Bang Gang - Page 11

And then Mia came, and Ruby after her, and then I knew I was wrong.

As much as I loved their mother — and fuck, I loved their mother — I’d have thrown us both to the fucking wolves if those girls needed it.

That’s love.

I also didn’t come up with that shit. Some celebrity guy came up with it and I read it in some crappy newspaper somewhere down the line, but that’s beside the point. The guy who said it could have reached inside my heart and found exactly the same feeling. He just said it first, and said it better than I would have.

I’m not so good with words.

I waited, and waited, and Ruby kept jabbering on to her teacher, barely watching the path ahead. And then she saw me, and that toothy grin grew bigger.

“Daddddd!”

She was still a bit gangly, awkward feet pounding the tarmac until she launched herself right at me. I scooped her up, and she hung around my neck, hoisted herself up on my hip and started her school day monologue about dinosaurs and making a cup out of foil and how she’d fallen out with Sophie Green at lunchtime.

I dropped her at the truck and she shot round the other side, clambered up into the passenger seat, where her feet hung far above the footwell. She clipped her belt, pulled her pink sunglasses from the glovebox and grinned at me as I climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Where’s Mum?”

“Work,” I said. “Extra shift.”

“Cool,” she said, just like that. “Can I come to the garage?”

“Sure,” I said, and then I had to do the deed. I cleared my throat before I pulled away from the school. I gave her a look as I indicated out of the street. “You’ve been busted, Rubes.”

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.

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