"Noon at the latest," I said to the lads. "And we'll be staying late tonight on the back of it." I turned back to Eleanor. "Gotta go," I said. "I'll be seeing you."
I pulled down the shutters on the way out.
The Dog and Drum doesn't open til late on a Monday, so no chance for a sneaky pint while the lads were rutting Eleanor. I went home first, checked out cruddy daytime TV before I decided to ditch the overalls and head back out.
I had an hour or so to play it safe, I could have fired up my crappy old laptop and tackled some of my invoicing backlog from home, but I fancied a coffee, a decent one, not that instant shit I have at home.
That's how come I ended up face-to-face with Jodie over the Velvet Bean counter, and that's how come I ended up sharing the same fucking airspace as Mandy pissing Taylor and her gaggle of cock-starved cronies.
Tonya shot me a pained look as I walked in through the door, but I was already committed. I stared Mandy out on my way past, made it as clear that her gossipy shit wasn't welcome. She paid no pissing attention.
Whispers and giggles and a wave from Debbie Gibson. She'd been trying to book in for a week now, tried every bloody trick in the book, including a slow puncture that wasn't a bloody puncture at all.
Jodie felt awkward, I could see it in the blush on her neck. She was polite, too polite. Flashing me a quick smile before taking my order.
"Just a coffee," I said.
"Americano?"
"Whatever."
She met my eyes for just a second. "Not working?"
"Popped out."
"I see," she said. But she didn't, she didn't see at all.
Mandy's laugh roared through the place, some comment about going all night long. I shot the bitch a glare.
When I turned back to Jodie she was cringing, I could see it written all over her.
"Shall I tell her where to go?" I asked. "I don't mind telling her."
She shook her head. "Leave it," she said. "It's a cafe, she can laugh about whatever she likes as long as she's paying."
"She's not paying me," I said.
"That's not what she thinks," she replied. "Nor the others, since apparently they're in the queue."
I sighed, lowered my voice. "There is no fucking queue, Jo. They're full of shit."
"Whatever, Darren," she said. "It's really none of my business if they're in your bang gang club or not."
Her tone felt like a slap. "Fair enough."
She placed a take-out mug on the counter, one of those crappy polystyrene things. "Three pound twenty, please."
I guess I was having coffee to go.
I handed over the cash and she gave me a smile. Just another fucking customer, like she hadn't come on my face the night before last.
I guess it meant nothing to her, just a prelude to the main fucking event.
She busied herself with the coffee machine and I didn't budge. She looked nervous as she registered I was still waiting.
"What?" she said. "Did you want something else?"
"Sugar would be a start," I said.
She blushed. "Sorry. Shit. I didn't think you took sugar."
"Only for the past fifteen years."
She looked flummoxed as the coven at Mandy's table started laughing again. "Guess I must have forgotten, sorry. My bad." She handed over some sugar sachets and I emptied them into the cup. "I serve a lot of people a lot of coffees, Darren."
"I'm hardly a lot of people," I said. "You should know how I like my bloody coffee, Jodie, you made enough of them over the years."
She smiled. "I guess I did."
"I guess you did." I took my cup. "And I guess I'm taking this out."
Her face dropped. "Did you want to drink in? I didn't think … "
"No bother," I said, and stepped away.
She sighed. "Sorry, Darren … I should know this kind of crap."
I raised the cup to her. "Another time."
I'd taken a few steps toward the door by the time she spoke again. Her low laugh made my stomach lurch.
"Except I shouldn't know this kind of crap, should I?" She paused. "When did I last make you a coffee, Darren? Six, seven years ago? You always have tea, and you never have it here, not once in all the years I've been working here."
I turned back to her, played it cool. "I come here … "
She shook her head. "No. You don't."
I took a sip of coffee and gave her a nod. "It's good."
She gave me the first proper smile since I'd walked in, despite another uproar from Mandy's table.
"I'll make sure I give you your sugar next time."
So much I wanted to say, and none of it was about pissing sugar.
I don't want your sugar sachets, Jodie, I want your pussy on my fucking face. I want you to ride my dick until you squirt all over me. I want to take your asshole until you moan like the dirty little bitch I used to love.
Used to. What a fucking joke.
I said nothing.
Tonya stayed later than the other ladies. She hovered until there was a lull, checking out her phone for an age with just the dregs of a cappuccino in her cup. She waited until the coast was clear and Lorraine was out the back before she came to the counter.
"She was talking shit," she announced. I stared blankly. "Mandy," she said. "All bluster. All her a lady never tells bullshit is just a cover up for the fact she hasn't had another go yet. If she had we'd be hearing all about it by now. It would have been plastered all over her Facebook. Lady my bloody arse."
"What's your point?" I asked. "That Mandy's far enough down the queue not to have banged Trent and co again yet? I'm sure it's just a matter of time."
"I don't think Mandy's in the bloody queue at all, Jo, nor Debbie for that matter."
I laughed a little. "Nice try."
"What?"
"Trying to make me feel better about the fact the father of my children is fucking every pussy who'll pay him within a fifty mile radius."
"Including yours," she said, then poked her tongue out. "So, how was the gigolo? I know it was a freebie, but I don't imagine the service was substandard." Her eyes sparkled. "Was he a good reintroduction to the land of the sexually active?"
I looked around for Lorraine but she was still out the back, there was nobody in earshot.
"I told you on the phone," I began.
"You told me fuck all on the phone," she laughed.
"It was good." I smiled. "It was really good. It was great."
She punched the air. "Trent shoots, he scores."
I grabbed her a fresh mug. "It was different. I mean, it was Darren. I know Darren. But some stuff was new. Very new."
She grinned. "I guess some of his more refined clients have taught him a thing or two, hey?"
The thought of Porsche-bitch or Mandy Taylor teaching him anything turned my stomach, but Tonya was right. He'd learned his shit from somewhere, and it wasn't from a Haynes manual.
I added milk to her coffee. "He's definitely had some pointers."
"You owe someone a drink then," she said. "I doubt it's Mandy. That silly cow doesn't even own a decent vibe. I doubt she even knows what a multiple orgasm is. It's all talk."
I love the way Tonya bands that crap around like it's standard. She tells me she's the poster girl for multiple orgasms. Three towels doubled over before she'll even risk getting the vibe out.
That's one of the reasons we'd forged the friendship of a lifetime – a shared appreciation of a decent fuck.
Only I'd left that crap at the roadside at about the same place I'd left myself all those years back.
She took her coffee. "So, you still going for the big bang? T-minus four days, right?"
The thought made my clit tingle, and I could still feel Darren there, still feel where I'd been fucked.
I let myself smile a proper smile. Fuck Mandy and Debbie and all those other bitches in the queue. I was going to get mine, and it was going to be worth every penny, the experience of a lifetime alright. Darren's new tricks had made it crystal clear this wasn't some half-rate service, these guys were serious.
Maybe I'd be the poster girl for multiple orgasms come Friday.
"Four days," I said. "And I can't fucking wait!"
I went through the motions, told myself this was just another mid-week gig that meant nothing more than a fresh wedge of notes for the university fund.
I pulled up her Facebook profile as I got myself dressed. Janie Ryan. Daughter of some rich banker from London, on a break at their country pad over Brecon way.
She'd heard of us through a friend of a friend by all accounts, and she was no stranger to paid-for sex. She'd rattled off a load of escort services over the telephone, told me she knew exactly what she was buying into.