One Day in the Life of Ivanka the Bitch, A Novel, Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Penis Extensions

7.53 am — One Foot in Front of the Other, Thaaat’s Riiight…

Join businesswoman Ivanka Tupolevka on the day she’s about to lose everything in the apocalyptic gulag of her divorce, with Brexshit to deal with, no HRT, and surrounded by ‘fuckers’, will she ever escape the psycho ex and save her daughter?

Still networking with the ladies…

‘Lisa,’ Christ, how does she manage to pull off looking annoyed and eager to please at the same time? ‘Have you run out of patches too?’

And there we go, crumpling into a heap before me, it’s all tumbling out. Two months eh? At least it’s only been five days and twelve long hours for me. But seeing her like this, I’m afraid, very afraid of where my actual new ‘true path’ is going.

So it’s not just me then, it happens to her too. Dropped a glass of water on the kitchen floor before she left for the meeting this morning, just a worthless glass, and as it smashed to smithereens both she and poor Kylie flinched awaiting a beating, even though it’s been several years since the itchy tosspot left their lives. It’s massively triggered her nerves and she can’t get her hands on any meds to mitigate the effects either.

Jesus, just how many arseholes are out there? Is it most of them? When I ended up in the refuge and the counsellors were trying to teach us about abusive relationships, it did definitely sound like every woman there was married to the same one sad little man. No class barriers to abuse. That was an education and a half.

And you couldn’t even get that one right, could you Ivanka? And after everything you went through! They wanted to prepare us for the inevitable new love interest lying in wait to ambush us when we left. So they gave us a breakdown of the typical first twenty dates with an abuser and asked us to work out in groups at what point we should recognise the first red flags of an abusive relationship in the offing.

I really thought it was date four when he suddenly didn’t like our choice of clothing or makeup anymore. Other groups argued it was date three when he must stay over to avoid whoever’s after him for whatever; or date five, when, now that he’s settled in, he starts pointing out to you that all your family and friends are just using you. The more enlightened went for date two, when he breaks his heart telling you what a bitch his ex is, for, you have to know by now, that’ll be you in six months’ time.

But we were all wrong. It was date one, agreeing to meet him in a pub or anywhere that serves alcohol. I’m still not sure I agree with that to be honest, but the most revealing thing I will take away from the whole experience, whether listening to ‘touch me, don’t touch me’ Jackie with the ever falling shoulder straps or prickly prim Jill constantly smoothing her silver fringe and fretting about the fate of her cat, well, it was NOT that all their abusive partners all said exactly the same things and exhibited exactly the same behaviours, it was that they KNOW exactly what they are doing when they are doing it. The deathly mistake we all make is believing that they are not aware, that they can’t help it, that it’s not their fault, that they really don’t realise the pain they’re inflicting and that we are the ones who can make it all better, make up for all the love they never received, till now.

Blew my mind to be told that they know damn well what they’re doing. They DO see the pain in your face! They just enjoying feeding on it. If you do get an apology after, it’s not a sudden flash of enlightenment and understanding of self, it’s a resurgence of the hunger and another invitation to the dining table. They have been honing these skills since the day they were born. Yes my love, their entire life really has been a giant rehearsal for the romantic moment they encounter you!

Got to feel for her. “Clumsy cow! You pointless clumsy cow!” is all Lisa can hear in her head as she’s been trying to get through the morning. No wonder she’s busy invoking the Goddess with such vigour!

Go on give her a hug. Make yourself, go on. We’re all in this together. We can hug and commiserate about national shortages of HRT and violent ex-husbands with equal passion and maybe she won’t be offended when I ditch these meetings and ask for my special tenner back.

We’re both free now and should be happy with just that. Freedom. She’s going on a bit now though and needs to get outside herself like me. Should I explain I’m with a lovely bloke now who wouldn’t dream of mistreating me so it proves there are lovely blokes out there and she’s bound to meet one soon? Yeah, why not. She deserves it.

‘Lisa, you’ve got to look after yourself. We’ll get through this but this is just the second wave of Brexit fears, there will be many more. You’ve got to get savvy. Take care of number one! Be the best Mum you can to your daughter. She’s great by the way, a real asset to your business.’ Killer blow, and oh, so great to unload and focus on someone else.

‘Of course she’s great!’ ooh, harsh, ‘I just worry so much for her future now. This country is going to hell in a handcart!’ Lisa’s welling up again. ‘It’s my mother I’m most worried about.’ She looks about then whispers, ‘they’ve cancelled all her benefits pending enquiries.’

‘What? Why?’

‘She met this guy, lovely chap, Eric on that classical music app, you know the one. They’re just friends but she happened to be with him when he had a seizure and had to take him to hospital.’

‘Oh yeah? Life in the old dog yet!’

‘They were out for a walk! Anyway, some bloody do-gooder charity got involved with his case as he couldn’t go home for weeks and God knows what was said in panic but the nurse put them down as a couple and now she’s lost her housing benefit and can’t pay the rent in her sheltered accommodation so now she’s threatening to move in with me!’

‘Oh shit! Why doesn’t she move in with him?’

‘She doesn’t want to be a nursemaid to anybody ever again, even if he was ready to commit! Why should she be his carer suddenly? It was just a bit of fun.’

‘Yeah, I know the feeling.’

‘For fuck’s sake, I’ve only just got my life back!’

Christ! Actually… Things could be a lot worse. What a horrific prospect. Never thought I’d say this but thank God my mother is such an unlovable witch. At least I can escape up to Artur’s and we are making plans. But imagine her joining us? Then there are the dogs, cats and seventy-two years of hoarded crap! At least four garages’ worth.

Now Lisa’s choice of speaker makes sense. I wonder if she’s….

No, none of my business. Shit, it’s like our welfare society has gone into reverse. They’ll have us all stacked up in tenements again soon scrabbling for scraps. Like the plague victims bricked up in Edinburgh. What is happening to this country?

I’ve got to stop catastrophising, Artur’s sure it’s taking years off my life. And that probably didn’t happen in Edinburgh, just one of your grandfather’s conspiracy theories. Come on Ivanka, the winner, breathe, smile, shine forth!

‘You know what you need, a good laugh. Listen. Put that scruffy scrofulous scumbag behind you. You know… about all the stuff I was telling you on the phone the other day…? Yes, all that happened, but you know, on a day to day basis, I never give it a second thought anymore. Not a single moment do I waste dwelling on it! You know why? I focus on the future! How?

‘No, listen, this is funny, I have a method. The last time I was in court, no the time before that, about the chattels. Anyway, the judge was really losing her rag with us bickering, and asked if we would step out into the waiting room to just “sort it out”. Ten minutes she gave us. I don’t know why I agreed, I still always give people the benefit of the doubt, that they can be reasonable. Should have known better. You just keep hoping though, don’t you?

‘Well, we went out into one of the waiting rooms and sat in the corner, me against the walls like this. Then that bastard leaned into me and just kept spitting, ‘you’re a liar, you’re a liar, you’re a liar!’ Into my face over and over for the whole ten minutes non-stop. It was horrific. And I did nothing, couldn’t speak! It was like the last few years hadn’t happened and I was straight back to being the same little victim, no change.

‘You see, he never has any intention of really sorting things out he just keeps getting me back there to court as it’s “the only way to make me listen…” And THAT, THAT is his all-important message, nothing other than needing me there to spit at.

‘I was in such a state by the time we got back into the courtroom that I couldn’t focus. I forgot everything I’d been preparing to bring up. And that’s what he wanted to achieve. And I gave it to him on a plate by being willing to see if we could work it out. Although I won when we went back in, it didn’t feel like it. And I forgot to ask for costs because my nerves were shot, so it was a hollow victory anyway, pointless. Nowadays I write ‘COSTS’ large on a piece of A4 and put it on top of my evidence. Court makes you nervous enough without all that behaviour!

‘So, right, I’ve thought a lot about that. A lot. Cos I don’t think he’s finished trying to get things through my thick skull yet. And that is never going to happen to me again! I keep thinking about the other people in the waiting room. They could all hear, could all see what he was doing. But did nothing! And why didn’t I answer back? Move away? Call a guard?

‘I just reverted straight back to the way we were when we were married. Straight back! Pathetic. Nothing had changed. In an instant, four years of being away and learning to know better, all wiped away!

‘So, I know that that will probably happen again, right? At some point in my life, what with kids’ life events and so forth. And I’m not having it! Never again! So listen, this is what I’ve been practising. Because it’s bound to happen, he will keep tracking me down. You have to use shock and awe, temporary “stun and run.”

‘I can’t, obviously, defend myself physically from someone of his size, so it has to be something I say. And I don’t exactly do intimidation, do I? So, listen, imagine this. This time, I make for a place with an audience in earshot, the bigger the better, and I lean in and agree very quietly, ‘that’s right’ and he’s sooo not expecting that level of submission off me after all this time, that he stops for a second and I ask him to listen to me, very carefully, and in a quiet voice, so that he leans in for that too. Then I stand up and in a very loud and exasperated voice, I shout ‘Penis extension!! Penis extension?? Well! We all know you need one, but I’m damned if I’m going to pay for it!’ Then I flounce off!

‘Imagine the shock and awe! The embarrassment will stun him long enough for me to get away. And I’d need to, believe me, move pretty sharpish that is. Change in behaviour, no more victim!

‘There, see, that’s better. You’ve got to laugh your way through, or we’d all go crazy. Next time you hear his voice in your head, just practise your version of that. It really helps.’

I do actually think about it a lot. I should probably come up with some other stuff, for other occasions, but I’m kind of stuck on that one, rather proud of it actually and you know I’m hoping I’d only have to do that once for him to stay away forever.

‘Seriously though Lisa, please take heart, they are trying to source new tablets and patches. Look, take my advice and do what I did. I lost my prescription and they gave me another. Bingo! Get it? Take advantage of your hormonal ‘forgetfulness’, you know, order early, lose the prescription, get another, cash them in in two places at the same time. Then you’ve always got spare for when they fuck up our supply lines next time! You’ve got to start putting yourself first. Look after number one, we never do.’

As it turns out the last laugh was on me, Mrs Smug, because thinking I had amassed a year’s supply, when I opened the boxes of three-month supplies, they only had one month in there. That’s why I’m not that far behind Lisa. Don’t know if that was the chemist or the NHS or the government at fault there, and they were all in Portuguese or Polish, so I suppose someone could be excused for not counting them properly. Though really? Anyway, it bought me some time to cope when the shortages started kicking in.

But why spoil the story? Story is everything after all, or was that content? I forget. Who cares, Lisa’s looking so appreciative of the attention. I feel a little bit of personal power resurging in my breast, a warm glow coming over me and I’m feeling much calmer. My old confidence is coming back, maybe. In the old days, I’d have been running all this and a darn sight better! But you know, I’m here, we’re all here, the least I can do is be encouraging.

‘Hey, we’re all here aren’t we, everyone supports you and lovely Kylie? Whatever happens with Brexit, ex-husbands, mothers and all that, it shows you’re doing a marvellous job getting all these women here supporting each other. You’re a born leader and together we will emerge victorious!

‘In fact,’ I’m riffing now all therapeutic-like in the sudden swell of warm sisterliness I haven’t been allowed to feel for years, ‘I’ve been so inspired by your book that I thought maybe I could interview you for a book I’ve been thinking about, not as good as yours obviously, you know just interviews compiled from successful Welsh women entrepreneuses like yourself…’

Ok I’m aware I’ve gone way too far now, she’s not seriously going to buy that is she?

Oh, she’s lapping it up! And what harm? It can only help my cause here, and I actually feel like I can cope. I do tend to let things build up in my head and overwhelm me. But I should remember I have valuable experience to offer and will get back in my stride! Maybe, we could… facetime that story…?

‘Well, I suppose I could help you with your little book.’

What the…? “Little…?” Honestly! Just because you’ve been to Necker Island doesn’t make…

And with a gloriously triumphant smile and renewed vigour Lisa is up on her toes, announcing, “Ladies, we have twenty minutes left for our mix and mingle before we sit for our speed presentations, so make the most of it. Women make 87% of the buying choices in any household. Let’s work together to make sure we help each other succeed in making the right choices!”

Ok, let it go and make the most of it. I am the bigger person, proof!

So who’s this? Oh god, she’s dressed like she’s ready to take the dogs for a walk. Oh, she is. Donna the Dogmother. Dog Behaviourist and Communicator. Communicator…?

Next Chapter…

To start from the beginning…

Copyright Alexis Behrend June 2021.