Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Liaden
“... s o I thought, motherfuckety WHAT, and turned to the judge and said, your honour, with respect, BOLLOCKS, she should have been able to walk home stark naked and have nobody so much as lay a hand on her, and the length of her skirt was not an invitation to feel her up, and the defendant’s lawyer was perpetuating rape culture by even having the nerve to ask me that question, and he was also lending credibility to the moronic fucking idea that men are incapable of self control and women are just sperm dumpsters there for the gratification of slimy misogynists like him and the defendant, and that he was an irresponsible twat and the laziest, most unimaginative lawyer I’d ever even heard of, and I didn’t see why I should have to answer his so-called ‘questions’.
” Sadie makes sarcastic air quotes, in full flow after rather a lot of margaritas.
Her Korean sheet mask has stayed admirably in place during this tirade relating her one and only time as a witness in court, and her eyes are glittering with righteous anger in the mask’s eye holes.
“So what happened?” I ask, half-laughing, fully impressed by her guts .
She shrugs. “The judge said it was his first time seeing the witness badgering the lawyer, found me in contempt of court, fined me five hundred pounds, and had me escorted off the premises by security. Still, Gropey Gus got convicted, so hey, job well done by all.”She grabs another slice of one of the pizzas I bought earlier.
“That’s my girl,” Em grins from behind her own fibre mask. She brought them over for the three of us to enjoy, and I have to say I’m a convert.
“ And ,” Sadie continues, looking as ferocious as Boudicca despite her Rainbow Brite themed pyjamas, “it’s like I tell the boys, every time I hear the whole ‘her skirt was so short that she was asking for it, he couldn’t help himself’ fuckery, it should make them fucking livid , and I downright expect them to act accordingly.
Not only because it’s offensive to the sisterhood, which they should care about because we are fellow human beings , but because the implication is that they’re so brain dead that it assumes their default position is ‘rapist’, that they can’t be trusted to be around a woman wearing a short skirt because they have a cock and are helplessly out of control, and that’s fucking outrageous, and an insult to the brotherhood.
It’s true of some men, but not all, and I’m not about to get all ‘not all men’, because fuck that nonsense, but they need to get it together and call that shit out , for fuck’s sake. ”
“Someone really loves the word ‘fuck’,” I laugh.
“The whole thing about it originating from Irish church clerks using it as shorthand for ‘forbidden use of carnal knowledge’ is a load of rubbish, by the way. It’s got Germanic roots.
Bit of Dutch in there, too: fokken , meaning ‘to breed’.
Bit of Indo-European hiding in the roots. ”
They both smile at me. “That’s interesting,” Emily says, “I’ve often wondered.
” She sounds sincere, and I feel warmed inside that they haven’t looked at me like I’m odd, and they haven’t rapidly changed the subject.
Or asked me questions to try to trip me up.
Or disagreed with what I said to try to sound smarter or cooler than me.
I could get used to this ‘having girlfriends’ malarkey. It’s been a great evening so far.
“Sometimes ‘fuck’ is the only word that will fucking do,” Sadie continues, “especially when smashing the patriarchy. Saying ‘fuck’ loud and proud is a massive two fingers to all the douchbag men who think women shouldn’t say such ‘unladylike’ things, and should fuck off back to the kitchen or the nursery instead. The fuckers.”
“God, you would love Mitchell,” I reply, rolling my eyes at the thought of him. I’m sure he’d rather I fucked off to a kitchen and made fairy cakes all day, instead of showing him up all the damn time.
“Who’s Mitchell?” Emily asks as she pulls on the hem of one of Eli’s oversized Metallica t-shirts, borrowed for the evening and pulled over a pair of leggings because she doesn’t own any pyjamas.
“The Deputy Dean of my department. Can’t stand the…” I grin. “ Fuckwit .”
“Another good variation,” Sadie approves, raising her glass. “So, why do we hate Mitchell?”
We .
I purse my lips. “He thinks he’s my boss, and he very much isn’t. Chronic mansplainer, patronising as the day is long, and slut shames me when nobody’s listening with suggestions that I traded sexual favours to climb the greasy pole. He’s just cross it’s not his greasy pole I’m climbing.”
“What a prick,” Sadie sneers, “and that’s definitely sexual harassment!”
I nod. “I caught him snooping on my work PC recently. Heaven only knows what he was looking for. Or maybe he was going to replace all the B words in my next paper with the word ‘boobs’.”
“Report his arse.” I smile at Sadie’s snarling, wondering what would happen if she and Mitchell ever met. I’m sure Peter would be thrilled.
“Put milk powder in his bed sheets,” Emily says quietly.
We both turn to look at her. “Sorry?” Sadie asks, leaning forward.
She takes a sip of her cocktail. “Break into his home while he’s out and sprinkle milk powder into his bed sheets.
He won’t notice, and as he sweats overnight, it’ll embed in his pores and turn into cheese.
And because it’s in his pores, he won’t be able to wash it off, so he’s walk around stinking of rancid old cheese for around a month while it works its way out. Nothing he can do about it.”
Sadie and I wear identical open mouthed expressions, and Emily cracks up.
“I never knew you could be so… evil . I love it.” Sadie’s eyes are alight with glee.
Emily smiles. “It’s something I’ve got in my back pocket in case Eli ever cheats,” she jokes.
I scoff. “He’s more likely to grow a unicorn horn out the centre of his head than get the horn for someone other than you.”
Her eyes soften, and she sighs. “Yeah, I know.”
“While we’re on the subject of men with mooning puppy eyes…” Sadie gives me a look. “What’s going on between you and Dean?”
Clang, there it is. “Er…” I’m not often at a loss for words, but holy shit, that was direct. But then, Sadie is clearly one of life’s straight shooters. Emily gives me a sympathetic look, but she’s equally curious.
“I mean, we’ve all been dying to get the inside scoop.” Sadie crosses her legs and gives me her full attention, topping up my margarita glass. “Do you like him as much as he clearly likes you?”
I take a rather large gulp to prepare me for this conversation. “Yes,” I admit, because, hell, when do I ever get a chance to offload like this? And isn’t this what sleepovers have always been for, historically speaking: talking about boys? “I…god, I can’t stop thinking about him.”
“Knew it,” Emily crows, drumming her palms on her knees like bongos, “tell us everything.”
I glance at my phone next to me, and a quick tap of the side button confirms that I’ve let it go dead.
Sighing, I plug it into the nearest charger and turn back to them.
“Well… I don’t know what to say. We’ve texted a whole lot.
And our appointments for my back have been so…
” I shiver. “Heated.” I smile to myself at the dichotomy of shivering when talking about the heat between him and me.
“The karaoke night was interesting to watch,” Sadie pipes up. “You guys seemed to just…I dunno, be in each other’s orbit, or something. ”
“And the forehead kiss…” Emily sighs. “I just about melted.”
“You’re not the only one,” I reply wryly.
There’s a zing in my chest as I think of him.
“It’s…complicated. Obviously. But I have to take things really slowly with him, because that’s what he needs, and if I want anything to happen, that’s how it has to be.
” I bite my lip. “But dear holy fuckamoly, the slow build-up is playing havoc with my pink falafel, ladies.”
Sadie shouts with laughter. “Your what?!”
I grin at her. “My pink falafel. My mound of Venus. My two lipped tulip.” The three of us crack up.
“I’ve always thought ‘vagina’ is too clinical, and it only refers to the actual tunnel, anyway.
I like to have fun with naming it. Like with the Sanskrit word, yoni - it means the whole thing, womb, vulva, vagina.
But then Gwyneth Paltrow started the whole weird yoni egg craze, and now the word just makes me think of those and her vagina candles. So…pink giggle wagon it is.”
“Panty gerbil,” Sadie suggests through tears of laughter.
“I used to babysit a little boy who called it a jacket potato ,” Em adds, going red in the face with mirth.
“Fur burger,” I say, clapping my hands.
“Only until my next waxing appointment,” Sadie winks.
When Emily finally stops laughing, she looks at me thoughtfully. “Slow is definitely good, especially for Dean, but…how slow is too slow?”
“Em, it’s Dean . Slow is really, really smart.
He’ll spook, otherwise,” Sadie replies. She turns back to me.
“No offence intended, but we were worried when he first met you. He’s been hurt enough by life, and we’ve spent years being very protective of him.
So I’ll only ask you this once: you’re not just going to boink him and then leave him, are you?
Because it’s excruciatingly obvious that he’s caught feelings. ”