How cool would that be? My boss-fucking mother finding out that her next-desk-neighbour had fucked her discarded husband . . . ideally for hours on end and from all directions.
Don’t get me wrong; I did actually like Doreen, even if she did keep calling me “little Natalie”. If I had to pick a good-looking woman for Daddy, she’d be towards the top of the list.
No, she’d be up there in the top two or three.
If only I had chance to pick someone to drop a casual Monday morning comment such as “Oh, your ex is so bloody big, isn’t he?” Or maybe “Doesn’t he ever want to sleep?”
Well, Doreen was ideally placed, wasn’t she? The comment possibilities weren’t simply endless, that little lady was also perfectly capable of making them.
She had a sexy ass too.
And what on earth was happening to so-very straight me?
I was spot on when I said Daddy and Doreen were deep in conversation. If they’d been in any deeper they would have had tongues down each other’s throats. Not that I was all that jealous. Seeing them together was rewarding, not challenging.
I was a big girl, remember? And I was nobody’s fool. I liked fucking Daddy but knew we couldn’t go on as we were forever, at least not in an every weekend sort of a way. Train fares had got ridiculous and regularly fucking my favourite relative wasn’t a passport to an easy life, was it?
Yes, the way I saw it Doreen could stand in for me. I could keep my “Daddy liaisons” quiet and catch up with him once in a while. Daddy would get to regularly sleep with a beautiful woman and have me as an occasional bonus. And Doreen would get the man she wanted and bragging rights at work.
Win-win all round, in my humble opinion.
What about Mother, I hear you cry. Okay, she was the big unknown. I hoped she’d be jealous as hell of Doreen but she just might be glad. And if she could see an edge in the budding relationship, she’d exploit it like a miner forty-niner.
‘You have to,’ Doreen was saying as I joined them, noting that Daddy’s basket was well-provided for wine but lacking in veg.
‘Oh, hi Nat,’ said Daddy, fudging it.
‘He has to what?’ I asked Doreen.
‘He has to do something about his situation,’ Doreen replied. ‘I’ve heard your mother at work, telling everyone that she’s been to see her solicitor, forecasting her walkover in the divorce court.’
‘Sounds like the message I got,’ said I, being slightly economical with the truth. ‘Get your retaliation in as soon as you can Daddy. She isn’t taking prisoners.’
‘Did she ask you to go home?’ Doreen asked me.
‘Sort of; she told me her home would always be mine.’
‘Well there you go then! She wants to turn it into the family home!’ Doreen’s face was closer than ever to Daddy’s. ‘If she can get little Natalie back she can claim it’s the family home. And, if she can make it look as if you’ve walked out of the family home, you’ve lost before you’ve even started.’
‘Doreen’s right,’ I said, seeing Mother’s game plan at last. ‘But don’t worry, there’s more chance of me sharing a cell with the Yorkshire Ripper than moving back in with her.’