“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.”