Page 49 of Has Anyone Seen My Sex Life?
Bloody effing mother of crap. I can feel sweat pockets start to form in my bra. I know him. I’m married to him. I need to do the best acting I’ve ever done in my life, even better than when I was a shepherd in my school nativity thirty years ago. Crap bags.
‘Do you really know he’s local? How many tourists come through here, it could be someone passing through? A fan of the area?’ I say.
Di nods. ‘True, but sources have also linked this up to a local PO box. Definitely someone who’s at least lived here for quite a while. I’m thinking a genuine local. Some of the pics are drawn in local settings. That plus the username is a giveaway.’
I feel a little sick. If I threw up now, it’d just be a mess of coconut-flavoured Nice biscuits. What the hell is this? Need to put her off the scent.
‘We’re also assuming man, perhaps Captain Mintcake is a woman?’
Di looks impressed by my thorough line of questioning.
‘True, and these are all things that I want you to look at. Maybe the Captain is part of a local artists’ group? It’ll be a bit grubby but check out these local dogging sites too – perhaps this is where it all started?’
I want to stand up. NO! This is just a man with a good imagination. He doesn’t convene in car parks looking for hook-ups and sucking random strangers off by the conifers.
Tim interjects, ‘You want us to go dogging?’ Lisa laughs under her breath.
‘No. Just investigate – do what you do? Who is it? Is this person a primary school teacher, do they stack shelves in Asda or is it the parish vicar?’
‘So an exposé?’
My heart aches now, panic darting through me. Di has just assumed he is a pervert and more would do the same if this were ever to come out. It could ruin the family business. We have really young daughters. I know how newspapers work. We’d plaster his name across the pages with family pictures and question this man’s integrity and everything he’s about. I tear up slightly at the thought.
‘Realistically, this is more of a way to help people make contact. Mr Mintcake is ignoring all private messages and letters…’
‘Captain Mintcake…’ I correct her. I shouldn’t have done that.
‘He has a quarter of a million followers across different websites and social media platforms. He draws, he paints and he’s built a fan base.’
Say how many? How did I not know this? I was so busy looking at the penises, I didn’t register this information. That’s like the population of Sunderland. That’s a shed load of people. They’re all liking his stuff, they’re all fans. Danny has fans. I sit silently as Tim makes notes next to me.
‘So, I don’t know enough about these things. It may not always be the most pleasant of research – let’s look at the underground scene here in and around the Lakes. I’m sure there’s all sorts of sordid shenanigans going on. Of course, be safe and don’t do things you don’t want to do but people just want to know who this Mintcake person is…’
Captain Mintcake, I mumble under my breath. Crapping hell, Danny – you even chose a moniker that was completely Lakes inspired. Why couldn’t you draw porn on the Tube or in a Geordie accent and throw people off? I can’t think. My only urge is protective, to guard the man I love.
‘And there are rewards, finders’ fees in this for us.’
Tim looks up from his paper. ‘So we’re like bounty hunters?’
Di gives him admonishing looks. She’s still getting to grips with his youth and at times fails to get the sense of humour.
‘No, Tim. The money on the table for the big reveal on this is massive. He’s played this so well – everyone is speculating about who he is. Like that secret artist who draws on the walls. This man has the potential to be the next big thing in social media, art, he could go into publishing – the extent of the online following speaks volumes. We’re talking big money – one million pounds on the table to start.’
I can’t quite read my own reaction but I think it veers between catatonic and someone sitting on my chest. Lisa and Tim are scribbling down notes. I nod and pretend that went in.
‘So someone who’s lived here for all of their lives?’ Lisa asks.
This is good. Danny did live in London for a while.
‘Or maybe someone who was born here…’
Damn you, Tim. Di’s words still echo in my ears. A quarter of a million followers, one million pounds. It’s all an alien currency to me. This isn’t a hobby anymore. This is the prospect of paid work, something that Danny could do that would satisfy his heart – and sort us for life. It makes me beam with pride and excitement for him though obviously I don’t show it. I try to sit here cool and aloof but in my head I’m thinking about booking a Disneyworld holiday. We could have breakfast with Mickey.
‘I’ve got it!’ exclaims Lisa. My blood runs cold for a second. Lisa is a decent journalist but I hope my face didn’t give it away.
‘Must be Neal!’ There are peals of laughter throughout the room. I join in reluctantly. Thank balls for that.
‘So, someone born in the Lakes, possibly a man who could be involved in some sort of sexual kinkiness/artists’ groups…narrows it down…’ Lisa says.
