I think I might just do that. xx
I was outside Jodie’s well in time to take the girls to school. They seemed to be in their usual spirits, just like any other school day. Ruby screamed blue fucking murder when I told her it was Mia’s turn to sit up front.
It’s not fairrrr! I wanna go up front! That’s my seat!
Not today it wasn’t.
She sulked in the backseat, but that would have to do. I wanted to keep an eye on Mia.
I parked up by the bus stop, and today I cut the engine and got out with her. I stood with her while we waited, scoping out the kids around.
None of them put a foot wrong, full of smiles and hellos like butter wouldn’t fucking melt.
Tyler Dean saw me from up the road. He stopped, looked unsure of himself, like the little weasel he was.
Come on, dipshit.
He walked so fucking slowly. Dawdling like a prick, pretending to check out his phone.
I waited. I’d gladly wait all fucking day.
He stayed well away from us, huddled with a few of his dickhead mates, but they were all quiet as mice. They wouldn’t even look at Mia.
“Alright, lads,” I called. I lit up a cigarette. “I’d best not be hearing about any bullshit going down on the bus today, or the shit’s gonna fly. Do you fucking hear me?”
A load of nods, a load of mumbles.
“Tyler,” I snapped. I waited until he met my eye. “I’m gonna be here tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after, and every fucking day after that, so I’d think very fucking carefully about the seat you choose on that bus, understand?”
He nodded. “Yes, Mr Trent.”
Pussy assed prick.
The bus pulled up and Mia smiled at me. I kissed her head, ruffled her hair. She smoothed it back down again, gave me a tut.
“See you later, Dad.” She looked back at me from the doorway. “Thanks.”
I slapped the side of the bus as it pulled away, gave her a wave as she looked out the window.
Ruby was up front when I got back in the truck. “Still should have punched him in the mouth,” she said. “He’s a prick.”
I smiled. “Yes, Rubes, he’s a fucking prick alright.”
We were late for school, I pulled up on the verge just as the kids were filing in to class. The mums all stared at me, whispering like usual – probably commenting on my sack of shit parenting skills – but none of that mattered. None of their bullshit ideals had ever meant shit to me.
“Be good,” I said as I waved her off. “No garage words, alright? Try your hardest not to butt-hurt anyone.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ll try,” she leaned in close, put her hands around her mouth. “But butt-hurting stupid idiots is so fun.”
She gave me the thumbs-up, and I couldn’t stop laughing all the way to the fucking yard.
That girl was my fucking daughter, alright.
The lads were already at work when I got there. The banter eased up as I stepped through the shutters, just the sound of the radio blaring out the same old shit.
“Alright?” I said.
“Yeah,” Buck said. “Opened up early. Just getting our heads down, got shit-loads on.”
I counted the breakdowns lined up outside. “Good call.”
He cleared his throat. “We were hoping for a bit of time, if Eleanor…”
I nodded. “Get this backlog down, then.”
Petey dished out the drinks, then got down to it, checked out the diagnostics set up with Buck. He was learning, I could see it. Good lad.
I wondered how he was going with Lorraine, then checked myself. It was none of my business how he was getting on with Lorraine, none of my business how he was getting on with any of it.
I didn’t want it to be my business.
Not anymore.
I checked out Cheryl Neath’s old blue Fiesta outside. The thing was fucked. Head gasket. Poor cow. I slammed the bonnet closed as an engine purred onto our yard. Nice, but no Porsche, thank fuck.
Lee Pullen was behind the wheel of a big silver Audi convertible. He pulled up next to me, wearing shades in fucking October, daft prick.
“What do you think?” he said.
I can’t stand convertibles. Wouldn’t have one if someone fucking paid me, but I gave him a nod.
“She’s alright, yeah. My Ruby would go mad for her, she loves Audis.”
“A girl with taste,” he said.
I gave it a look, thing must have set him back a small fucking fortune, the car was only just past warranty, judging by the plates.
“Was hoping you’d check her over for me. Got a month’s no quibble guarantee from the dealer.”
“Can do,” I said. I tipped my head towards the empty spot in the garage. “Pull her in there.” He parked her up and handed me the keys. “Pick her up end of day,” I said. “I’ll get on it after lunch.”