by Jade West
She turned on her heel and hurried away, and I went to follow her until Tonya landed me with the punch meant for Lorraine.
“You’re a stupid fucking wanker,” she snapped. “I thought you’d have better taste than that shrivelled up old fucking slut.”
“This isn’t what it fucking looks like!” I said again. “Tonya, just fucking listen to me.”
But she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t even hear me out.
“Leave her alone,” she said. “Just leave her the fuck alone, Trent.”
I followed her out to the car, but it was already running. Jodie wouldn’t even look at me. I knocked on her window, but she pulled away as soon as Tonya was in the passenger seat.
“Jodie!” I called. “Jodie, this isn’t fucking right! I don’t want Lorraine, I never fucking have! I fucking swear it!”
She pulled away so quickly that she showered me in gravel.
I was shaking. Really shaking.
I took a seat at the kitchen table and Tonya put the kettle on. I could’ve done with something much stronger.
The girls knew something was up, asked me a load of questions that I answered with a fake smile and a nothing’s wrong, girls.
They gave it a rest after a while, and laptop wars resumed as normal. I let it slide for now, content that the voices were far enough through the house that they wouldn’t hear us talking.
Tonya handed me a tea and sat down opposite. “I can’t believe it. Lorraine! What an absolute skank.”
“She hates him… she always has… I just can’t…” I shook my head. “I cried on her shoulder so many times, Tonya. Told her everything. Everything.”
“Turns out she had her own fucking agenda, doesn’t it?”
I kept breathing, kept calm for the sake of the girls and the plus-one in my belly. “I knew he was a gigolo. I knew the shit he does. I just… Lorraine.”
Tonya waggled her finger. “Uh, no way, Jo. No fucking way. Don’t make excuses for him, this crap was well out of order. Well out of order. I mean that stupid cow Mandy was one thing, but Lorraine?! Your boss Lorraine, your friend Lorraine. He should have fessed up about this shit long before now.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t ask. I didn’t push him.”
“You shouldn’t have had to ask, Jodie. He should fucking know better.”
“She said years.” I put my head in my hands. “It’s been going on years and I didn’t even know it.”
“So she says.”
I met her eyes. “I saw it in his face, Tonya. It’s been going on years, believe me.”
“Well, more fool him. More fool her, too. There’s no doubt she was paying for it.” She paused. “You do know that, right? He clearly hasn’t got feelings for her. This is just a job to him.”
I didn’t know anything. Didn’t even know where to begin working out what I did actually know. I shrugged.
She sighed. “He wants you, Jodie. He’s a fucking idiot, but he wants you.”
“I’m not so sure about that.”
“He said he thought you’d be there… that’s why he was there.”
“I told him I’d be there.” His messages flashed in my mind and I groaned. “Shit. He asked me if I was at Lorraine’s seedy sex party. I thought he was just being funny.”
“She planned this.” Tonya scowled. “All of it. Everything. She knew he was gonna be there. She set you up… set him up.”
The betrayal smarted. It really fucking hurt. “Why would she do that?”
“I guess she wants him. I guess he’s not such a useless disgrace of a man after all.”
The thought of her having him made me feel sick. The whole thing made me feel sick. “I trusted her.”
“Yeah, well, maybe he did, too.”
I shook my head. “If he’s been seeing her for years it must mean something.”
“Money under his bed, that’s what it means.”
“Maybe.”
“Definitely.” She took a sip of tea. “You gonna talk to him?”
I shook my head. “Not yet. I’ve got to think first.”
“Think about what?”
I shrugged. “About me, the girls, the baby… about how we’re going to cope without the cafe wage. About getting over him.”
“Is that what you want?” She looked so horrified.
“No, of course not. But I can’t… not now I’ve seen it… not now I know what this gigolo stuff actually means. I can’t walk down the street and pretend it’s ok. I can’t turn a blind eye and pretend it doesn’t matter to me if he’s fucking for money every night of the week. I can’t pretend that knowing he’s been fucking Lorraine for years doesn’t make a difference. It makes a difference. I don’t think I can even look at her again, not ever.”
She let out a sigh. “She’s really fucked things up for you.”
“Maybe they were fucked up anyway and I just didn’t know it.”
“Sounds like you think she’s done you a fucking favour, Jodie.”
I felt the venom, my hands shaking again. “Oh no, no. I don’t think she’s done me a fucking favour, Tonya. She’s dead to me. She’s no friend of mine.”
“Good,” she said.
I looked at the clock. “I’d better get those girls to bed.” She squeezed my hand as I stood from the table.
The girls went about their bedtime routine without too much backchat, and I was grateful. I think any extra hassle would have sent me over the edge.
Nanna must have sensed something was wrong. She took herself off to bed early and gave me a nice big hug on the way.
I pottered around as usual, doing the girls’ lunch boxes and feeding the cat.
“Just stop, Jo,” Tonya said. “Give yourself a break.”
“Life goes on,” I said. “Just got to keep on keeping on.”
“No,” she said. “You fucking don’t, Jodie. Just give yourself a bit of time, will you?”
I stopped wiping down the side and stood for a minute, and it hit me. It really hit me. Single, jobless, and pregnant.
Oh my fucking God.
“I can’t believe this is happening…” I said, and felt the tears springing up. “I’m such an idiot for thinking we could make this work… for hoping we could start over…”
“You aren’t an idiot.” She let out a groan. “He is. He’s the idiot.”
“I really thought this could be something…”
She was about to speak when there was a knock on the front door. My heartrate rocketed, and I felt sick, dizzy at the thought of a showdown.
“I’ll get it,” Tonya said. She pointed at the table. “Sit. Relax. I’ll deal with this, don’t you fucking worry.”
I didn’t have the energy to argue with her.
Tonya stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind her before I could say a word.
“You’ve got some fucking nerve, showing up here right now.”
I took out my cigarettes and she held out her hand. I gave her the pack and she took one for herself, lit up with my lighter before she handed them back.
“I need to see her,” I said. “This isn’t as it fucking seems.”
“Have you been fucking Lorraine, yes or no?”
“Yeah,” I said. “But not…”
She shook her head. “Then it’s as it fucking seems, Trent. You’re fucking her friend, her fucking boss. That skank set her up, made a fucking idiot out of her. You let that happen.”
“Like I had any fucking idea what that bitch was up to.”
She shrugged. “How many years have you been fucking that skanky old cow?”
I took a drag. “What does that matter?”
“It matters a fucking lot, Trent. How long?”
I fought the urge to smash my fist into the brickwork. “I don’t fucking know, wasn’t keeping tabs. Three years maybe.”
“Three fucking years?!”
“Since I did the fucking calendar,” I said. “Since Jo got with Brian.”
“Jesus Christ.�
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“Yeah, well, it was a fucking mistake, wasn’t it?”
She glared at me. “No. The fucking mistake was keeping it from Jodie when you two got back involved. You should have fucking said something.”
“Said what? I’ve been fucking your fucking boss and she’s been paying for it? Hope that’s fucking ok? Yeah right, Tonya. Get fucking real. She’d have run for the fucking hills.”
“Like now you mean?”
The thought hit me in the gut. “That’s how she feels, is it?”
She sighed. “Of course that’s how she fucking feels, Trent! Can you blame her? She walked in on you getting your end away with a load of skanky bitches she knows! People she sees every fucking day at the cafe!”
“I wasn’t getting my fucking end away with anyone, Tonya. I turned up there for Jo. Lorraine told me you two were going to her seedy fucking sex party, I could hardly fucking believe it myself.”
“Not that kind of fucking sex party. Jo thought we were going to buy fucking sex toys, for you and her! I did, too!” She shook her head. “Well, it doesn’t look too fucking good, does it? That sour old bitch was hanging off your fucking dick, Trent, plain as day.”
“A set up,” I snapped. “It was a fucking set up.” I met her eyes. “Can I see her?”
“And what are you gonna say, huh? Sorry I fucked your friend, for three fucking years? I should have told you?”
I shrugged, and I had no answer. I didn’t fucking know.
“She needs to stay calm,” Tonya said. “For the girls and Nanna.” She paused. “This is gonna fuck her up, she needs some fucking time.”
“I should just fuck off then, should I?” My voice was so bitter. “Wait for a call from her that never fucking comes?”
Tonya’s voice was more bitter than mine. “Yes, Trent, you should just fuck off and wait and see what she wants to fucking do, if fucking anything! Have a bit of fucking respect!”
I looked at the door behind her, contemplated just bursting in. But Tonya was right. Jo needed to stay calm, get her fucking bearings. Needed to decide if she ever wanted to see a stupid piece of shit like me ever again.
“Alright,” I said. “I’ll go. But tell her to call me, yeah? You will tell her?”
She glared at me. “I’ll tell her what you said, but she’s not gonna just roll over and play doormat, Darren, she’s fucking hurt. Shocked and hurt.”
“Tell her I’m fucking sorry, alright?”
“I’ll pass it on.”
“Righto,” I said.
Fuck.
Fuck all this.
My throat burned with words I wanted to say. So many fucking words, but none of them would mean shit. Not now.
“I’ll be off then,” I said.
“Good,” she said. “It’s for the best.”
Not for me it fucking wasn’t.
Lorraine called first thing in the morning, and again, and again, and again, over and over leaving messages about how she hoped I was ok, and how she was sorry I found out like that. She hoped I’d be in to work in the afternoon. Like I’d ever set foot in that fucking cafe again.
I had plenty to do to keep me busy around the house. I told Nanna I had a stomach bug and had called in sick.
“Take it easy then!” she’d said, then tutted when I’d got the ironing board out.
A baby. I was having a baby.
The thought seemed so daunting yet so surreal all in one. I couldn’t imagine being a new mum again. Couldn’t imagine running around after the girls with a little one in my arms.
I’d been so stupid, caught up in some silly fairy tale of me and Darren Trent. I should’ve learned my lesson the first time round.
I got a call from the garage number at lunchtime. I ignored it.
I got a call from a random local number I didn’t recognise, and I ignored that, too.
A voicemail played Darren’s voice, and it was so typically him that I put my phone on silent and chucked it in the kitchen drawer.
Call me, Jo, yeah? I just want to fucking talk to you.
I figured that was as good as it was going to get from him.
I’d have to get through this shit on my own.
In the short term I could survive on Pops’ money. So much for the experience of a lifetime. Paying the bills would have to be hedonistic enough for now. It would see me through for a while, and then maybe I could get another local job, just until the baby came, and then… then I could…
I didn’t fucking know what would happen after that.
I stared at myself in the mirror as I passed by with a load of washing and could’ve cried at the sad woman staring back at me. I looked washed out again, drained again, stressed again. I looked like a frump again.
I dropped the washing on the floor and reached for my foundation. I couldn’t let myself go, not now, not when I’d just learned to live again.
Things would be different this time, I’d make it so.
And in the meantime I’d just keep on keeping on.
Just like I’d always done before.
A string of voicemails went unanswered. Call me, Jo, please. Just fucking talk to me. Jo? Jo, just pick up the fucking phone please. This isn’t how it fucking seems.
I didn’t go round there again, not with the girls and Nanna home.
It tore me apart to pretend life was normal, to shake customers’ hands and show interest in their stupid fucking cars.
I didn’t see the girls. Didn’t dare interrupt their timetables, not this week.
It wouldn’t have been so fucking weird once upon a time, but now it was fucking torture.
I’d felt so close to having them back, so fucking close. But I’d blown it. I’d really fucking blown it.
All because I’d believed Lorraine’s fucking bullshit.
All because I hadn’t said what I really fucking meant. All because I hadn’t put myself out there.
All because I’m a fucking idiot.
Friday dragged like a sonofabitch. Buck slapped me on the back at close of play and I’d barely even noticed the day go by.
“You coming out tonight? Couple down the Drum?”
I’d been in the Drum last night until closing, stumbling across the street just to crash on the sofa until morning. What difference would a re-run make?
“Alright,” I said.
“Gonna get yourself a beard like mine if you don’t get a razor on it, Trent.”
I answered with a grunt and he sighed.
“I’ll see you down there,” I said.
I staggered back to my place at closing and crashed on the sofa for the second time running. I woke up the next day and couldn’t even be fucked to move. It wasn’t my weekend with the girls. Wasn’t my weekend to take them to the bonfire night celebration on the school playing field and buy them sparklers like I had the year before.
Wasn’t my weekend to be there.
I flicked through the channels and a rerun of Top Gear put a lump in my throat. I went into the girls’ room and made their beds, sat there for a while just thinking. Just fucking moping.
I tried Jodie’s number and it went straight to voicemail. I left another message.
Please, Jodie. I’m really fucking sorry.
She didn’t call back.
I forced myself to have a shave and a shower. Forced myself to chuck on some clean clothes and get out through the door.
I couldn’t face the bonfire celebrations – families everywhere I fucking looked – so I headed back into the Drum and propped myself at the bar.
Buck joined me at seven, the others arriving soon after. I was already well on my way.
“Christ, Trent, you been in here all fucking night or something?” Buck looked worried, like a soft fucking idiot. “Can’t you just go round and fucking see her?”
I shook my head. “Nah. She doesn’t want to see a cunt like me, mate.”
He slapped my shoulder. “Want me to have a word?”
I flashed him a glare. “Wh
at’s that supposed to fucking mean?”
He raised his hands. “I mean have a fucking word, Trent. On your fucking behalf. Chill your fucking boots, will you? Pissing hell.”
“No need,” I said. “It’s fucked, mate.”
“If you say so.”
I ordered another fucking beer.
I put a face on it but I was shaking like a leaf. I could feel Tonya staring at me as I checked my makeup for the hundredth time.
“It’s dark, Jodie, nobody is gonna bloody see you.”
“I see me,” I said. “I’m doing it for me.”
Bonfire night was an event I couldn’t get out of, not with two girls who go crazy for sparklers and rockets and fresh doughnuts. Nanna was determined she wasn’t coming this year. She could see the fireworks from the garden well enough, she claimed. I didn’t have the energy to argue with her.
“Coats!” I said to the girls. “Scarves! Boots, too! It’ll be muddy!”
They were a whirlwind of groans and impatience, just wanted to get the hell out to the celebrations. Like there was anything to celebrate.
I chided myself. They were kids, they had everything to celebrate, they had life to celebrate. And so had I. New life. The very beginning of a brand new person in my belly.
I wrapped up warm, and Tonya linked arms with me on the way.
“She won’t be there,” she whispered. “Even she doesn’t have that much fucking gall.”
“And if she is?”
She smirked, pulled me close. “And if she is you can give her a slap again. I’ll give her one right after you.”
I rested my head on her shoulder. “Thanks, Tonya.”
I ignored the nerves in my belly. Ignored the nerves everywhere. We’d have to pass Darren’s place on the way, have to pass right by the Drum, too. The likelihood he wouldn’t be in either was slim to nil.
Unless he was Bang Ganging.
The thought still made me feel sick.
I took a breath. He probably wouldn’t even see us, probably wouldn’t care if he did. I hadn’t seen him since Lorraine’s house. He hadn’t been near since Tonya sent him packing. I’d stopped listening to his voicemails and he hadn’t turned up in person.
