The Story of Me (11 page)

Skye comes out of the adjoining bathroom with a towel wrapped around her. She’s carrying a tray and puts it on the bedside table; it has three lines of coke on it.

“You okay with this, George?” Roman asks. I’m in a strange woman’s bedroom, almost naked, and I have God knows what drugs floating around my system. I’m probably about to embark on my first-ever threesome, and he’s asking me if I’m okay with a line of Charlie? I smile at the pair of them.

“I,” I say to anyone who wants to listen, “I am just fine and dandy. Bring it on; whatever you’ve got, bring it.” Roman looks at me with a frown and brings the tray over to the bed. We take turns vacuuming up the white powder, and my heart rate instantly accelerates. Something inside my head is screaming at me to stop; this is wrong, it’s too much, too much drink, too many drugs, too much sex and it’s all too soon, but I carry on regardless. I want to be brave and I want to be fearless. I’m sick of being scared of life and whatever shit it has left to throw at me; nothing can hurt me more than losing Sean and Beau. So bring it on. Let’s do this shit; let’s drink and snort and fuck… I wipe my nose and pull Roman towards me. I need sex, really badly.

He lifts me up the bed so my head is resting on the pile of pillows and cushions, then he pulls off my knickers and lays beside me. Skye pulls off the towel she has wrapped around her and climbs onto the bed naked. I’m aware of how feminine she smells, soft and flowery. I’m aware of every movement she makes as she eases closer to me on the bed, although I can’t actually focus well enough to see her; all I see is colour. Skye is a sparkling mass of pinks and lilacs and Roman is blues and silvers; the colours merge and then separate, merge and separate, and anticipation and arousal build in my belly as they get closer. I can feel Roman’s erect cock digging into the top of my hip. There are hands and lips on me, but I don’t know whose; fingers slide inside me and it feels good. Then there’s a tongue on my clit and I reach down, and I know it’s Skye’s head between my legs but Roman’s fingers inside me. I arch my back, and she licks and sucks me with more force as he adds another finger. My heart rate suddenly accelerates and feels like it’s pounding in my ears. My vision slowly comes into focus and I watch as Roman brings his head down to take my nipple into his mouth; he strokes himself as he watches what Skye is doing with her tongue on my clit.

He pulls his fingers from my body and slides off the bed, sitting back on his heels beside me, watching, and I don’t like it. I hate it. All that’s running through my brain is that Cam wouldn’t like this; he wouldn’t like me doing this, and he wouldn’t like that Roman was watching.

I don’t quite know what happens next; it’s like a wave of panic rushes over me. I don’t like this; I don’t like what’s happening. I want it to stop.

“No!” I hear myself call out. I try to close my legs, but Skye holds them open. “No, Rome, tell her no.” I scramble up the bed, and Skye sits up and looks at me. Her face is wet and I suddenly feel disgusted with myself.

Roman’s at my side. “Calm down, George. It’s okay. What’s wrong?’ I don’t know exactly what’s wrong, but I don’t want to be here anymore; I want to leave.

“I want to go home.” He nods.

“Great, just fuckin’ great.” I hear Skye say. She climbs off the bed and stomps into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. I watch Roman as he gets dressed then helps me on with my clothes. I’m still unsteady on my feet as he helps me stand; the colours have stopped bouncing off every surface now but I still feel like I’m completely out of myself. “You okay? Can ya walk back to the truck?”

I nod my head. “Yeah, I’m sorry, I… I just want to go home.”

“Stop saying sorry, George. Tonight was all about you, whatever you wanted, whatever you wanted to do. You’ve had enough, and that’s fine; now it’s time to go.” He kisses me. “You ever done anything like that before?” I shake my head, feeling embarrassed now;
what the fuck was I thinking?
“Well, it was fucking hot, let me tell ya. Watching her do that to you was fucking hot, so thanks, thanks for that. I’ll never forget it. Next time I’m away and haven’t seen a decent-looking woman for months, I’m gonna play that on a loop in my head to help get me by.” He kisses my cheek. “You sure you’re okay walking?”

I nod, but I’m not actually sure. I grip his hand tightly and let him lead me back the way we came. We collect our stuff from around the fire and head back to the truck. I feel dizzy and lightheaded, tired but wide-awake, and my mind is suddenly very clear. I want my bed. I want to be left alone in my bed with my thoughts. I have no idea why, but Cam keeps popping into my head and it’s pissing me off.

Roman starts the truck, and it occurs to me that he’s done quite a lot of drugs tonight.

“You okay to drive?” I ask him.

He nods. “I probably shouldn’t drive, but I’m okay. If I’m not, I’ll pull over and we’ll sleep in here. I didn’t have any of that joint, remember; the trippy stuff you had? Just the coke.” He pulls out of his parking spot and onto the road, and I have to laugh at his statement.

“Just the coke. Well, that’s fine then; you’re full of coke but you’re just fine to drive.” I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I don’t know where the words are coming from; he’s done nothing but look after me and now I’m being a complete bitch. He swings the truck into a layby.

“Shall I stop? D’ya wanna stay here? Whatever you want, George.”

“I want to go home. I want my bed.”

“Well, the only way that’s gonna happen is if I drive us there. This ain’t London, George; the cab drivers are all in bed at this time, even on a Saturday night.” He leans in, takes my chin between his thumb and index finger and lifts it so my eyes meet his. “I shouldn’t have let you have that coke; I’m sorry.” I feel like the bitch I am; I’m behaving like an arsehole and he’s the one apologising.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m being a bitch; I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He licks his lips and shakes his head. “The coke, that’s what’s wrong with you.”

“I’ve done coke before, Rome; I’ve been doing coke since I was twenty. You do remember who I was married to?” My heart hurts as I say
those
words…

Was
married to.

Sean,
I was
married to Sean.

I still
am
married to Sean.

Except Sean’s dead and I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing with my life right now. I appreciate what Roman is trying to do, and he has helped me, massively. He’s proved that I can feel again, pleasure, at least.

“Well, George, am I driving or are we sleeping in the truck?”

“Just drive,” I reply. He kisses my mouth, pulls back out onto the road and we drive home in silence.

* * *

I decline Roman’s offer to come in. I apologise for my behaviour and explain I just want to be on my own. I’m not actually sure I do; I don’t know what I want, and I’m not sure of anything. My body is exhausted, but my heart is racing because of the coke.

I take a shower, pull on a pair of sleep shorts and a vest and take a couple of Valium to try and calm my heart rate. I know I shouldn’t drink with them, but they’re only a low dose, so I should be fine. I pour myself a glass of wine, and then go and sit out on the balcony. It’s almost four in the morning, but I know I won’t sleep if I go to bed, and I’m hoping the wine will relax me and undo the effects of the coke. I light a cigarette and make a conscious decision, there and then, that I won’t touch that shit again. I don’t like the person I become when I’m taking it. My face burns with embarrassment as I think about what I did earlier, what I let her do to me, someone I don’t even know. I’m pissed off with myself and Roman; he shouldn’t have let that happen, but then again, neither should I.

I stretch my legs out and rest my feet on the chair in front of me, but I’m twitchy; my heart and brain still racing. I go inside and find my phone; I have a number of text messages from Jim and Ash, apologising for their antics Friday night. I smile to myself as I read them and pour myself another wine while scrolling through all my messages until I find the one I want. I put my phone down on the table, drink my wine and light another cigarette. Other than the weed I’ve smoked lately, I’ve barely smoked the last couple of years. I’ve either been pregnant or trying for a baby, but since I’ve been in Australia, I haven’t stopped. It’s living on my own that does it. I’m not allowed to smoke at my mum’s; she just won’t have it. We all sneak out to the studio when we’re together, but if it’s just me, I don’t bother.

Just me.             

On my own.

By myself.

That’s my life.

Alone.

I go back to the kitchen and bring the wine bottle back to the balcony. I pour another glass, emptying it, hoping the contents will help me forget the fucked-up circumstances of my life, just for a few hours.

I sit myself down in the chair. Drugs, smoking, drinking; the first two I need to stop completely. The last one I need to cut back on, and I will. Once I’m back in England, I will, but in the meantime, I light another as I sip my wine. I feel more relaxed now; in fact, I feel quite pissed. I’ve drunk almost a whole bottle of wine in less than an hour…

“Bad Georgia; bad, bad, Georgia,” I say aloud, then giggle to myself. The Valium’s obviously kicking in as I’m starting to feel fuzzy. I pick up my phone and look again at the message I received on my birthday; our conversation had been cut short by Sean’s flowers arriving, and I hadn’t gotten back to him since. I put out my cigarette and text one word…

Tiger

I check the time; it’ll be almost six on a Saturday evening in England. He’s probably busy, or he might be at football; I know he likes to go and watch West Ham play when he can. He could be with a woman; my stomach rolls and my heart feels like it’s being squeezed at that thought. I light another cigarette to try to calm myself. My phone vibrates on the table, and I give out a little girly shriek as I jump, then giggle to myself. I smoke the rest of my cigarette before picking up my phone and opening the message.

Fuck, Kitten.

How are you, baby?

I burst into tears, finish my drink, and then go and climb into bed.

I’m a mess

I stagger into the bathroom, get the toilet roll and bring it back to bed with me. My phone buzzes.

Where the fuck are you?

Are you safe?

Do you need me?

Do I need him?
Fuck, I don’t know what I need. I’ve just had one of the most fucked-up nights of my entire life and believe me, living the life I have, I’ve had some pretty fucked-up nights. I’ve gone out with one man, had my Mildred licked by a woman and now I’m home, texting a different man. A man I fucked while still married to my now-dead husband.
What is wrong with me?
I don’t want to be a bad person. I want to make good decisions; I don’t want to hurt or use anyone, but it’s all I ever seem to do. I wipe my running nose on the back of my arm as my phone rings. It’s Cam’s number, and I don’t know what to do. If I don’t answer, he will worry and probably get on to Bailey, and that will cause a whole other shit storm.

“Tiger.”

“Kitten?” My heart rate instantly quickens at the sound of his voice. I need to take a couple of those Valium I have in the drawer; they’ll calm me down.

“How the fuck are you, Tiger?”

“Don’t swear, Kitten; it’s not nice.”

“I’m not nice; haven’t you realised that yet?” He’s quiet for a few seconds.

“Are you okay?”

“No, I’m far from okay. I’m a fuckin’ mess.”

“Where are you? I want to see you.”

“You can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because you can’t; I’m too far away.”

“Where are you, Kitten? You’re scaring me.” I want to tell him, but it would do no good, and I’m a mess. I can’t think and I suddenly don’t want to talk anymore; I just want to go to sleep. I wish he was here, with his big body and his big laugh.

“I’m lost. I’m on my own. I’m where nobody can find me. I’m invisible and I miss you. I wish you were here; you would’ve stopped me. I think I told him that I love you. He laughed and it was you, your laugh, and I told him that I love you.” I can hear him saying my name, asking where I am, who I’m with, but I don’t want to talk anymore. I end the call, turn off my phone, take two Valium out of my bedside drawer to help me sleep and swallow them down with water from the bottle I left there a couple of nights ago. I stare at the little brown bottle of pills and think about taking the whole lot, and the thought stays in my head for a very split-second; just a split-second, but I don’t do it. My family needs me, and I can’t cause them any more pain. I throw the pills and the water on the floor and wait for sleep to take me; the last thought that goes through my mind is how much I hate myself and my life.

I
jump, then attempt to drag my eyes open as I try to work out what’s going on around me. I can hear voices and I feel myself being lifted; my face is slapped, not hard but enough for me to feel it. I can hear Jackson calling my name, and I’m aware I’m being carried, but I just can’t open my eyes properly or string a sentence together. I stop trying to fight it, curl into Jackson’s chest and go back to sleep.

* * *

I know I’m in a hospital before I even open my eyes; I would know that smell anywhere. I hate it; that smell means only one thing to me: death.

My throat feels scratchy and my stomach and ribs ache. I lay still for a while longer, trying to process why I might possibly be in the hospital. The last thing I remember clearly is Roman dropping me off; he didn’t come in, and I showered.

Shit!

I spoke to Cam last night, I think.

I open my eyes and look around. It’s a standard hospital room; stark, white, and sterile. It smells of death, death and loss, and I really need to get out of here. I catch movement from the corner of my eye and realise Jackson is asleep in a chair next to my bed; he’s sitting exactly like Sean was when I woke up after we lost baby M, and exactly like Marley was when I lost Sean and Beau. I burst into tears. Jackson instantly lifts his head, and his eyes meet mine.

“What the fuck did you do?” he asks through gritted teeth. I frown as I try and remember, but I can’t.
What the fuck did I do?

“I don’t know. I can’t remember. Did I hurt someone?” He stands abruptly, pushing his chair back noisily on the tiled floor.

“The pills, George! Why, why would you do that?” I have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about.

“I don’t know what you mean, Jax. Please tell me, coz I can’t remember.” I’m wearing a horrible hospital night gown, and I use it to wipe my tears and my nose on. My tears and my nose; I remember wiping them last night. I was in bed crying; why the fuck am I crying? Well, der, probably coz my life is a fucking fucked-up mess. I’m suddenly pissed off with Jackson, and I just want a straight answer.

“Will you please just tell me why I’m in the hospital, Jax, and why I feel like I’ve done ten rounds with Tyson?”

He turns on me so abruptly that I push myself further down into the bed.

“You took an overdose, George. You OD’d on Valium. What the fuck were you thinking; how could you do that to us?”
What the fuck is he talking about?
My mind races; I did not take an overdose last night.  I can’t remember exactly what I did do, but I just know I didn’t do that; not once I got back to my apartment anyway.

“I didn’t take an overdose. I smoked some weed and did a line of coke at the hippy house with Roman, but I didn’t OD; he brought me home and I was just fine.” I start to cough as my throat feels sore and I can hardly swallow. I sit up slowly and reach for the water at the side of my bed. Jackson just stands with his hands on his hips at the end of my bed and glares at me.

“Roman let you do coke and weed at the hippy house?”

“I’m thirty-fuckin-two, Jax; Rome didn’t
let
me do anything. I chose to. I was fine; he dropped me home, and I was fine.”
Why would anyone think I’d taken an overdose?

“What about the Valium all over the floor? I couldn’t wake you up. I had to shove my fingers down your throat to make you vomit, then you choked and I had to do the Heimlich manoeuvre. You were a mess, George. A fuckin’ mess.”

I hold my head in my hands. I didn’t take an overdose. I know I didn’t take an overdose. I try to remember what happened once I showered.

“What happened when Roman dropped you home? Oh, and just so we’re clear, George, I’m gonna knock him the fuck out when I catch up with him.”

“What, why?”

“He took you to fuckin’ Narnia.” Well, the orgasms have been good, but I wouldn’t stretch it that far.

“Jax, I swear to God, I have never, ever climbed through a wardrobe with Roman. I’ve had some great sex, but I have never climbed through a wardrobe with him.” I think I’m funny, but Jackson clearly doesn’t.

“The hippy house George, where all his weirdo mates live. We all call it Narnia. He shouldn’t have taken you there but aside from that, what happened when you got home? Talk me through it.”

“Can I get a coffee first?” He stares at me for a few seconds and his bottom lip trembles; mine instantly has the same reaction. “I swear, Jax, I wasn’t trying to kill myself.” He moves across the room to my bed and wraps his arms around me.

“You fuckin’ scared me, George. I thought I’d failed. I thought I’d let you down.” We both cry. I want my mum right now. I want my mum and my dad and my big brothers. I want my best friends and my nieces and nephews. I want to go home.

“I think the nurse is gonna wanna check you over. I’ll send her in, then go and get ya a coffee.” He kisses the top of my head then leaves the room. 

The nurse is in almost instantly; she’s an older woman, in her forties maybe, with the most beautiful auburn hair. ‘Eve’ it says on her name badge.

“Okay, Georgia, good to see you’re back with us. You gave your brother a fright earlier and the emergency room doctors, too. You’re lucky he found you when he did.”

“I didn’t take an overdose,” I interrupt her. I need to make it clear that I didn’t take an overdose.

Eve doesn’t say anymore as she takes my blood pressure, temperature, monitors my saturation levels and writes notes down on a chart. She suddenly stops writing, tilts her head and says to me, “Do I know you; have we met before?” I shake my head. This is all I need, this story getting out… ‘Rock star’s widow in suicide attempt’. Lennon had managed to keep the other incidents and the time I was committed out of the press, but he might not be able to do that for me here. Then another thought strikes me: has Jackson called my family? Do they all think I’ve been alone here and tried to kill myself?

“Well, you look familiar, darl.” She chews on the inside of her bottom lip as she looks at me then continues. “Your blood pressure’s a little low, but that’s not surprising with what you’ve taken. The doctors will be here in a minute to talk to you anyway.” Jackson comes back through the door with two coffees in
takeaway cups. “Here’s that handsome hero of a brother of yours.”

“He’s not…” Jax shoots me a look and shakes his head, “handsome,” I continue and she laughs.

“Well, you’re his sister so you would say that, but believe me, if I was ten years younger...” She winks at me, then turns and leaves the room as she shakes her head.

“Did you call my mum and dad, my brothers?” I ask him. He puts the coffees down.

“No, I didn’t call anyone. I told them I’m your brother, your next of kin, so they wouldn’t try and get in touch with anyone else.”

He takes the lids off our cups and stirs in sugar, then passes me mine; he takes his to the chair he was sitting in earlier and sits back down.

“Talk me through it, George. I wanna hear about what happened last night; everything you can remember.”
He looks thoroughly pissed off with me
, I conclude as I study him for a few moments; I take a sip of my coffee, which is hot and dire.

I must pull a face as he says, “It’s wet and it’s warm. Stop being a princess and just fucking drink it, George.”

“It tastes like crap,” I complain.

“I don’t care, George; that’s all that’s available. Have a drop then talk.”

I huff like a child then start my story. “I went out for dinner with Roman, then he took me to meet the Manson family. I smoked the weirdest weed I’ve ever had. It was really trippy. Then we did a line of coke. I had a bit of a freak out after that.”

Oh, God. My cheeks burn as the memories of what I let Skye do to me come flooding back. What the fuck had I been thinking?

“Why’d you freak out?” I stare at him for a few seconds. I knew I could tell him anything; it was me who would be embarrassed, not him.

“I was proper off my tits,” I try to reason with him, but he shakes his head at me.

“Why. Did. You. Freak. Out?” I screw my nose up and just blurt it out.

“I got it on with a girl and then I decided I didn’t like it, and I just needed her to stop.”

He frowns, closes his eyes for a few seconds and shakes his head. “Where the fuck was Roman when all this was happening?”

“Watching.”

He nods. “I’m gonna fucking kill him. I swear, Georgia, I will kill him when I see him.” I feel defensive of Roman. He didn’t make me do anything last night; everything I did was of my own free will.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jax; Rome didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to. She asked if she could kiss me and I let her, and we went back to her room…”

He looks up from his coffee. “She lives at the Narnia house? What’s her name?”

“Yeah,” I reply. “Her name’s Skye, and she looked like Tinker Bell.”

“Skye Turner. He watched, while Skye fucking Turner did her thing and came after you?”

I was confused. “No one came after me. The weed we had fucked with my head. It made me horny and just, I was just…” I try to think of a way to describe how I felt.

I had only ever tried LSD once, years ago when I was still at school. Marley had got it from somewhere; it was a little square piece of paper with the Superman logo on it. Sean, Marley, Jim and myself had all bunked off school and hid out in our summerhouse; it was a rainy winter’s day, and we knew my mum wouldn’t come out into the garden for anything. We had got our mark in the register after lunch and then all met up outside the school gates. We walked home to my house, snuck in the side gate and hid out in the summerhouse. We’d divided the little square into four, put the tiny pieces on our tongues and just let it dissolve. It took about an hour for the effects to start, and they were pretty similar to what I’d had last night; everything was bright, colourful and beautiful, and I just felt calm and peaceful…

“The weed I had was like a combination of taking acid and ecstasy, and I was fine with that; I felt great. Roman didn’t have any because he wanted to be straight for me; he wanted to be able to look after me.”

“That’s fucking good of him,” Jax gets in sarcastically, and I let out a long sigh.

“I should have just stuck with the weed. I was fine. I was better than fine; I felt the best I have in a long time.” I recall the feeling of total relaxation I’d had last night; free, uninhibited, that’s how I had felt. “Skye asked if she could kiss me, things got a little heavier, and we went back to her room while she went and showered. While me and Roman started getting it on, she got out the shower. We all did a line of coke and then she joined us on the bed. We were just kissing and fucking about, and then suddenly, it was just like bang; my heart rate increased and I just started to panic. I didn’t want her to touch me anymore. I just wanted to get out, get home, and be by myself.” Thinking about how the panic had come up from nowhere now was making me feel clammy, and I felt a little lightheaded. I finish the rest of my coffee and look over at Jax; his arms are folded across his chest, his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles.

“He got me out of there, Jax, as soon as I started to freak. He told Skye to fuck off, and he got me out of there.” He pulls his brows into a deep frown.

“He shouldn’t have taken you there in the first fucking place, George; it’s full of weirdos. They do a lot of drugs. They grow a lot of their own stuff, and they have orgies up there. They invite people up there, get them off their heads and then get them to join in.”  He runs both his hands through his hair. “I’m all for a bit of free loving, George; threesomes are great as long as everyone is sane and consenting. It’s not all right to let someone get off their trolley and then watch them do things they would never normally do.” I wasn’t going to waste my time explaining I was all good up until that point; I would just have to warn Roman that Jax was on the warpath.

“Anyway, Roman took me home, but I didn’t let him come in.” I think for a few seconds about the order in which I did things when I got home; I give a big yawn, suddenly feeling sleepy. “When I got in, I had a shower, but my heart was racing from the coke so I took a couple of Valium. They’re only a low dose, so I had a glass of wine as well.” Jackson’s shaking his head at me.

“Are you fucking serious? You took two Valium and then had a glass of wine?” I nod and screw up my eyes.

“I think I drunk the whole bottle.”

“Great, it gets better! Are you fucking stupid, George?” I don’t honestly know.

“I don’t know, Jax, I don’t know what I was thinking. I checked my messages on my phone, and for some reason, don’t ask me why, but I texted Cam.” As I speak, it all starts to come back to me.

“Cam, as in Cameron, the bloke you—”

“Yes,” I interrupt him.

“Why?” he asks.

“I don’t know… Something happened. During the night, something happened and it reminded me of him. I was… I felt lonely, and I don’t know, I just always felt safe with him. I just texted him and then he called me, but I can’t remember what was said.” I rack my brain, and I remember I was tired and just wanted to sleep; I just wanted to shut my brain up for a while.