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Tonya coughed, shook her head at Mandy and my stomach did a weird little flip. “What?” I said. “Why the weirdness? What’s going on?”
Debbie smiled straight at me. “So, how was your morning?”
I laughed. “My morning sucked, same as every other school morning. Only this morning I found the washing machine had decided to go all kamikaze overnight and take a load of school uniform down with it, Ruby had a tantrum over black socks, I found out Mia hates high school and then found out Ruby’s been taking anger-management classes from her father.” I sighed. “But none of this is even remotely as interesting as taking three guys at once, and you all know it, so what’s the big deal?”
I waited, again. They said nothing — again.
And then Steph checked her phone. “Ooh, is that the time?” She downed her coffee and gathered her bag, and the others followed suit, except Tonya who stayed put.
“What?” I said, and then I saw it. The empty cake plates. The almost empty mugs. They’d been here before me, much before our regular time slot. I felt ridiculously hurt.
“We’ll meet up again next week,” Debbie said. “Catch up properly.”
“But it’s not even eleven…” I said.
I watched in silence as they all said their goodbyes, dumbstruck as they air-kissed me and told me to have a great week. I was watching them across the street when Tonya sighed.
“I’ll get us another coffee,” she said.
I grabbed her wrist. “I don’t want another coffee, Tonya, I want to know what’s going on. What time did you get here?”
She held up her hands. “This wasn’t me. I didn’t know you weren’t in on the earlier start time.”
I folded my arms. “I’m hardly a prude, Tonya. Is that what they think? Do they think I’m a prude?” I shrugged. “I’d love to hear about a bloody orgy, same as everyone else around here.”
She stared right at me. “I said they should just tell you, you’re going to find out soon enough anyway. Mandy’s vague Facebook status got over fifty likes last night, PM me comments all over the place.”
I hadn’t checked Facebook the evening before, I’d been too busy watching old films with Nanna. I pulled out my phone, typed in Mandy Taylor.
Best night ever, her status said. Some fantasies are even better in real life! Then a load of hashtags about bucket lists and being a bad girl.
It seemed the whole village knew about this shit already, but not me. Clearly this gossip wasn’t for me.
I asked the obvious question. Spat it out like a rotten egg. “Who was it? Who did she fuck?”
“Buck,” she said, and that made sense. Buck and Mandy had been flirting all summer. I’d seen it as well as heard it.
“And?”
“Little Petey…”
My stomach dropped. Petey was new, Trent’s young apprentice mechanic. Cute and blonde and Polish. A nice guy.
She didn’t need to continue, but she did.
“And Trent.” She groaned. “Mandy fucked Trent last night.”
I shrugged, pretended it didn’t matter. “Trent’s a free agent. He fucks loads of people, so I gather. That’s his prerogative.”
She shook her head. “Not like this, not three on one.”
I thought it through, Trent, Buck, and Petey, with Mandy Taylor. Trent doesn’t even like Mandy Taylor. Mandy’s nice enough, but she isn’t his type, not that I knew.
Maybe I didn’t know.
“She paid them,” Tonya said. “Trent’s running a gigolo service down there. They call themselves the bang gang.”
The thought made me snort-laugh. “The bang gang? That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Trent’s no bloody gigolo, he struggles with people skills at the best of times.”
“Not with these people skills, he doesn’t. Not according to Mandy.” Tonya looked so sorry. “It was him, Jo. She gave them three hundred, and that was a massive discount apparently.”
“Three hundred quid?! For a fuck?” I still couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t imagine it.
She nodded. “Worth every penny, Mandy said. She’s planning on a repeat performance when her wages come in.” She sighed. “I don’t imagine she’ll be alone, either. Not when she’s finished mouthing off about how brilliant it was.”
I put another sugar in my coffee. “Everyone knows?”
“It’s Mandy Taylor. I imagine it’s reached the valleys by now…”
I looked around the coffee shop, the regular tables of regular people, and they were looking. Looking at me.
Everyone fucking knew.
“The kids,” I said. “What am I going to tell the fucking kids when they start asking if their dad fucks for money?”
Tonya leaned in. “Maybe it’ll go over their heads? Maybe they won’t know anything about any of it? They’re young… It could blow over without them knowing…”
I raised my eyebrows. “Mia is at high school now. She’s fully aware of where babies come from. Somehow I doubt it’s still the fluffy, biologically slanted version of the birds and the bees that I told her.”
