Page 15 of Pelvic Flaws

Which I was, it was just sometimes I got a little bit pissed that he’d moved on and I hadn’t. I didn’t want him back specifically, it was having someone and living a life with them that I missed.

“You’re right,” Dex said, holding his hands up. “My bad. It’s none of my business.”

“It is your business…Dex, is it?” My mum held out her hand. “D’reen Turner, Katie’s mum.”

“It’s actually Doreen,” I said to Dex, who grinned. “She’s trying to be posh.”

“Lovely to meet you, ma’am. Dex Michaels, Katie’s friend.”

“Well, Katie’s friend, ignore her catty remarks, and just so you know, I like your thinking. In fact, I’ve always liked Americans, haven’t I always said that, Katie?”

“Yes, Mum, you’ve always said that.”

And to be fair to her, she had.

“Well that’s good to know. But, I am sorry, Katie. It really isn’t any of my business.”

I sighed and let my shoulders sag. “No, you’re both right. Knowing it was going to have his kids in it, Carl should have let me keep the car and bought himself one.”

I’d never said anything at the time, because we just wanted to get things sorted as quickly as possible. We’d drifted along in our marriage for so long that by the time we realised it was over, we were desperate to move on and start afresh. Carl seemed to love the damn car so much, I let him keep it as long as he agreed to get me something. It wasn’t that I was useless, I simply didn’t have the time or want to listen to some condescending prick talk down to me about horse power and break speed. All I wanted was a car with a large boot and enough room for me and three growing kids. And Carl kept me at my word – my ‘new’ car was like a tank, with room for a couple of dead bodies in the boot, was ten years old and the colour of shit. But hey, at least he still had his gleaming black, BMW to impress his twenty-two-year-old girlfriend with.

“Finally,” my mum muttered. “You agree he was wrong to buy it.”

“Maybe it was a vendetta,” I replied with a little laugh.

“I thought it was a Vauxhall Astra,” my mum scoffed. “But whatever, it’s still crap.”

Dex coughed to hide a laugh, while I looked at her in amazement.

“No, I meant maybe he bought it as a ven-, actually, you know what, it doesn’t matter.” I could see by the glazed look on her face she had no idea what the joke had been. “So, what are you doing here?” I asked instead.

“Oh, I came to borrow Isaac’s old badminton racquet. I’m joining a club.”

“What a sex club?” I laughed. “You need the racquet for a bit of spanking?”

Dex snorted and my mum gasped.

“No, don’t be so disgusting,” she said, pouting her enhanced lips. “A badminton club. I need to keep this in trim.”

She waved a hand down her slim body and preened, giving her little ginger head a wobble.

“This doesn’t come easily, Dex,” she added.

Dex cleared his throat and nodded. “I’m sure.”

Rolling my eyes, I pulled off my jacket and threw it over the back of the sofa. “So you’ve got it, the racquet?”

“No, he couldn’t find it. He said he’ll look in the loft tomorrow and pop it around.”

I nodded, knowing full well who would be looking in the loft and popping the racquet around to her house, and it certainly wouldn’t be her adored grandson.

“Okay.”

“I suppose I should go,” Mum said, eyeing Dex furtively. “You want to see me to the door, Katie?”

“What, going so soon. You don’t want the chair and ropes brought in, or the lamp to shine in his face?”

“You know you’re not funny at all,” she huffed. “Now, are you going to see me out?”

---