Bang Gang

I opted to let it slide until we were back at home. I met Tonya’s eyes and she read my intention, made a couple of yum noises and said how good the bacon was.

Lorraine delivered another rack of toast. She looked me over with a smile.

“You look tired. Late night?”

Tonya answered for me. “We went out,” she said. “Girls’ night. Late. Just for a couple.”

Lorraine let out an exaggerated groan. “Girls’ night?! And where was my invite? I haven’t been out for ages.”

I felt like such a fraud. A dirty stop out. “It was only a last minute thing,” I said. “Nothing major.”

“Some other time,” Lorraine said. “Don’t go having all the fun without me!”

I saw Tonya’s eyes light up. “Next weekend!” she said. “Let’s hit the town, all three of us.”

I tried to protest but Lorraine was straight on it. “That works for me,” she said.

“Jodie?” Tonya asked. “Come on! It’ll be fun. Trent’s having the girls, no?”

Well, he was… but…

“It’ll be fun!” Lorraine said. “Nothing like a few drinks and bit of dancing to let your hair down.”

They both stared at me, smiles too big to ignore.

“Alright,” I said. “I’ll drive, though.”

“Oh no you won’t!” Tonya said. “We’ll get a taxi, do it properly.”

“A taxi,” Lorraine said. “Definitely! You have to drink with us, Jodie.”

I sighed, smiled back at them. I hadn’t hit the town in years, couldn’t even imagine it. Then again, I wouldn’t have imagined myself paying for a five-man gangbang a few weeks back, either. “Alright. You’ve twisted my arm.”

“We’re on!” Lorraine said. “Saturday night, dress to impress.”

At least these days I had something vaguely impressive to dress in. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

The village was busy when we piled out of the cafe. Tonya lit up a cigarette and I rubbed my bloated tummy, and together we stood at the roadside contemplating our next move.

Mia stepped away from us as a Skype call came in from Daisy, and Ruby was a few metres away checking out a posh silver Audi parked next to the kerb. Neither were in earshot. Not if we were quiet.

“You gonna tell him?” Tonya said. “About this Mia stuff?”

I’d been waiting for it. “No,” I said. “The last thing we need is Darren blowing a fuse and going after some high school kid.”

“Tyler Dean’s hardly a kid, Jo. He turned sixteen a few weeks back, saw the announcement in the paper. His mum’s the redhead from Abbey Dore tearooms. You know the one I mean. Annoying laugh.” She gave an impression.

“Vaguely.”

“His dad lives over your way, Elmcroft. The house on the corner. Only has the lad at weekends.”

“You seem to know enough about them.”

She smiled. “You’re not the only one with the village A to Z committed to memory. I do work in the chippy, you know.” Tonya shrugged. “You should tell Trent. Might put an end to it. Kid’s upset, you can see it.”

I felt guilty. I should have seen it, should have seen through all Mia’s bravado. “I’ll go to the school,” I said. “Sort it out with the teachers. They’ll know what to do.”

“They’ll probably give him some counselling, ask him nicely not to be such a naughty boy.”

“They’ll have policies, procedures,” I insisted. “They’ll know what they’re doing, they probably deal with this kind of shit all the time.”

Tonya wasn’t convinced. “He’s a local lad with local parents, doesn’t need the school to sort this crap out, Jo. Trent would sort it in five minutes flat. You know he would.”

“Yes,” I snapped. “And how, exactly? By kicking off? Giving the kid a slap? Mouthing off in front of the whole village?” I lowered my voice. “I’ve dealt with enough Darren Trent gossip these past few weeks without another fresh load on top. I could do without it. So could the girls.”

She held up her hands. “Fair enough. It was just a thought.”

“I know,” I said. “Thanks. I appreciate the concern, I just…”

“It’s alright,” she said. “Handle it your way. I’m sure the school will sort it.”

I hoped so. The idea of more drama filled me with dread.

“A bit of peace would be nice,” I laughed. “Just a bit. A quiet life for a while.”

But there was no chance of that.

I heard a gruff voice barking out some choice words about a rotten little vandal. I turned on instinct, and sure enough the vandal was my freckle-faced daughter. She was facing up to the owner of the Audi – a skinny old posh guy in a suit. I didn’t know him.

I groaned and dashed over with Tonya behind me, grabbing Ruby by the arm before she could antagonise him any further.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “What’s going on?”

He was flummoxed, exasperated. Pissed off. “Your daughter kicked my car!” he snapped. “It’s disgraceful! You should keep her under control! Do you have any idea how much this car’s worth?!”