croak. “Anyway, what’s your issue with frogs, hey? Are you some kind of bloody froggist? You know what happens to froggists around here?” I took her mug from her and put it on the floor, and then I grabbed her, tickled her until she squealed and giggled and squirmed in my arms. I let her go, gave her a few seconds head start before I chased her, and Mia appeared in the hallway, grumpy-faced at the noise interruption until she dropped her cool front enough to laugh. She looked so old these days, all grown up at high school. Too old for this kind of shit, and that was sad, I missed it.

  “Dad’s a frog!” Ruby squealed. “And he’s coming to get us! Run! Run, Mia!”

  And to my surprise Mia did run, squealing and laughing and pulling her sister along with her as I ribbited down the hallway after them.

  I’d stashed all my new undies safely at the back of the drawer long before Darren dropped the kids back on Sunday. They arrived after teatime, and as usual they looked bloody exhausted, Ruby’s hair all fluffed up like she’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. Still, as long as they were happy.

  They gave me a quick kiss before they went to dump their things upstairs, leaving me standing in the doorway with Darren, feeling more than slightly uncomfortable given the amount of the weekend I’d spent imagining getting down and dirty with him and four of his filthy friends.

  He didn’t seem to pick up on it, and if he did, he certainly didn’t say anything.

  Part of me wanted to just to blurt it out and get it over with, drop in a casual how do I book in? before the girls were even back down the stairs. But I didn’t. Of course I didn’t.

  Darren leaned in and looked beyond me. My skin prickled while he made sure the coast was clear. I wondered what he was about to say, my heart soaring with ridiculous notions.

  It was none of them, of course.

  “There’s been gossip, at school,” he told me, his voice low. I’d feared it would crop up at some point, and let out a sigh. “It’s alright,” he said. “I’ve talked through things with the girls.”

  “What did they know?”

  He took his cigarettes from his pocket, stepped back on the porch to light one up. I stepped out after him, pulled the door closed behind.

  “Ruby asked me what a gigolo was, then asked me how come I was doing the icky stuff with everyone in the village.”

  “Oh my God, Darren,” I groaned. “What did you say?”

  He shrugged. “I told her the truth, that I’d done the icky stuff with Mandy Taylor but it was a mistake. Told her I wasn’t going to be kissing anyone else in the village.”

  “But you…” I pulled a face, completely unsure where this kind of stuff landed amongst best parenting practice. “I mean, I know you can’t tell the truth, but to lie…”

  His eyes narrowed. “Who’s fucking lying?”

  “Well, aren’t you..?” I shook my head. “Never mind, sorry. I don’t know. It’s none of my business. Just as long as the girls are ok.”

  He took a drag. “Ruby didn’t know about the money, neither of the girls did. That’s a saving grace, at least.”

  “Let’s hope it stays that way.”

  “Should do, I’ve made it pretty clear around the village where people need to be coming if they’ve got anything to say. They can say it to me, not whisper about the pissing place.”

  I nodded. “Good. Hopefully that’s the end of it, then.”

  He grunted at me, and then the kids were back, already arguing whose turn it was on the laptop.

  They took a break in negotiations to say goodbye to their dad, then disappeared into the living room to get Nanna’s take on their dilemma.

  “I’d best be going,” Darren said.

  “Thanks for having them,” I said.

  “Pleasure,” he said.

  “Ok, then,” I smiled.

  “Right, then,” he smiled back.

  “I’ll see you… around.”

  “Be seeing you.”

  He didn’t look back, but my heart raced like a fucking horse until his truck was out of sight.

  Disappointed. I was so fucking disappointed.

  In myself.

  Because I hadn’t asked him, and I’d wanted to. Shit, I’d really wanted to.

  I should have just dropped it in, should have said…

  I took a deep breath, pulled myself together.

  Tomorrow, I thought. No dicking about, just a straight question. Where could possibly be the harm in that? Just a customer, like any other customer… why shouldn’t I be?

  I went back inside to referee laptop-wars before they drove poor Nanna to the brandy.

  I toyed with doing it by text, but that seemed so chicken-shit, and the thought of giving Darren the chance to formulate a rejection was more than I could bear. Maybe I should have opted for a quick call, called him at the garage and booked it in just like a car repair. I mean, that’s what everyone else was probably doing, right?

  I didn’t fucking know.

  Urgh.

  I gave ladies-who-lunch a miss this week, opting for the extra hours. It appears nobody else much fancied it either, as there was no sign of Mandy, Debbie or Steph at our usual allotted time. I served our other Monday morning customers with my usual smile, and slowly but surely the string of compliments and impressed g
rins worked their magic on me. My confidence grew, little by little, and by lunchtime I was determined. Now or never, make or break. No big deal.

  It’s not as if I didn’t know him. Of course I knew him. And this was just a business transaction. How wrong could it possibly go?

  A text message came in from Tonya.

  Is it done yet? All booked in?

  On my way to the booking office, I replied, wish me luck. This is your fault if it all goes wrong.

  You’ll be thanking me later, she said.

  I bloody hoped so.

  I’d thought about it at length over the weekend. Hell, truth be told I’d hardly thought about anything else. I can’t say that the thought of spending Pop Pop’s inheritance money on a five-man orgy filled me with a massive amount of pride, but it was true to the sentiment in his instructions. It would surely be an experience of a lifetime, for good or for bad.

  I just hoped Darren would appreciate my perspective on that.

  There was no Porsche outside the garage when I pulled up – thank fuck for that. The garage itself was relatively quiet, the usual jam of cars stacked up waiting for their turn, but no customers in sight. I pulled up in front of the shutters, and felt eyes on me, all five pairs of them. Shit.

  Darren stepped outside, armed with his usual intense stare, and I nearly crapped my new frilly knickers and reversed the car straight out of there. I took a breath, plastered on a big smile as I turned off the ignition. He’d lit up a cigarette by the time I’d made my way over. He puffed away with his eyes on me.

  I heard a chorus of wolf whistles behind him, and he shot a godawful glare over his shoulder, slapped his palm against the shutters.

  “Knock it off,” he barked, then he turned back to me. “Something up?”

  My smile was too big, much too big. “No. Well, maybe…”

  “What?” he said, and he looked worried. “Is it the girls?”

  I felt like a tit. “No!” I said. “No, nothing like that. It’s about me.”

  “What about you? Something wrong?”

  I took a breath. Jesus. This had seemed so much easier in my head. “I’m fine,” I said. “I have a… question… it’s nothing major, no big deal…”

  “Too big a deal for a text, it seems.”

  “It’s more…” I stepped closer. “Personal…”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Personal?”

  I closed my eyes. Now or never. “I want to book in for a service,” I said. “A special service. I mean, if it’s good enough for Mandy Taylor and that blonde woman in the Porsche it’s good enough for me.” I was in flow and I couldn’t stop. “I’m a woman, Darren, the same as them. I have fantasies. I have… needs. I may not be as… obvious as they are, but I’m as up for this shit as anyone else in the village, and if they’re all doing it then why can’t I?” I paused. “I mean, I can, can’t I? You don’t need to be… some kind of…”

  “Slut?” he said.

  I held up a finger. “I was going to say supermodel, but slut will do.” I smiled. “So, how about it? Do you have a diary… or….”

  His expression was like thunder, his jaw hard. My bravado deflated, drooped like a saggy tit.

  “No,” he said. Just like that. “No fucking way.”

  I’m sure I gulped like a fish, and then I asked the most basic question in the whole universe, delivered without any finesse whatsoever. “Why not?”

  “You’re not signing up for a fucking gangbang, Jo, no fucking way.” His voice was raised, and I caught Buck turn his head from the corner of my eye. I felt the heat rising up, not just the burn of my cheeks, this heat was all over me, prickling my arms, my chest, as though every part of me was glowing beetroot.

  “But I…” I started. “I’ve thought this through. It’s what I want. Why can’t I?” My confidence dissipated and I felt small and pathetic. I remembered Porsche-bitch’s dismissive glance, Mandy Taylor’s glee as she told me how fucking amazing it was. I held my ground regardless of how shitty it felt. “Mandy Taylor isn’t all that, Trent, and neither was that blonde you had here. If they’re bloody acceptable then why aren’t I?”

  He shook his head. “It’s got nothing to do with being fuckable, Jodie. That’s what you fucking mean, isn’t it? Like we pick out the fucking hot ones. Like there’s some fucking merit system, nice fucking tits, let’s give her a go. We don’t give a fuck about that. I don’t give a fuck about that.”

  “Then what?” I felt the beginnings of anger. “What has it got to do with?”

  He stubbed out his cigarette. “Just no.”

  The little plume of anger was blooming, shooting right up my spine. “Just no?!”

  “Just no!” he snapped, and turned tail. “I’m not booking you in for a fucking gangbang, end of fucking story.”

  I folded my arms. “But you will book Mandy Taylor in for one? What’s so special about Mandy fucking Taylor, Trent? Why can she pay for a good fucking time but I can’t? My money’s as good as hers!”

  He stopped in his tracks, and he was simmering, absolutely seething. I knew this look well. We’d argued like this more times than I cared to remember, when things were going tits up all around us and we couldn’t agree on any-fucking-thing anymore. “What money?” he said. “How do you think you’re going to pay for this shit, Jo? It’s not like a bastard TV subscription, we’re talking hundreds of fucking pounds, you saw that fucking box of mine.”

  I felt my resolve faltering. I couldn’t even say the words, and he knew, he fucking knew.

  I think I preferred his angry face to this one. This one was horrible. Shock, disappointment. Maybe a bit of disgust. He had some fucking cheek, but I didn’t feel that, I just felt the shame.

  “Don’t say it, don’t even fucking think it,” he said. “That’s not for this. He wouldn’t have wanted this. Fucking hell, Jo, what the fuck?”

  “He would have wanted me to live, Darren. How I choose to live is up to me.”

  “Fine, live. But I won’t be a fucking part of this shit. You won’t be getting your kicks here.”

  Be damned if I was going to back down now. I willed myself to stay calm, to stay cool, to stay anything but the embarrassed little Jodie whose confidence was taking a battering when it was just getting started. “And you speak for everyone, do you?”

  He stared right at me. “Yes. I fucking do.”

  I took a step forward, cleared my throat. “How about it, guys?” I shouted. “If it’s good enough for Mandy, how about letting me have a go? I can pay!”

  I waited. And waited. My eyes wandered from face to face, and yet none of them would meet my stare. They were all looking at Trent, every single one of them.

  I smiled a bitter smile, mainly to hide my upset. “Oh, I get it,” I said. “It’s like that.” I turned back to Darren. “You really are the head honcho. Guess it feels good to be the big I am, casting judgement on who’s good enough to have a go.”

  “It’s not like that,” he said, but he was still angry, and so was I.

  “Fine,” I said, and I was already on my way back to the car. “I’ll find some other guys who’ll give me a good time. You can’t be the only fucking gigolos around. The internet’s a fucking wonderful thing.”

  I slammed the car door behind me, and got the hell out of there.

  I got back to the Land Rover on the ramp, launching a kick at pile of tyres as I went. Fucking hell. Just what the fucking hell?

  My temples were pounding, jaw so tight I had an annoying twitch flickering away. My anger was low and hard, bubbling under the surface like a fucking volcano about to blow.

  The guys left me well alone for an hour or so, and it was Buck who brought me a cup of tea over. I guess Petey was too fucking scared.

  “Wanna talk about it?” he said, propping himself against the rig.

  “No,” I snapped. “Not fucking really.”

  Buck didn’t give a shit. “That was well fucking off, mate. She had a point.”

  “And what f
ucking point would that be?”

  He shrugged. “We’re normally not so fucking picky. She knows it. We know it. She wants a go and why shouldn’t she? Everyone else in this poxy village is after some.”

  “She’s different.”

  He nodded. “Alright, but how so? You’ve been split a long fucking time, mate.”

  “She just is,” I barked. “Leave it, Buck. Just fucking leave it.”

  He slapped a hand on my shoulder before he left me to it. “I think you’re making a mistake. You ain’t gonna want to hear this shit, but I’m going to say it anyway. I’ve known Jodie a long time, we all have. You tore her a new asshole out there for wanting what everyone else wants, for wanting to live a fucking fantasy. And why shouldn’t she? Why the fuck shouldn’t she, Trent? We’ve taken enough money from women in her shoes, why not offer her the same fucking courtesy?”

  “As if it’s about fucking courtesy. Are you that fucking greedy for the money?” I stormed away, practically swung the office door from its hinges. I grabbed a wedge of notes from the till. Buck didn’t even flinch as I threw them in his direction. “If you’re that desperate for the fucking cash, Buck, then take it and get the fuck out of my face for the rest of the fucking day.”

  Buck gathered up the notes with a sigh. He tapped them on the side, lined them all up, then left them there. He held up his hands. “Alright, I’ll leave it. Just forget I said anything.”

  As if I’d be able to forget about this fucking mess anytime soon.

  He got back to work without another word, and so did I.

  I heard nothing from Darren for three days. I dropped the girls at the yard after school and he dropped them outside the house when they were ready to come home. That was it, no texts, no polite conversation on the front doorstep, nothing.

  I saw him through the cafe window on Thursday lunchtime, making his way to the village shop for cigarettes no doubt, but he didn’t even glance in my direction, and I made damned sure I wouldn’t have been looking his way if he had.

  Tonya said he was jealous. I told her that was ridiculous. It wasn’t me who’d wanted to marry the next person I hooked up with in his wake. It wasn’t me who was fucking the whole fucking village without a care in the world.