Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
“Kiss and make up,” Buck said. “It’s not worth falling out over this kind of shit, Trent. Jimmy’s alright, he’s just got a dirty fucking mouth on him.”
“Jimmy can kiss my fucking ass,” I said. “I’ll make it up when I’m good and ready.”
Buck slapped my shoulder. “Ain’t none of us after your fucking missus, Trent, it was just a fucking gig.”
“Jodie’s not my missus.”
He sighed. “Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that.” He gave me a jab in the arm. “Gotta get back to it, that bloody Rover isn’t gonna fix itself.”
I nodded.
Maybe I’d have calmed it down enough to make it up with Jimmy. Maybe I’d even have calmed it down enough to laugh at Petey’s little lube accident, too.
Maybe I’d have put the whole fucking situation behind me and got on with business as usual.
If only Eleanor Hartley’s fucking Porsche hadn’t pulled onto the yard.
Fuck it. Fuck all of it.
This time I was in my fucking truck and out of there before she’d even turned off the ignition.
I played it cool, even to myself, pretended that I wasn’t hoping for a text or a phone call, wasn’t hoping for him to pop in for another coffee or be waiting outside for me in his truck.
Of course he wouldn’t. It was a job and now it was done.
But it’d felt so real. He’d felt so real. So… there.
Maybe he felt like that with all of his clients. The thought made me nauseous.
Oh well, fuck it. Fuck all of it.
Same customers, same gossipy school mums every morning, same people to wave at and shout good morning to. Same old same old.
I got on with it with a smile on my face, same as every other week of my life. There are worse things in life than a bit of routine.
I heard from Mrs Webber that she’d had Tyler Dean’s mum in for a meeting the very same day, assuring me that she’d made it clear that bullying was not to be tolerated on the school bus. I breathed a sigh of relief at the news, thanking her for her prompt action. I relayed it to Mia with a smile, telling her it was all done now and she wouldn’t be getting any more trouble. Always the best way, I said. Speak up about your troubles and they’ll get sorted.
I just wish she’d have told me sooner, to save herself all the upset.
I still kept my eye on things, hanging on that few minutes longer at the bus stop to make sure the situation looked calm, but Tyler Dean and his friends never went within two metres of her, not while I was watching. They kept a seriously wide berth, and that brought a puff of self-righteousness to my chest – Mamma Bear at my finest. I hoped Mrs Webber had given those little dipshits quite a roasting.
In fact, I hoped they’d be in detention until the end of time. Serve the little assholes right.
“All’s well that ends well,” Tonya said. “Poor Mia, this should make those little bastards think twice before they open their mouths in future.”
“Definitely,” I said. “Mrs Webber takes this kind of thing very seriously. She told me so.”
We clinked coffee mugs, and life felt good again. The kids were all smiles, Ruby talking non-stop about this upcoming rally weekend, determined to drive me insane with her begging that we all go, all of us – even Nanna and Tonya. Like Nanna is going to cope on a bloody airbed, I said. Mia didn’t seem nearly so bothered about camping, knuckling down to her school test revision with the kind of dedication that made me proud. She didn’t even watch Question King with Nanna, just ate her dinner and went straight up to hit the revision.
I’d have to plan a celebratory meal out when she was done, maybe even get a cake. Maybe get Darren along, make a proper family thing out of it. A proper family thing. I laughed when I caught myself.
There was no proper family thing between me and Darren. A family thing between him and the girls, and me and the girls, but between us, no. Separated. We were separated. Long-time separated – even if the thought of being with him was still getting me off every night. Maybe sometimes in the morning, too.
So what if I was thinking about him sometimes during lulls at the cafe? So what if my tummy would tickle every time I thought about his face in mine?
So what about the other tickles… the dirty thoughts… the dirty thoughts that wouldn’t let up… not ever… not even knowing that he was probably fucking half the women in the village and barely giving me a second thought…
Luckily I had my girls’ night out to keep me occupied.
One epic night of drinks, dancing and good girly chatter, topped off nicely by the opportunity to wear my flash new bodycon dress.