Carnage: Book #1 The Story Of Us (Volume 1)(57)

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “But do you want to be the one to tell your Dad what happened and why? Do you want your Dad’s blokes out looking for little dick, seems to me, the poor blokes got enough problems without Frank Layton putting a price on his tiny balls.”

I actually laugh out loud at the thought of Lee and his little cock and balls being chased by my Dad; shit he’s right, the least my Dad knows about the damage to my car the better. I chew on the inside of my lip.

“Okay but I want a receipt for the work, I want to pay the bill and make sure you tell them to be gentle with her, she’s getting on and needs to be handled with love.”

He frowns. “Who?”

“Hilda.”

“Fuck, right, yeah, of course, Hilda the Triumph Herald, how could I forget?” He smiles as he speaks, he looks so young when he smiles and I wonder again how old he actually is. I’m guessing twenty-nine, thirty…

“How old are you Cam?”

“Old as my tongue, bit older than my teeth,” he says with a shrug and looks away from me.

“My Nan always used to say that and she was like eighty or something when she died, are you as old as her?”

“Fuck off, let’s get you home.”

Cam dropped me off at my flat and we came to an arrangement whereby he would sort out the cost of the damage to my car as long as I agreed to go out for dinner with him Saturday night. I agreed. Of course I agreed there was just something about him that made me want to agree and try as I might, I didn’t seem to be able to fight it.

Saturday morning I had a fitting for my bridesmaid dress with Jimmie, she was having three of us and her older sister was being matron of honour. Jim being the funky little soul that she was, had chosen fantastic fifty’s style retro dresses for us, they were really simple, in a soft peach colour, with a strapless bodice a wide ivory sash to match the colour of Jims dress and then a full skirt that came just above our knees, with lots of petticoats underneath. Jimmies dress was the same style but where ours were strapless, she had lace over the bodice, with three quarter lace sleeves and a massive bow at the back of the sash around her waist, we all had little short veils for our heads, Jims was longer and covered her face, the whole thing was so her and I just loved it.

I got the usual telling off from Claude and Sally the dress-makers; I had to have my dress made slightly smaller every time we had been back for fittings, then my mother joined in the charge and started going on about how I spent too much time at the gym, at work or out clubbing, that I never ate and that I would never find a husband in a noisy, sweaty club.

“Actually, I have a date tonight and he’s taking me out for dinner,” I state loudly from where I’m standing on the podium while Claude darts the back of my dress where he wants it taken in.

A pin scrapes my skin, only just not piercing it. “Oww!” I complain, looking over my shoulder at him; we use Claude and Sall for lots of jobs for the shops and we referred lots of customers to them who wanted Bespoke tailoring so they we providing their services for free as a thank you to my Mum.

Claude looked up at me and rolled his eyes in an ‘I barely touched you’ expression. “Is there blood?” I asked.

“Oh do stop being such a drama queen Georgia, if you didn’t shock me with that last comment then I might not have moved the pin too close. You are being serious I take it? You really do have a date tonight, with a real man? Don’t go getting your mothers hopes up if you’re just trying to placate her.”

My family had no idea about the life I’d been leading these past six months, no idea I’d been leading men around by their dicks just for the pure pleasure of dumping them as soon as they mentioned the L word, as far as they were aware, I’d been a single party girl, living it up every weekend, which was also partly true and the story that I went with.