The Bunk Up (The Village People Book 1) (2 page)

I should have known it would only be a matter of time before Marcus walked in too.

He takes a seat at my table - without asking.

I will not cry. I will not cry.

“I’m so sorry, Daisy.” He reaches across the table, squeezing my fingers. “I… It’s just, well, we’ve been together since we were sixteen. I didn’t mean to get bored. I didn’t mean to fall in love with her…”

He didn’t mean to do a lot of things by the sounds of it.

I can’t speak, the lump in my throat forcing the words back down into my heart. I can only stare at him as I try to blink back the tears.

“I mean, eight years is a long time, Daisy. We all get bored. You should be proud that I was with you for that long.”

What the…?

“You’ll like Belinda when you get to know her…”

“What?” I finally manage.

Marcus winces at the high pitch of my voice.

“I’ll
like
Belinda? I’ll
like
the woman you’ve been screwing behind my back for God knows how long? Is it because she has nicer boobs than me?”

“It’s not your boobs, Daisy. There’s nothing wrong with your boobs, although… well, your nipples are a little too small… babe… and Belinda does have a very tight grip if you know what I mean.” His voice filters out and he gulps when he watches my face redden with rage.

The barmaid coming to clear my empty glass away senses the encroaching storm and spins on her heels, swiftly escaping the chilliness around our table.

Marcus stares up at me with wide, horrified eyes when I stand up. Leaning toward him, I rest my fists on the table. “Maybe my nipples
are
small. I’ll even admit my boobs are wonky. Maybe my foo
isn’t
to your specific tastes,” I rage. “But I happen to like my foo! It’s cute! It’s nice and clean, and it was okay at keeping your small pencil dick warm!”

“You tell him, girl!” A young blonde woman at the next table nods firmly at me before she turns her glare on Marcus. “From what I can make out your missus has a perfectly good rack. I can’t see her foo, but she looks like the type of woman who would keep it trim and clean.” Turning to me, she sticks her chin out. “He’ll come crawling back, love. But don’t you dare take him back. You get yourself out there and find someone who loves your boobs
and
has a big thick dick!”

I nod to her. “He’s rubbish in bed anyway.”

She nods slowly in return, narrowing her eyes on Marcus. “Yeah, he looks like it. Selfish. Eight years you’ve been with him? Nah, you need to have some fun, love.”

Her friend nods, crossing her arms over her chest as she gives Marcus an assessing gaze. “I’m guessing five inch.”

“Five and a quarter.”

“Shit, girl. You deserve at least a seven.”

“Can we not discuss my penis in the pub?” yells Marcus. Even more people turn towards us.

“I’ve never been with anyone else, so I thought it was okay...”

Both girls gasp. “What?” Two pairs of horrified eyes fix on me. “Oh, you’ve got a surprise coming your way. You’ll love a bigger dick. And if you can, find one that’s pierced.”

“Okay.” I gulp. “I’ll try.”

They both high-five me when I snatch up my bag.

“Thank you for being a big dick with a small cock,” I tell him. “I’m now going in search of a better one.” I leave Marcus staring after me.

Keeping my chin high and my shoulders back, I slowly walk down the road to the bus stop.

And then I cry.

Chapter Two

Daisy

Once the tears had subsided it became clear that I had a problem. I could not spend the night in a bus shelter. Unfortunately, Marcus owned our home so not only was I boyfriendless, I was now also homeless. There was no way I was going back home for my belongings so I took the only option currently available to me. The next bus took me to Kathy’s messy semi where she lived with her husband and three children.

Kathy takes one look at me and grabs her phone. “Have you been attacked? Mugged? Christ, you look a fucking sight. Who’s punched you in the eyes?”

I take the phone out of her hand. “No-one. It’s Marcus. He’s been shagging Belinda from the estate agents.” I start to sob again.

“He’s what? Are you sure? But you’ve been together forever. He can’t.”

“I saw him. Actually saw his penis going in Belinda’s love tunnel.”
Love tunnel?
I wince, my own term repulsing me and making me shiver. “How will I ever get that image from my mind? Where will I live? What about my box full of wedding ideas for when he actually proposed? I have 3,643 pins on Pinterest. Do you know how many hours I’ve spent planning my wedding? All wasted.”

“Oh honey.” Kathy scrunches up her nose. “But you weren’t even engaged.”

I hiccough. “He said he would propose when he got a promotion.”

“But he seems really quite settled running his Slimming Universe group.”

I sniff. “He said he’d expand.”

“More chance of his returning to deep fried Mars Bars in that respect, Daisy.”

Marcus had been a small plump lad with short blonde hair when we’d met at Night Fever, the downtown disco. He was eighteen to my sixteen and had offered to get me a lager, and that was it. True love forever. I didn’t care about his size; I fell in love with him.

We moved in together to his small terraced house when I was twenty and he was twenty-two. He said it was too much hassle to add me to the mortgage so we agreed I would pay the bills. Fry-ups and chocolate binges meant we got larger and larger. Two years ago Marcus returned home saying he had joined Slimming Universe. I felt it was something we could do together but he was adamant he wanted to go alone. Said we needed to spend some evenings independent to each other so we’d have things to talk about. Secretly, I was so miserable I barely ate and lost an extra stone I could have done without, with little effort. I went to the gym and smacked punch bags and toned up. Marcus saw it as a competition. He started losing huge amounts of weight and bringing home certificates. One year later he was their Slimmer of the Year, featuring in magazines. He started running his own club with great success.

I stashed away chocolate and settled on hovering between a size twelve and fourteen.

“Earth calling Daisy.”

“Err, what?”

“You’re staring into space in my hallway. Come in. Let’s get you warmed up and a cup of tea.”

“Where are the evil pixies?” I look around cautiously.

“At Rex’s mothers. He’s taken them for a visit, the poor woman.”

Kathy has two sons, aged four and three, and a little blonde beauty aged five. The third one was a surprise. They are loveable rogues and the nickname evil pixies comes from their own mother.

“Right, come through to the kitchen then. It’s relatively clean seeing as they’ve had tea out.”

Kathy’s relatively clean is far removed from my own idea. The floor is littered with at least that morning’s catapulted cereal. The sink is full of dishes and the bin is overflowing with an orange juice carton half hung through the opening. An evil smell emits from the bin, suggestive of it being a couple of days since it was last emptied. What looks like remnants of pasta sauce is dribbled down the front of it.

Kathy fills and then flicks the kettle on at the socket.

“So how long has this being going on then?”

“I don’t know.” I sniff again and Kathy reaches over for a tissue in a well-practiced manner. I’ve become child number four, complete with snotty nose.

“Maybe it’s just a fling. You’ve been together so long, perhaps he wanted to see what someone else was like. It could be all out of his system now.”

“She apparently has better tits than me and a tighter foo.”

“Oh.” Kathy’s jaw tightens. “Tell me he did not fucking go there.”

Now, my friend Kathy is lovely, but if she experiences anything unjustified she fires up like the Human Torch.

“So it’s your fault he’s strayed? Is that what he’s implying? Because your vagina isn’t what it used to be and you try and do Kegels, but it’s boring. So it’s not as elastic as before. It still takes a penis.”

“Eh?”

“Oh, sorry. I hope you hit him. Did you punch him? Did you scratch her eyes out and pull her hair?”

“No. I ran to the pub. That’s where he found me and told me about my inadequate body.”

“So what are you going to do?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. I’ve nowhere to live, so I may have to move back into the house and see how it goes.”

“You will not. You’ll stay here until you’ve had some proper time to think.”

“I can’t stay here. There are five of you as it is in three bedrooms.”

“Nonsense. The kids will be fine all in one room. Rex will do some re-arranging when he gets home. We have a camp bed. It’s not the comfiest thing ever but it will do you for a couple of nights.”

My tummy rumbles.

“Have you eaten?” she asks me.

“No. I don’t have much of an appetite.”

Kathy reaches in the fridge for some leftover lasagne, which explains the bin splashes.

“I’ll warm you some of this up. Mince for protein. Brain food, so you can think straight.”

I smile at her and say thank you, while inwardly berating myself for not asking in the pub for some takeaway miniatures to get me through the night.

***

Now, I love my best friend. I do. However, the evil pixies make me think my choice of bus shelter would have been a wiser idea. The following Monday I already look as though I’ve done ten rounds with Mike Tyson and used the vacuum cleaner to dry my hair. I have this nervous twitch in my right eye that’s suddenly appeared from nowhere, and I flinch at the slightest sound, my nerves frayed.

“Kathy!” I shout up the stairs, hoping I’m heard above the screaming trio. There’s a funny smell rolling down and I back away slightly. I swear I can see the green Bisto vapours flowing fluidly through the air. “You seen my work cravat?”

I’m already late for work and I jig about on the spot, my bladder cursing me at the choice I made to use the work loo instead of braving the smell currently secreting from Kathy’s bathroom.

Kathy appears at the top of the stairs with Billy, her youngest, attached to her leg. I squint. It appears Billy is humping her leg like a dog.
I am never having kids. Ever!
“Sorry,” she mouths as she unwraps my cravat from around a freaky looking dolly’s body and throws it down to me.

Nodding, I mouth back, deciding not to waste my time with an actual voice as it’s never heard. “I’m off. Catch you there!”

I’m still tying the piece of material around my neck as I clamber into the waiting taxi.

The driver quirks his brow at me through the mirror. I glare at him when it’s obvious his wide eyes are taking in the state of my hair. “What? It’s a wet day!” After chasing Kathy’s kids around all morning for my stuff, all I had managed was to quickly pin it up on the top of my head. Besides, messy buns are in right now!

Raising his other eyebrow, he smirks and pulls away.

After a weird morning of sniggers, strange looks and sideways glances, Mr Bennet, my boss, calls me into his office.

His eyes widen as he stares with incredulity at my head before he blinks and lowers them to my chest, and he gestures to the chair opposite him. “Daisy,” he begins, his face still fixed on my boobs. I like my boss, he’s usually okay. He’s never once let his gaze roam and I glare at him, crossing my arms over my ample breasts – with apparently extra-small nipples. I’ve worked for the local Post Office for around four years now, and although it’s hard work and long hours, it suits my lifestyle.

Sighing, Mr Bennet looks down at his lap and then sighs again. This gets my attention and I stiffen with anxiety. He’s never one to mince words, so I know it’s bad news before he even manages to spit out the words. “I’m going to have to let you go, Daisy.”

I laugh. But it soon peters out when I take in his slow nod. “W-What?”

“I’m so sorry, Daisy. It’s not my decision. Head office has told me I have to lower workforce numbers. Financial problems, or so I’ve been told. You and Mary were the last in…” He shrugs, the gesture finishing his statement for him.

“I…”

Mr Bennet winces at the high pitch of my one syllable.

“I’m so sorry, Daisy. You’ve been a good worker.”

“Not good enough, obviously!”

He shifts uneasily at my anger and pushes his specs up his nose. He still refuses to look me in the eyes, and now I know why.

I can see the guilt on his face, but I also see resoluteness. Not wanting to embarrass myself, I shift my chair back and stand up. My eyes well but I blink back the tears. “Right.”

Finally, he looks up at me. His lips press together but he stands and holds out his hand. “Again, I’m so sorry, Daisy. It isn’t my call. I’ll get Lucy to prepare your severance package. You’ll be paid until the end of your six months’ contract.”