A Life in the Day of Rosemary Booker - The Woody Back to School ...

57
I roll my eyes. As I said earlier I have not
been so fortunate. It is barely two weeks since I last
took an unfortunate trip over Dotty’s knee and the
sounds of Lisa being spanked in the kitchen had made
me experience an unpleasant feeling of déjà vu. Only
Nixdown could possibly consider the effects of the
wooden spatula rebounding of her upturned arse to
be delightful. Personally I subscribe to Lisa’s school of
thinking. I hate that fucking spatula.
I spoon some yoghurt over my Greek salad
and then fork a piece of cucumber into my mouth.
Nixdown ignores her own plate and stares at
me intently.
“Well?” she asks.
“Well what?” I reply after I have finished my
cucumber, although I know perfectly well what she
wants to know and that I’m only postponing the
inevitable.
She raises an eyebrow archly. “Oh come on
Rosie, I heard you and Debs getting whopped last
night,” she giggles. “It sounded like Claire thought
she was beating a carpet.”
I roll my eyes in resignation. It is an exercise in
futility to even try to divert the direction that this
conversation is about to take. Nixdown is tenacious
and she will not rest until she has squeezed every last
little detail out of me.
“It felt like she was beating a carpet,” I say
finally. “That gal whops too hard, she should come
with a government health warning.”
Nixdown grins and picks at her own salad. She
is satisfied now that she has me on the hook.