Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114058 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 570(@200wpm)___ 456(@250wpm)___ 380(@300wpm)
“Just what?”
I tried to stop the tears, because I didn’t deserve any self-sympathy, it was way too late for that. They welled anyway, prickling my eyes. “Not when we’re just starting out… not when we stand a chance of fixing the crap we did wrong last time…”
She smiled, and it was kind. I was grateful. “Shit, Jo. You can still fix that stuff. A baby doesn’t make any difference.”
“But it does!” I said. “I’ll be a mum all over again, he’ll be under pressure all over again, working loads of hours all over again, we’ll be busy, and we’ll be stressed, and he’ll be in the pub again, and this time I’ll have three kids and Nanna to look after and I’ll be frumpy Jodie again… I don’t want to be frumpy Jodie again!” My throat was tight and hissy. “And this time he’ll have everyone in a hundred mile radius out for a piece of his cock when I’m not looking… and what if he took it? What if I’m just a bore at home with crappy hair and baby sick all over me and Mandy Taylor’s all over him like a rash?”
“This isn’t how it’s gonna be,” she said. “Not at all! Seriously, Jo, this is just fear. It’s just being scared.”
But I shook my head. “You can’t say that!”
“Yes, Jo, I bloody can. How long have I known you two? Give him a bit of credit, and if not him, then definitely give yourself some.” She sighed. “You were a kid, Jo. It was hard. You had a million things to do, a million things to learn, years of growing up to do in hardly any fucking time at all. That isn’t you now. You’ll be fine this time! I won’t let you turn into mum-zilla, I promise! I like having you back as your old self far too much for that.”
I checked my phone, and I was running late. Again.
Fuck.
I wiped my eyes. “I’ve got to go, Tonya. Work.”
“Shit,” she said. “Can’t you call in sick?”
I shook my head. “Lorraine’s already pissed at me enough.”
I flushed the toilet, and shoved the pregnancy test right at the back of the bathroom cabinet, behind the ear buds and pumice stone that never get used.
“You need to take it steady,” she said. “Keep calm.”
I nodded. “I’ll be alright, just keep on keeping on.”
“And Darren?”
“I’ll tell him,” I said. “Just let’s get these next few days out of the way, hey? Ruby’s got a play date party tomorrow evening and we’ve got Lorraine’s thing on Wednesday. I’ll call him over Thursday.”
“Thursday?” her expression was stern. “Definitely Thursday, then, and not a day bloody later.”
“Thursday. I’ll invite him over.”
“Alright,” she said. “And make sure you get it clear, what you want. Don’t just let him grunt his way through this shit, Jo. Find out what he wants, too. What he really wants. I’m sure it’s you, he just needs to fucking say it for once.”
I didn’t fancy my chances of getting a gushing declaration of forever love from Darren Trent somehow, but I nodded anyway.
I took a breath, checked myself in the mirror and forced a smile.
“Back to it,” I said.
She squeezed my elbow. “I’ll come along for a coffee.”
I got to work, shutting myself in the office through Eleanor Hartley’s wailing fucking gangbang. My mind wouldn’t stop harping on about Jodie, like it ever fucking stopped.
She’d told me she loved me, let me into her bedroom. That had to fucking mean something. Had to mean enough.
I’d tell her. I’d tell her fucking everything. Even about Lorraine. Lay it all out there and start over, make it clear this shit was all behind me. She’d have to listen, I’d make her listen. I’d have to find the words…
Bollocks.
I lit up a cigarette and tried to work through some invoices, but I couldn’t think straight.
My phone pinged and my gut lurched. Jodie.
It wasn’t fucking Jodie.
Lorraine.
Why the hell wouldn’t she just piss off already.
I wasn’t lying about Jodie. Sex party at mine on Wednesday night. She’s coming. Will you be coming too? x
I laughed out loud. Like fuck Jo was going to a sex party at Lorraine’s fucking house.
Nice try, I replied. Just give it a fucking rest, Lorraine.
Another ping a couple of seconds later.
Ask her if you don’t believe me. Don’t give her a hard time though, Trent. She’s her own woman, last thing she needs is you being a damp fucking squib about this shit. At least be a man about it. x
I smoked through the initial burst of rage. Tried to keep a lid on it. Like hell Jodie would be going to that shit.
I called up Jodie’s messages, typed one out, kept it casual. Just in case.
Just in case fucking what? In case Lorraine wasn’t such a lying cunt after all? Of course she fucking was.