Gucci Mamas (23 page)

Cliff’s meaty paw clutched the roof of his new Maserati GranSport Spyder as he hauled himself out of the low seat with an old-man grunt. He’d traded his conservative BMW 760 Li for this new phallic-compensator and was rapt with how it now caught the fillies’ attention as he sped down Chapel Street. He saw those hot bits of stuff eyeing off his powerful machine and imagined their panties getting damp from the roar of his Spyder. If he hadn’t been in such a hurry he’d have stopped and done a couple of them a big favour in the back seat.

He hitched his new Jagmen jeans over his flabby gut, and decisively zipped up his black leather jacket.

I am
so
the man, he decided arrogantly.

As he headed toward the gym, beads of sweat sprang to life on his hairy back and his butt muscles tightened with anticipation. He’d arranged to meet Clary tonight and his dick had already sprung into action like a divining rod, pulling him in the direction of his mistress.

‘Fuck that Viagra’s good stuff,’ Cliff thought to himself smugly. He’d taken a double dose tonight, so Clary had better be up for some serious action. She was getting the goods today – not just the sizzling package in his pants – but also the news that from tonight he was free; free to be hers, unburdened from the suffocating shackles of family life and that dumb bitch Tiffany.

Mind you, he corrected himself, she’d gone all silicone now. But her desperate attempt to win him back was too little too late – anyway, underneath all that work she was still almost forty.

He’d told her earlier tonight. The moll, she’d just laughed at him. How dare she laugh? Didn’t she realise she’d be fucking nothing without him?

He should have gone with his first plan and just texted her. Oh well, it was done now.

He snuck in a side door of the gym and spied Clary packing up the equipment from her after-school gymnastics class. Christ, her hard titties and hot little arse look fucking fantastic in the lycra leotard, Cliff thought, licking his lips. With so much blood rushing to his crotch it was all he could do to think clearly. He came up behind her as she bent to retrieve hoops from the floor, grabbing her hips and grinding savagely into her pelvis.

Clary looked up from under her straw-like bleached mane as her head dangled upside-down, and grinned at her man; the one she had so cleverly lured from his fat wife and ugly kids and would soon be married to, with complete bank-account access and a full set of credit cards. Now that made her wet.

It was more than enough to make up for his tragically small and often soft cock, Clary thought with satisfaction, happy with the compromise she had struck for herself.

‘G’day, stud-muffin,’ she purred. ‘You’ve taken your time
to show.’ She stuck a finger in her mouth provocatively and sucked it noisily.

‘Well I’m here now, gorgeous,’ he said by way of foreplay, and, pulling her upright, pushed her hard against the pommel horse, smashing his teeth against hers in a battle of tongues and saliva.

Her tits were unreal, he thought as he groped them roughly. So firm and high.

Clary peeled off her leotard and stood naked before him. ‘So, big man, what have you got for your little Clary?’ It was always best to get things over with as quickly as possible so they could go shopping, she’d discovered.

Cliff’s mottled red hands were shaking as he fumbled with his YSL belt buckle and pushed his jeans and Y-fronts down around his hairy ankles. ‘How do you like my weapon of mass erection?’ he asked proudly, flipping his mistress towards him as she threw one leg over the pommel horse.

He grabbed her shoulders as he went to work, giddy with lust and excitement.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, how good am I? How fucking good am I? his thoughts thumped in rhythm with his inept thrusting. Look at the hot little unit I’ve scored.

The moonlight reflected off his fleshy white arse as his performance heightened then quickly died. He gave one last dramatic thrust, just to prove some kind of point, and heard the dreadful crack beneath him as the pommel horse gave way.

Lithe gymnast that she was, Clary had the dexterity to leap away. But Big Man Cliff, with his jocks around his ankles and more blood in his member than his brain, didn’t register the danger in time. The fifty-kilo pommel horse fell forwards, and Cliff, bare-arsed and panting, fell with it. Tangled by his own trousers, he fell awkwardly, twisting his
back and landing square on one steel leg of the equipment, noisily snapping three lower vertebrae.

By the time the ambulance arrived, Clary was respectable and had, at his insistence, dressed Cliff, causing immense pain and further spinal damage.

Delirious with pain as he was strapped to a gurney and loaded into the back of an ambulance, Cliff was in too much agony to notice his now-former girlfriend making eyes at the strapping young paramedic.

Ellie shut the car door with a solid European ‘whumph’. She tugged her multi-coloured striped Eugenie sweater and took a deep breath. A heavy rain had fallen last night and the landscaped gardens and playing fields of Langholme Grammar seemed relieved at this momentary break from the drought.

Damn, what a morning to be on reading duty, Ellie thought as she helped Rupert and his school bag, library bag, sports bag and violin case out of the car. But I refuse to ditch, I will not sink to their level.

She walked past the CPM standing in their usual spot at the playground edge like a group of vultures waiting to attack. As Ellie passed, they angled their bodies away and she was sure she overheard one say, ‘There she is.’

Her resolve strengthened. She was determined to see this day through. With a sigh Ellie made her way into the school and into the den of the Mothers Superior.

LJ’s exhibition had opened last night. Just when Ellie thought she was going to be sitting at home, wallowing in
the humiliation, Bryce had whisked her to Aria at 1 Macquarie Street in Sydney, a world-renowned restaurant overlooking Circular Quay. They’d got back to Melbourne by 1 a.m. and though she was a little tired this morning, she was grateful for Bryce’s thoughtfulness.

She walked towards the Reading Mums, who were in a tight group, gossiping excitedly, and Ellie didn’t need to guess too hard what the topic was as they suddenly fell silent at her approach.

‘Hang up your bag, sweetie, reader in the reading box and into class.’ She guided Rupert off to his morning chores, then, steeling herself, she approached the reading box to select the first victim for the morning. Naturally, the Reading Mums guarded the box as their own personal domain and she had to break through the group to get on with her duties.

‘Morning, Ellie,’ said Mary, turning her head over her shoulder. ‘Good night last night?’

‘Yes, it was fabulous actually.’ She briefly filled the ladies in on her evening.

‘Really, that was kind of him,’ said one of the other mothers in a disbelieving fashion. ‘Special occasion, was it?’

‘No, not really, he just wanted to surprise me,’ Ellie said, taking the next reader.

‘We actually attended LJ’s opening last night. Very glamorous affair,’ boasted Trixie.

The mums had all been rather chuffed when they received an invitation to LJ’s exhibit. She normally excluded most of the school mums, except for those on society’s A-list. When the parents had arrived at the glamorous event, they were shocked, and a little insulted, to discover most of Langholme Grammar was in attendance. Even the principal and his little wife were there.

‘Really, how was it?’ Ellie asked with little enthusiasm.

‘Oh, weren’t you invited, darling? Sorry, put my foot in it. I presumed you would have been …
everyone
was there,’ said Trixie.

‘I was invited, but declined,’ said Ellie, wishing Trixie would dry up and go away.

‘Well, it was unbelievable. The photographers; the canapés; the exquisite champagne. She does it so well. But the art, Ellie, the art! Truly spectacular, she’s really outdone herself this time.’

‘Yes, she has,’ agreed Ellie, thinking, Just kill me now.

‘There was the most amazing piece at the entrance of the gallery, Ellie, you really should pop along and see it,’ Trixie spoke with insincere wide-eyed innocence. ‘This girl was a dead ringer for you. Really, could be your twin. Of course, I haven’t seen quite as much of you as this girl was displaying.’ Trixie was truly enjoying this ridiculous charade.

‘It
was
me,’ said Ellie in a flat voice.

‘Sorry?’ said Trixie and all the women stopped smirking and looked at her, open-mouthed. They were flabbergasted. They hadn’t expected a confession. It took all the fun out of the game.

‘I said, it
was
me.’

‘Oh, really, well … um … there you go then,’ Trixie’s intention had been thwarted and she was at a loss as to how to continue.

Ellie saved her the trouble, turned sharply and went into the classroom to begin reading with the first boy. Just out of earshot she heard one of them, she couldn’t tell which, say to another, ‘I always knew she was common.’

‘So how’d it go?’ said Mim after the waiter had left their lattes and moved away.

‘Oh – my – God,’ Ellie’s face was drawn, her shoulders reflecting her defeated mood. ‘It was hideous. The stupid
bitches were loving it. How am I going to face the rest of the year at that school? The principal was there last night, for chrissakes.’

‘Oh jeez, I hadn’t thought of that,’ said Mim as her hand flew to her mouth. ‘Did you see him this morning?’

‘Yes, as a matter of fact I did; you know how normally he rushes past to show he’s very busy? Well, today as he passed me in the hall I got the benefit of a huge toothy grin – slimeball.’

‘Oh, Ellie, he’s such a sleaze,’ Mim said in shock. ‘So, what now?’

‘I’d love to just change schools, move cities, change our names and start all over, but obviously that’s ridiculous,’ Ellie said, stirring her latte thoughtfully. ‘I did have one plan that I think could be quite wonderful.’

‘Do tell,’ said Mim, pleased to see Ellie was thinking positively.

‘Well, Bryce and I have always dreamed of doing the Italy thing – you know, living in a little village, kids at the local school, learning how to cook fabulous pastas and things like that. I thought this might be the perfect time to do it. I don’t want to appear to be running away, but if I can last out till the end of term and leave with a bit of dignity, in twelve months surely it will all have blown over.’

‘Ellie, how marvellous! What an opportunity for the children, they’ll pick up the language in no time. And you and Bryce will absolutely love it!’ Mim was thrilled at this idea.

‘Yes, it’s quite exciting, isn’t it? And with all the planning and packing, I won’t have time to dwell on other things.’ Ellie looked up with a tired smile. ‘So, tell me the worst, how was it really?’

‘Oh, well it was quite tacky. All the usual suspects, two-bit actors, has-been comedians, tired old socialites who
attend the opening of a paper bag. Everyone was very critical of LJ’s “artistic” endeavours, unless it was to her face, of course. The shot of you is actually quite beautiful, you know, Ellie. It really is. Killer bod.’

‘Thanks, Mim,’ Ellie smiled. ‘Not something I intend to hang above the fireplace in the formal living room. I barely remember it being taken and I never actually saw the photo.’

‘Well, pretty much everyone you know has seen it now, unfortunately, darling,’ Mim said as gently as she could. ‘It was actually the only image the media was interested in.’

‘Oh God, can it get any worse?’ Ellie moaned into her latte. ‘Those bloody journalists are such vultures.’

‘I know, darling. All the society photographers were there, and it will be on Kerri-Anne today, too. So I am afraid it’s going to get worse before it gets better.’

‘Never mind, Mim, it will all be fine. I’ve been through worse than this. It’s a real bugger, though, I thought it was all behind me. I guess you can never really escape from your past.

‘Now, enough about me, even I’m getting bored. How about you? How’s it all going? How is poor old James? That gave me a scare when you rang and told me. Is he going to have to have a bypass?’

‘Well, he’s out of hospital on Thursday, then we see the specialist and have tests in two weeks’ time, but obviously he’s been told to take it very easy between now and then. I was planning a weekend away for just the two of us and I think I’ll extend it into a week and really give him a quiet, restful time in the country – no phones, kids or work stresses.’ Mim smiled with exhaustion at her friend. ‘But thanks for calling me so often this week, you’ve really given me strength.’

‘Oh, don’t be daft,’ said Ellie with a flick of her manicured fingers to dismiss the unnecessary gratitude. ‘So, where are you thinking of going?’ she asked.

‘I hadn’t really thought about it yet, maybe down to the Peninsula. I was thinking of the beach-house but it’s such a long drive and also I think we both need to be looked after. I’m not feeling a hundred per cent either and my nerves are absolutely shot.’

‘Would you consider Moorooduc?’

‘Moorooduc? Why Moorooduc? It’s just a sleepy little country town, isn’t it? I don’t really know anything about it except you drive past it at a hundred kilometres an hour on your way to Portsea.’

‘Isn’t that what you’re after? A sleepy little town?’

‘Well, yes, I guess so. Do you know a place we can stay?’

‘As a matter of fact I do,’ Ellie smiled. ‘I know the perfect place for you both. Let me just make a quick call.’