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I knew that this was most definitely the school the Henrys were considering for her – shit they weren’t even considering, this was a done deal. There was nothing comparable for miles around, so unless they were going to move, it would have the same conclusion for my daughter – they were going to send her away to school, and it was most definitely going to be Bellvale. It was a boarding school for ages five to eighteen, no day pupils were accepted, and Judge Teddy Foster was its Head Governor and major investor; Judge Teddy Foster who was none other than the father of Olivia Henry.
Like shit would my four-year-old daughter be adopted and then sent away to school. She’d had enough crap in her short life. Now was the time for her to be part of a real family. A family that ate dinner together, a family that took the rise out of each other, a family where the mom put notes in her kids lunchbox telling them she loved them.
“James Jenson.”
“James, it’s Dex Michaels,” I said. “I’ve made my decision.”
“You went to see the Henrys?” he asked on the other end. “I told you they’re good people, Dex.”
“Yeah, they are,” I replied. “Just not good enough for my daughter, so I’m taking her home with me.”
Katie
I hadn’t heard from Dex in almost four days, and I was getting more and more stressed by it. I’d convinced myself that he wasn’t coming home, but didn’t know how to tell me. The last time I’d spoken to him hadn’t help to ease my nerves; I’d said hi and he’d said, ‘sorry darlin’, I’m in the middle of something, I’ll call you back’; but he never did.
“He’s not coming back,” I stated as Mandy maneuvered the shopping trolley into the bread aisle.
“He’d tell you if he wasn’t. He’d certainly tell that Jethro guy that works for him, and he’d tell the staff, which means Isaac would know, which means you would too.” She sighed and picked up a large French stick, throwing it into the trolley.
“Hey,” I groaned. “Be careful with the bread. You’ll damage it.”
She looked at me with a frown. “This is my shopping, not yours, so no need to get your knickers in a twist about it. Oh and talking of knickers, did you go to that shop I suggested?”
I nodded. “Yeah, for all the good it’ll do me. He won’t be coming back to see them, or my freshly waxed vagina.”
“I’m very proud of you,” Mandy replied earnestly. “You hardly cried at all.”
She’d persuaded me to go and get waxed – a nice surprise for Dex when he got home – and like a fool, who’d drunk far too many glasses of wine, I agreed and let her go online and book me appointment.
“I don’t think they’ve ever had to provide a full box of tissues for a client before,” I said, cringing at the memory of two members of staff trying to comfort me, all while Mandy stood in the corner howling with laughter.
“To say it was worse than child birth was a little over the top.”
Mandy took some bread buns from the shelf, and with a side look at me, threw them on top of the French stick.
“It was, to be honest,” I replied, helping myself to some buns too and placing them carefully at one end of Mandy’s trolley. “My three shot out so easily, you’d think I’d been trained by Sticky Vicky.”
“Ooh the thought of her show disgusts me. Have you ever seen it?” Mandy asked as we moved out of the bread aisle.
I nodded. Carl and I had been on holiday to Benidorm, before we had the kids, and had spent a drunken night watching her stage show, where she produced flags, balloons, and scarves from her fangita, even shooting out ping-pong balls at one point.
“It’s a bit boring to be honest,” I sighed. “The highlight was her opening a bottle of beer with it.”
“No way, she didn’t.”
I raised a brow, nodded, and picked up a packet of frankfurter sausages.
“Okay,” Mandy said. “Back to Dex. Have you tried calling him?”
“Not since he said he’d call me back. I just sent a text yesterday, asking if he was okay and got a, ‘All good, talk soon. Miss you’, with two kisses on the end of it.”
Mandy didn’t respond, which meant she wasn’t getting good vibes. She was only ever quiet when the vibes were bad.
“You’re not getting good vibes about it are you?” I whined.
“I wouldn’t say they weren’t good, just a bit…I don’t know…roguish.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
