Page 50 of Two Wrongs
I’ll have to tell her.
She’ll shit a brick.
I think.
Maybe I can tell Dad, and he can tell her?
Maybe if I promise him a safe house afterwards.
‘Are you listening?’
‘What? Sorry, I was thinking.’
‘Thinking?’ questions Ted. ‘You looked more like you’d swallowed a razor blade concealed in a nugget of poo.’
‘Poo!’ scoffs Nat, clasping her hands under her chin. ‘My, aren’t we a delicate wee flower. It’s shite, y’bawbag. It’s no wonder you can’nae get a date. You might look like a bear, but you have the personality of a prig.’
‘I can too get ma’self a date! I’m just discerning. Unlikesome peopleI could mention.’
Nat pulls a face in answer before actually answering. ‘Then maybe next time you start your griping, I won’t help.’
‘The cheek of her!’ Ted exclaims, turning to me as though to find a sympathetic ear. ‘You know what she did to me last week?’
I shake my head, not really interested in hearing, but feeling as though I should try. Try to sound interested, at least.
‘We went for pizza Monday night, and she introduced me to a man—a friend, she said.’
‘Hang on a minute. Where was my invite?’ I ask, suddenly a bit put out.
‘We knocked on the way past,’ Nat replies. ‘There was’nae any answer. Then we saw your car heading out of town.’
Oh. I was going to the doctor’s. This is a prime example of how impossible it is to keep secrets in this village. Or as Nat might say... what exactly does she say? Something about farting and everyone knowing about it before the smell.
She has a way with words, that girl.
I didn’t say it was a great way.
‘Never mind about that now,’ Ted says, grabbing my arm. ‘She,’ he says pointedly, throwing Nat a mildly evil glare, ‘tells me her friend is in property and that he lives in a gated community.’
‘Sounds like a catch.’
‘That’s what I thought! And then I found out he was a burglar—a bloomin’ house thief!’
‘Oh.’ I purse my lips, trying not to laugh. I suppose that’ssort ofinto property, isn’t it?
‘Mmmhmm.’ Ted’s mouth twists in one corner. ‘Go on, tell her what kind of gated community he lives in.’
Nat’s shoulders begin to shake, which isn’t a good sign. Moments later, the answer is expelled from her mouth, a little like a bullet from a gun.
‘Prison!’
‘He was on weekend release,’ Ted adds, unimpressed.
‘Oh, Nat,’ I admonish, my attempt at not laughing entirely unsuccessful. ‘That wasn’t very nice.’
‘Nice? I’m a gem. He was a hottie! And it didn’t stop him from going home with the crim.’
‘I asked him about ma’ house’s security, thank you very much! Anyway, nothing happened. I never put out on a first date.’
