Kendra gave Bianca a why-did-you-open-your-big-mouth look in the mirror. Bianca mouthed a sorry. “He’s no one. It’s just I’m moving on now. Bianca’s right, I don’t care about Will. Will is history. Will and his baby-mama and that poor, poor child.”

“Done!” Bianca said, standing back to get a look at her handiwork. “Now let’s go.”

Hyacinth packed up the picnic and walked with them out the door and down to the pavement where her ancient red bicycle was locked to the light pole. “So Asra? Is that a Saudi Arabian name? Didn’t they write the Kama Sutra?”

“Mum! He is not Saudi Arabian and please if ever you meet him could you not bring up the Kama Sutra?” Kendra was forever embarrassed by her mother. She had no boundaries about anything. Everything was acceptable conversation no matter the situation. She could already see it- Asra pushed into a corner and her mother and Fred contorted into some odd shape and asking him if they’d got it right. Asra’s face blank and petrified. Note to self, Kendra thought, never introduce Asra to Fred and her mother.

Her mother unlocked her bike and put her picnic in the carry basket at the back. “Ok darling, whatever you say. You girls have a nice time. Are you still coming for brunch next Sunday? Fred is making a vegetarian turkey on the barbecue.”

“Yes I’m coming.” Fred was odd, perfect for her mother, but Kendra loved him. Fred was basically what stood in for Kendra’s father since her biological father’s identity was a bit murky. Her mother spent a few years living in a commune in America where drugs and sex were free and plentiful. Her father was either Richard, who went on to become a chemical engineer after starting his career experimenting on acid, or Branch, a man who was apparently one sixteenth Native American , Chippewa, and worked as a car mechanic, or Cal, the one my mother hoped most was not the one, who now worked as an executive at a bank, a job her mother believed was only a step up from Satan. Kendra learned to deal with the fact that her biological father would never be known and besides she loved Fred like she would a real father in any case. It didn’t matter anymore.

“It will mean so much to him. You know he’s turning 55. Still as feisty in the bedroom as ever.” Her mother winked at her.

“Mum! I don’t want to hear about you and Fred’s sex life, thanks. Bye. We are going.” She gave her mother a kiss and watched her ride off toward the East End. Kendra yelled after her, “Be careful on that speedster of yours!”

Bianca stood waiting, not patiently, tapping her patent leather encased toe. “Can we go now?”

“Yes, we can go.” In complete contrast to her mother, they climbed into Bianca’s Jaguar, though it was red too.

“Your mother is a serious weirdo.”

“Yeah,” Kendra said smiling. It was one of the things she loved most about her mother. On the surface she made out that it all annoyed her, but deep down she loved her mother’s odd quirkiness. As they drove towards the club, though, her mood changed. She tried to tell herself she was not going to have her evening ruined by Will and his stupid news, about his stupid girlfriend and their stupid baby. Actually- not stupid baby, the baby couldn’t really be blamed, now could it? She must forget about it all, it had nothing to do with her. That was all the nonsense that filled the mind of the old Kendra. This was the new Kendra. The happy, fun loving Kendra. She needed to concentrate on that. But even while she said it in her mind she could hear the swishing sound of a wet blanket making its way toward her.