Bang Gang (51 page)

Lorraine called first thing in the morning, and again, and again, and again, over and over leaving messages about how she
hoped I was ok
, and how
she was sorry I found out like that
. She hoped I’d be in to work in the afternoon. Like I’d ever set foot in that fucking cafe again.

I had plenty to do to keep me busy around the house. I told Nanna I had a stomach bug and had called in sick.

“Take it easy then!” she’d said, then tutted when I’d got the ironing board out.

A baby. I was having a baby.

The thought seemed so daunting yet so surreal all in one. I couldn’t imagine being a new mum again. Couldn’t imagine running around
after the girls with a little one in my arms.

I’d been so stupid, caught up in some silly fairy tale of me and Darren Trent. I should’ve learned my lesson the first time round.

I got a call from the garage number at lunchtime. I ignored it.

I got a call from a random local number I didn’t recognise, and I ignored that, too.

A voicemail played Darren’s voice, and it was so typically him that I put my phone on silent and chucked it in the kitchen drawer.

Call me, Jo, yeah? I just want to fucking talk to you.

I figured that was as good as it was going to get from him.

I’d have to get through this shit on my own.

In the short term I could survive on Pops’ money. So much for the
experience of a lifetime
. Paying the bills would have to be hedonistic enough for now. It would see me through for a while, and then maybe I could get another local job, just until the baby came, and then… then I could…

I didn’t fucking know what would happen after that.

I stared at myself in the mirror as I passed by with a load of washing and could’ve cried at the sad woman staring back at me. I looked washed out again, drained again, stressed again. I looked like a frump again.

I dropped the washing on the floor and reached for my foundation. I couldn’t let myself go, not now, not when I’d just learned to live again.

Things would be different this time, I’d make it so.

And in the meantime I’d just keep on keeping on.

Just like I’d always done before.

A string of voicemails went unanswered.
Call me, Jo, please. Just fucking talk to me. Jo? Jo, just pick up the fucking phone please. This isn’t how it fucking seems.

I didn’t go round there again, not with the girls and Nanna home.

It tore me apart to pretend life was normal, to shake customers’ hands and show interest in their stupid fucking cars.

I didn’t see the girls. Didn’t dare interrupt their timetables, not this week.

It wouldn’t have been so fucking weird once upon a time, but now it was fucking torture.

I’d felt so close to having them back, so fucking close. But I’d blown it. I’d really fucking blown it.

All because I’d believed Lorraine’s fucking bullshit.

All because I hadn’t said what I really fucking meant. All because I hadn’t put myself out there.

All because I’m a fucking idiot.

Friday dragged like a sonofabitch. Buck slapped me on the back at close of play and I’d barely even noticed the day go by.

“You coming out tonight? Couple down the Drum?”

I’d been in the Drum last night until closing, stumbling across the street just to crash on the sofa until morning. What difference would a re-run make?

“Alright,” I said.

“Gonna get yourself a beard like mine if you don’t get a razor on it, Trent.”

I answered with a grunt and he sighed.

“I’ll see you down there,” I said.

I staggered back to my place at closing and crashed on the sofa for the second time running. I woke up the next day and couldn’t even be fucked to move. It wasn’t my weekend with the girls. Wasn’t my weekend to take them to the bonfire night celebration on the school playing field and buy them sparklers like I had the year before.

Wasn’t my weekend to be there.

I flicked through the channels and a rerun of
Top Gear
put a lump in my throat. I went into the girls’ room and made their beds, sat there for a while just thinking. Just fucking moping.

I tried Jodie’s number and it went straight to voicemail. I left another message.

Please, Jodie. I’m really fucking sorry.

She didn’t call back.

I forced myself to have a shave and a shower. Forced myself to chuck on some clean clothes and get out through the door.

I couldn’t face the bonfire celebrations – families everywhere I fucking looked – so I headed back into the Drum and propped myself at the bar.

Buck joined me at seven, the others arriving soon after. I was already well on my way.

“Christ, Trent, you been in here all fucking night or something?” Buck looked worried, like a soft fucking idiot. “Can’t you just go round and fucking see her?”

I shook my head. “Nah. She doesn’t want to see a cunt like me, mate.”

He slapped my shoulder. “Want me to have a word?”

I flashed him a glare. “What’s that supposed to fucking mean?”

He raised his hands. “I
mean
have a fucking
word
, Trent. On your fucking behalf. Chill your fucking boots, will you? Pissing hell.”

“No need,” I said. “It’s fucked, mate.”

“If you say so.”

I ordered another fucking beer.

I put a face on it but I was shaking like a leaf. I could feel Tonya staring at me as I checked my makeup for the hundredth time.

“It’s dark, Jodie, nobody is gonna bloody see you.”

“
I
see me,” I said. “I’m doing it for me.”

Bonfire night was an event I couldn’t get out of, not with two girls who go crazy for sparklers and rockets and fresh doughnuts. Nanna was determined she wasn’t coming this year. She could see the fireworks from the garden well enough, she claimed. I didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

“Coats!” I said to the girls. “Scarves! Boots, too! It’ll be muddy!”

They were a whirlwind of groans and impatience, just wanted to get the hell out to the celebrations. Like there was anything to celebrate.

I chided myself. They were kids, they had everything to celebrate, they had
life
to celebrate. And so had I. New life. The very beginning of a brand new person in my belly.

I wrapped up warm, and Tonya linked arms with me on the way.

“She won’t be there,” she whispered. “Even she doesn’t have that much fucking gall.”

“And if she is?”

She smirked, pulled me close. “And if she is you can give her a slap again. I’ll give her one right after you.”

I rested my head on her shoulder. “Thanks, Tonya.”

I ignored the nerves in my belly. Ignored the nerves everywhere. We’d have to pass Darren’s place on the way, have to pass right by the Drum, too. The likelihood he wouldn’t be in either was slim to nil.

Unless he was Bang Ganging.

The thought still made me feel sick.

I took a breath. He probably wouldn’t even see us, probably wouldn’t care if he did. I hadn’t seen him since Lorraine’s house. He hadn’t been near since Tonya sent him packing. I’d stopped listening to his voicemails and he hadn’t turned up in person.

No Casanova crying under my window at night.

Like he’d ever cared that much.

Keep on keeping on
.

The kids rushed ahead as we reached the centre of the village. I had to call them back, tell them to stay at my side.
It’ll be busy
, I said.
I’ll lose you in the crowd!

Mia had whinged that she wanted to find Daisy, but she was still bloody grounded so she could rock on with that idea.

I was alright until Ruby started up.

“Can we go call on Dad? He can come with us, right?”

I couldn’t find the words through the stupid lump in my throat. Tonya came to my rescue.

“Your dad’s probably busy, Ruby. See him another day, yeah?”

“But it’s fireworks night! He always comes to fireworks night!”