Page 66 of Has Anyone Seen My Sex Life?
The table erupts into hysterics while it dawns on me that Iamthat woman. I am Mrs Mintcake. There’s the Captain out in the world making a name for himself like a Kendallian sexual superhero while Mrs Mintcake waits indoors for him to come home. In my mind, she’s wearing stockings and suspenders but making a pie of some description. Maybe a pork pie.
‘Like there’s this picture that’s set in a forest and he’s got this girl up against a tree and he doesn’t even get his dick out.’
I crease my brow for a moment as I realise this may be one I haven’t even seen. Our heads are all lent forward in conspiratorial whispers.
‘Like it’s just pictures of her orgasming with him using two fingers.’
‘And a tongue, surely?’ adds Sally.
‘Nah. Just his hand…and in both holes.’ She does a strange gesture with her hands which makes her look like she’s at a rock concert and we all gasp. I definitely haven’t seen that one. Our corner of the table cackles briefly.
For a moment I do wonder about an alternative scenario, where I hadn’t found out that the Captain was my own husband. I’d be sitting around this table with these women and I would probably find it all a bit absurd. I’d probably have turned my nose up at it and said it was some sort of desperate housewife’s endeavour. I’d have gone home, had a glance and got very angry at some of the cliché. I’d have watched his rise to popularity with bemusement and maybe bought a coffee table book of the art for a sister for Christmas as a joke present. But that’s not how this panned out. The Captain is my husband. It’s artistic talent, expression, freedom and I sit here feeling a very strange mixture of emotion but knowing that I am in no way ashamed of him.
A small baby crawls up to me and starts to climb my leg. I look down at her. You’re not one of mine. The baby looks up expectantly. Sorry, I don’t quite lactate on the level I think you need. I look around. One’s escaped. Anyone? I reach down to pick her up.
‘Stealing babies now, are we? It’s Sarah. The other mums smile politely as I stand to hand her back. Sarah takes her from me but puts her right back on the floor to crawl in the opposite direction and start going through someone’s handbag. Sarah is always the grand dame at these parties. She’s a given at these events so will know the staff, the parents, the regulars and has her own spot.
‘Haven’t seen you in an age? How’s the ankle?’ she asks me.
‘All good. It’s just been a mare. Work and that.’
‘I see Stu’s been at the gate. He your manny now?’
I remember he may at some point have had words with Sarah about her childminding skills. I won’t bring it up.
‘He’s helping us with the kids.’
‘Thought he was kipping over with Rowan in her mud hut.’
I pause for a moment. At the slur on Rowan for a start but also to figure out where she would have learnt such information. I think of the gossip that Rowan imparted about Sarah’s husband. If she knows about Jez’s philandering ways, she doesn’t let on. She just carries on, business as usual. It’s reminiscent of Emma’s marriage but it makes me think about that sliding scale of lies we all have in our relationships; the lie I got told, how Danny and I are repairing it.
‘No, Stu’s at ours. He’s off soon, back on his travels but he’s making himself useful.’
‘I bet he is.’
‘What does that mean?’
The atmosphere between us is barbed and awkward for reasons I’m not entirely sure.
‘He’s such a flirt at the gate, that’s all. Lots of mums were hoping he was going to be here today if you know what I mean.’
I smile through gritted teeth. Thank God he’s not because knowing him, we’d have received some sort of lifetime family ban from Cheeky Monkeys.
‘But you and Danny are OK now?’
It’s that sort of leading comment where she’s asking me to divulge details but I’m not biting. It’s soft play and a party so I don’t let my discomfort rise to the surface but pour myself another cup of overpriced squash and hold the IKEA plastic tumbler to my mouth to down it.
‘Mummy! That’s for me!’ Eve stands behind me with her class friends who all stand there expectantly.
‘C’mon then, squash all round?’ I look around for suspiciously missing parents who are sat at tables drinking cappuccinos while I’m hydrating their sweaty kids. The little ones all down their drinks and venture into the pit again. Sarah still stands there waiting for information.
‘It’s just I know your babysitter’s mum and she said your ankle was fine when you got home but you told people you twisted it on the cobbles.’ Sarah stands there smug, like she’s worked this out for herself. ‘Was it something to do with Danny? It’s just…did he hurt your ankle?’
I freeze for a moment. So that was why Tash held my hand. People think Danny hit me? I am horrified that anyone would think Danny was capable of it.
‘Well… Why lie and change your story? People do that when they have something to hide.’
All this hearsay and assumption angers me.
