"Jesus, Darren," I snapped. "How the fuck can you be doing this for the fucking girls?"
I met his eyes, but he'd closed up again. His expression was hard and disengaged. "Forget it. I'll sort it."
"Forget it?!"
"Yeah," he snapped back. "Forget it."
I stared aghast. Just aghast. "You're really fucking for money, aren't you?"
He shrugged. "Way I see it, people need plenty of things. If I can give them what they want and charge them a fair price, I'll do it. This is no different, Jo, it's just a fucking gig, same as the others." He gestured at the cars around us. "Just like the motors, only I use a different fucking tool."
I shook my head. "I can't believe this … I just can't … "
He lit up another cigarette. "I've been keeping it away from here."
"By fucking that big-mouth Mandy Taylor?!"
"That was Buck," he said. "Likes her. Said she was sound."
"And now it's out! It's every-fucking-where! I have to face everyone in the village, and I will. But what about the girls?! What the hell do I tell them?!"
"Nothing," he said. "Tell them nothing, Jo." He scowled. "It'll blow over. Gossip will be chip paper next week."
I laughed a snarky laugh. "Sure it will." I shrugged. "Just like the broken washing machine will blow over, and Ruby's swearing, and every other thing that goes belly up around me." I had the most horrible, pitiful urge to cry, so I walked away. "It'll all just blow over, right, Darren? I'll just keep waiting, shall I? Pick Ruby up from school and pretend her dad isn't fucking half the locals?"
"I'm not fucking half the locals," he said.
"You think that's what they'll tell our girls?! Your dad isn't fucking half the locals, just a few?!"
"They can tell them what they fucking like, it's not true."
My phone bleeped in my pocket. I considered leaving it alone, but I never can. In case it's Nanna, or the school, or my parents from the coast whenever they get a quiet few minutes. It was Lorraine, my boss.
Can you cover Emma for a few hours this afternoon? You'd be a lifesaver.
I'm always a lifesaver, always running around after everyone else. And I'd had fucking enough of it.
"You can pick Ruby up, then," I said. "See how you like dealing with it."
He nodded, didn't flinch. "Fine. I'll pick her up."
"Half three," I said. "Don't be late."
"I never fucking am," he snapped.
"Good," I snapped back. "At least I can count on you for something."
I didn't give him another glance.
I busted a fucking nut to get those cars done. Didn't even eat the sandwiches Petey came back from the shop with. We all worked hard, all knuckled down - even Hugh and Jimmy O - and at twenty-nine minutes past three I had my foot down in the truck as I sped across the village to get my little girl. The thought of her spouting cunt around the place shouldn't make me laugh, but it did. It really fucking did. Ruby's so pissing funny, you can't help yourself.
I didn't bother with the car park, just mounted the verge and pulled the truck to a stop. I could see the curtains twitching, people stopping midway about their village business to stop and gawk at me.
There he is. Trent. The gigolo. The whore.
The fucking dick.
Like I give a fuck what they think.
I don't know how Jodie manages to smile through this same old village playground shit every day of her life. The place was humming with people judging each other behind their fake-assed smiles, squawking on about what's what around here. They were all gossiping, all moaning about some shit or another, but every set of eyes in that school yard were on me. I kept my cool, lighting up a cigarette as I stood at the gate, right at the edge of the no smoking zone.
The snooty mum brigade always hated that, but there was a bit of a sizzle through them today. Their lingering glares in my direction were laced with something else.
It made me crack a grin to myself.
For all their whining and fucking moaning they all wanted a piece of Mandy Taylor's action. They'd be condemning with one hand while rubbing one off with the other, that's the way of the fucking world.
I'd just finished up my cigarette when Ruby's classroom door opened and kids came pouring out. She was one of the last, yapping on to Miss Davies, in a world of her own as she trailed her school bag after her. Her hair was a tangle, her freckles glowing in the afternoon sun, her toothy grin hitting me in the gut and making me so fucking proud.
When it was just Jodie and me, when things were good, I loved her more than I'd ever loved anything in the world. As much as it's possible to love anyone, that's what I thought. I'd have walked through fire for her, thrown myself under a truck for her, clawed through Hell just to make her happy.
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.