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girls
Now
“Soooooo,”Mai flings her hands around in excitement, her voice rising enough to make other people enjoying peaceful coffees turn in interest.
“Soooooo, what?” I stir my mocha with a splash inducing enthusiasm and keep my eyes averted from Dani and Mai. It’s been days since mine and Freddy’s fated first date, and well, since then life has sucked even harder than it did before.
Freddy still turns up at ten thirty, and he still sits by my side on the front step, despite the cooler evening air. He hasn’t asked to come in, and he hasn’t gone further than gripping my hand in a fist of iron; his hold so tight I have to read more into it than I probably should.
‘Soooooo, your date?” Mai prompts again, her pitch-black gaze darting over me. Dani has sunk down in her leather seat and is watching me over the rim of her coffee mug.
Coffee? I need wine. But it’s only eleven thirty.
“The date was okay. We went bowling, I fell over, it was okay.”
“No sex?”
I spurt my mouthful of mocha everywhere. “Why would you presume there was sex?”
“Because I’ve known Freddy for ten years and the whole time I’ve known him, everyone has talked about the two of you being like dynamite. I figured there would be sex.”
I don’t simply flush. I burn like Hades himself has dragged me down to hell.
“Haaaaah!” Dani cries. “They totally had sex.”
I straighten my back and attempt to pull on my prim and proper look. “Honestly, Dani, we’re nearly thirty.”
“Yeah, and you and Freddy did the dirty after ten years. We need details, now.”
I pull a face at them both. “You’re both married to a Bale. I’m sure you can work it out.”
They both look at each other in amusement before laughing. “Yeah.” Dani sobers up enough to say. “But Freddy’s the hot one.”
“Glad you know it,” I reply with a cheeky grin, taking another sip of my drink. “Anyway,” I continue, “there’s no rushing into anything. I made that mistake last time, and also as I’m still married and will be for a long time, there’s no point in rushing.”
Dani and Mai both have their eyebrows in their hairlines. “Total and utter shit,” Mai states matter of factly. “Why’s this Elliot being such a pain in the arse, anyway?”
I giggle a little. Mai does have a great way with words. “Uh, because I married him, Mai, and then one day I woke up and realised I’d made a terrible mistake. Then I used my mum as an excuse and ran away, and then finally he found me shagging some guy I used to know.” I take a deep breath. “I do believe that may be why he is being an arse.”
I’ve had a long hard look at my actions over the last few days. I’m not proud, at all. In fact, I’m ashamed of some of the things I’ve done.
“Bollocks!” Dani butts in. “He must have known you weren’t in love with him. I’d say it’s quite easy to tell. He’s the one who’s been manipulating you. And that crap with Isaac. That’s just trying to control you and using your own son as leverage.”
I stare into my mocha hoping to find some answers there. I don’t. “Dani, you can’t excuse the things I’ve done.”
“I’m not excusing them. When you left here you were heartbroken. Freddy acted like a dickhead. You were a single mum, and you did the best you could, but letting some twat dictate to you when he’s going to seeyourchild is beyond unacceptable.” Her words confuse me at first, but quick enough, before I can put my foot in it, I remember that nobody else knows that Freddy is Isaac’s real dad. I mean, they all might guess, but it hasn’t been confirmed, and nor will it until the boy himself knows and this mess is finally sorted once and for all.
Dani’s gaze is intent on me, just like it was the first day when she met Isaac and did the math as quick as lightning. Ignoring her scrutiny, I concentrate on the rest of her words, her analysis of my bad choices after I left, or rather after I ran away.
Her words are true. If I look long and hard, I know my life is a catalogue of mistakes that I’ve made based on the decisions of others.
The biggest mistake I made was when I chose to walk away from Freddy instead of stand and fight. That mistake I’ve been paying for, for a very long time, and so has my son.
“So, anyway, are you up for family dinner on Friday night? It’s kind of a Bale tradition,” Mai asks.
“I’m not a Bale.”
“Mere technicality.”
