Page 48 of Guilty Mothers

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Page 48 of Guilty Mothers

‘Yeah, we got that, Tiff,’ Penn said.

‘So what happened to his stuff?’

Penn felt the smile tug at his lips. Honestly, he hadn’t given that a thought.

In this particular instance, two heads were definitely working better than one.

THIRTY-THREE

The premises of the ERA were in a small office suite in a building at the end of Brierley Hill High Street.

The door was answered by a woman in her mid-twenties, wearing denim dungarees with half of the front flapping open. The tee shirt beneath was pink and sported a one-finger salute.

Kim held up her ID and asked if they could come in.

‘How can I refuse a woman in charge?’ she said, stepping aside. ‘And I’m Bobbi, Bobbi Carter, chief volunteer of all that you survey,’ she went on, making a sweeping motion with her hand.

What she surveyed was small but impressive. Four glass desks butted up to each other in the middle of the room. Each desk held a large screen and a keyboard-and-mouse combination. The chairs were identical. The fun stuff was against the walls. She saw two fruit machines, pinball, a dart board and a flatscreen TV.

‘We’re volunteers, funded by people who support our cause but don’t have a lot of time,’ Bobbi explained, following Kim’s gaze. ‘Gotta have a bit of fun while doing our good work.’

Kim wondered if this was how the Google offices had looked in the early days.

‘And what work do you do?’ she asked, pulling out one of the seats.

‘Education, primarily,’ Bobbi said, taking a seat but rolling herself away from the desks. ‘Equality is a constant fight. The suffragettes started it, and we have a huge responsibility to continue it. We can’t allow the momentum to slow. Women are battling the patriarchy in every?—’

‘Not all women,’ Bryant said, nodding Kim’s way.

‘What, you think you’re a hero cos you have a female boss and you don’t make a fuss about it? Fuck, give the man a medal. Thanks for allowing the little woman to do her?—’

‘I’m only saying that we’re not all bad,’ Bryant defended himself.

Bobbi slapped her own head. ‘Lord save me. I bet any money you’re part of the “all lives matter” crew. Am I right?’ she asked in a direct challenge.

‘They do,’ Bryant answered.

‘So, when you donate your fiver to the hurricane victims of the Philippines, do you send a fiver to every other charity in the world?’

‘Well, no.’

‘Exactly, but they all matter too. At that moment, your focus goes to who needs the help most. A catch-all doesn’t cut it. You telling me you’re one of the good guys doesn’t help me one bit unless you’re prepared to call out the bad ones. It’s like?—’

‘Bobbi,’ Kim said, refocussing her attention. As entertaining as it was watching Bryant get schooled, it wasn’t the purpose of the visit. Although she’d be happy to set up another appointment for it to continue. ‘We understand you’ve been trying to educate Carly Spencer on pageants.’

‘Absolutely. It’s our duty.’

‘To intimidate, abuse and induce fear in another woman?’

Bobbi shrugged. ‘You can’t make an omelette without cracking eggs. Some women need to be educated about their obligation to fight the system, not play into it.’

‘Is it your obligation to put a brick through her window?’

‘Of which you have proof?’ Bobbi demanded.

‘I have the photo on your website,’ Kim countered.

‘I took a photo of the damage as I passed it on my way in this morning,’ Bobbi returned.




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