Bang Gang (6 page)

She paused for just a second. “Busted?”

I sighed. Did my best to sound serious. “Did you use a garage word at school the other day?”

A pause and then a shrug. “Might have done.”

“Remember what we said about garage talk?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Garage talk stays in the garage.”

I tried my best not to smile. “And why does it stay in the garage?”

She sighed. “Because people get all butt-hurt if you say bad words in front of them.”

I had to laugh at that. “Who’s
got butt-hurt now, do you think?”

“Miss Davies.”

“And who else?”

“Mum.”

“And what does your mum do when she gets all butt-hurt? Who does she come and moan at?”

She kicked her feet in the footwell. “You.”

“Yeah, that’s right. And then
I
have to moan at
you,
and we don’t want to be dealing with this shit, do we?”

She shook her head.

“So, where’s the place for butt-hurt words?”

“The garage,” she answered in a beat.

“And when’s the time for garage words?”

She looked right at me. “When Mum’s not there.”

“Right.” I smiled. “We sorted here?”

She nodded. “Yeah.”

I ruffled her hair. “Good girl.” I headed over to the garage and Ruby stared out of the window.
“When you’re an adult you can butt-hurt whoever you like.”

She grinned. “Like you do?!”

I grinned, too. “Yeah, like I do.”

She sighed and folded her arms. “I can’t wait until I’m a grown up and I can butt-hurt Sophie Green.”

I pulled up at the bus stop to wait for Mia, and grabbed my mobile, scrolled until I found Jodie’s text.

Mine to her was simple. Like always.

Sorted
, it said.

I watched Ruby with Buck, passing him tools as he worked on Clare Evan’s old Mercedes. I watched the concentration on her face as she stared at what he was doing, soaking it all in like a sharp little sponge. Usually I’d help out, tell her the extra details, answer her questions, but today I was sorting tyres with Mia, prompting her on the finer details of high school life.

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.