Am a bit busy today. Took Fred off to the station. He’s going to Paris again tonight lucky thing gets to stay in a posh hotel. Then I’ll do the ponies, then zoom to Cambridge for the wondrous Herceptin, then if I get back in time, RDA in the afternoon, come back via the farm shop, then flute lessons. So I will just give you a picture of Tabby being a frog in Animal Studies. It makes me happy because I realise that Tabby has been doing science all along, I just never realised it. It’s obvious from the picture that she has really understood ‘frogness’.
Chapter 9. Shoulda looked it up in the Directory.
Yeah, so the ‘just not thinking about it’ weren’t working that well. I started to wake up in the middle of the night worryin about the horde coming round and gettin me husband off of me. Or asking for loads of money, or like fighting over the house, like it were theirs or something.
I went round Pat’s with a fresh loada man-milk and asked if I could go in for coffee. ‘Course, love,’ she said.
‘Pat?’ I said. ‘How many babies do you think have been made out of Matt’s sperm?’
She looked at me and dragged a hand through her grey frizz. ‘Oh, not that many,’ she said.
‘I think …they’re like…. comin to get me?’ I said. ‘If that makes sense?’
‘No, no, that can’t be true,’ she reassured me. ‘They wouldn’t know where you live.’
But later, when she’d gone into the other room to check on a lady, Tass whispered, ‘Hey, Shardie.’
‘Pat told me the other day she reckons your Matt’s got like three hundred and fifty kids.’
‘Three hundred and fifty, she said. She’s been keeping a tally.’
‘Bloody Hell!’ I shrieked.
‘Sshh,’ Tass whispered, ‘She’ll not be wanting you to know that! Shush!’
‘But what am I going to do? Three hundred and fifty of the little bastards? And all wantin a bleedin Father no doubt.‘
‘Well, did you never think of that before? Did you not think of the consequences of all this sperm donation?’
I stared at her with my jaw like litrally hitting the floor. OMG, so that’s what consequences meant! Truth of it were, whenever anyone asked me about them ‘consequence’ thingies, I’d never liked to say I didn’t really get what the word meant. I shoulda taken the time to look it up in the directory shouldn’t I?
‘I….I just decided not to think about it really. I kinda thought they wouldn’t know. How did them little buggers find out who their father were? Who told em? That were never part of the deal?’
‘It’s not that. No one breathed a word. But unfortunately in your case, it’s the visuals, innit? Those kiddies are just the spittin image of him aren’t they? Something about the lip….the eyes, the hair….’
‘Yeah,’ I sighed. ‘Don’t I know it.’
‘And truth of it is,’ she whispered, ‘Pat’s ‘clinic’ here does mainly serve quite a local population. We’ve never had to go far to find clients. The demand is just….phenomenal, really.’
‘Oh, well, damage is done now, I spose,’ I sighed. I’ll just have to learn to live with the…you know…..bloody consequence thingies.’
I went and booked meself a spray tan so’s I wouldn’t think about it no more. Cos at the end of the day, I personally think that if it’s doin yer head in, that’s not helpin anyone is it? No one is bein helped by me havin me head done in, is what I’m saying. So might as well get on and get out, meet Shelley in Nando’s, see what bargains is to be had in Asda, have meself a posh sandwich in Subway, maybe even see what’s on at the Square in Harlow. Me and Debs coupla times even went to a silent disco! You wear headphones and dance to whatever you like. I’m tellin ya, it’s a scream! It’s like LMFAO, that means laugh your fuckin arse off, you should give it a go.
Chapter 10. Sebastian.
So I went out for cocktails at Baroosh Friday around five thirty. Met up with Debs and Shelley. We did have a larf. The lads behind the bar was giving us extra big measures. I drank three Mojitos and two Screwdrivers and one Pleasant Fucker. Came over all wobbly on the way out. Fell over on the pavement! What am I like?! Had a right giggle with a chap who helped me up. Debs drove me home.
I could hardly get the key in the lock I were that pissed. Seeing double and that. I threw me bag on the chair and staggered into the lounge. Oh, God. That hunky lad were back, with just one girl this time, and they was only sitting on the settee talkin to me husband.
Matt stared at me. His eyes looked afraid. Something had changed in him.
‘Shardie,’ he started. ‘I have to be brave and come out with it, darling. This…young man…..Sebastian….is claiming somehow that….’ he hesitated, ‘I am his father.’
The girl looked embarrassed. She looked down. Sebastian took her hand.
I rolled my eyes. ‘Well, yeah, he would do!’ I said. ‘Everyone wants a bit of all this. Shnormal.’ I gestured around the lounge at the shag pile and our enormous wide-screen TV what is as big as the whole wall. (I know! Half price, since you’re askin, from The Range in Harlow.)
‘Shardie?’ questioned Matt, narrowing his eyes. ‘Did you know about this?’
‘What? Shuddup!’ I said. ‘You shouldn’t of kept on texting Miss Prissy Pants now should ya?’
He came right up to me and whispered fiercely: ‘Shardie, are you really saying that you knew anything about all this? You knew that it was possible I had a child?’
Oops, Loooool, A child! Ha, bloody Ha! He din’t know the half of it!
He turned to the boy. ‘Listen, Sebastian. I don’t quite get this. Who is your mother? Is she claiming that I somehow had….relations with her? How old are you? I have been solely with Shardonnay here for the last sixteen years.’
‘I am fifteen,’ said Sebastian. ‘I don’t know how I know it, I just feel it in my bones. I saw you in the street, I had to follow you home. I’m sorry but…I feel that you must be my father. And…oh God…’ He clutched the hand of the girl so tight he were twistin her skin.
‘What, dear child?’ asked Matt.
He whispered it. ‘I know around ten other kids who believe you’re their dad as well….’
The girl stared at Matt out of unblinkin eyes, noddin, noddin away, her hair shining reddish, like strawberry blond she were, under me spotlights.
Luckily this were all too much for Matt. He just couldn’t take it in. ‘Sorry? What did you say? Oh, no, now you’re being ridiculous. Go on, get out. Had enough! Bugger off.’ He hustled them to the door and shoved them out. ‘Go on, get away with you, you scheming creatures.’
‘Honestly!’ I exclaimed, as we listened to their feet scrunching away across the gravel. ‘Some people stop at nothin, eh? Thing is, love,’ I said, stroking my husband’s face, ‘you’re so gorgeous, there’s a whole load of poor deluded people going to wish with all their hearts that you was their father, course they are.’
Flattered, he let himself be guided to bed, where I extracted the evening dose, spat into the jar and ran it across the road. I then took him some hot chocolate to soothe his nerves, aah bleeess the poor man.