The Story of Me (14 page)

“Yes, please, Tiger.”

“Don’t tease me, Kitten. I’m warning you. Do. Not. Tease. Me.”

“I’m not teasing. I’m wet and I’m aching.” I don’t know where I’m going with this, but I’m so turned on I keep pushing.

“I wish I was closer. I want to be able smell how wet. I want to be able to taste your ache.”
Oh, God.

“Should I book my flight and jump on the next plane?”

“Plane? Where the fuck are you?” Oh, shit, I thought Bailey would have told him.

“I’m in Australia. I’m… I’ve been here for a couple of months. I needed to get away, you know. All the stories in the papers and now with the anniversary of the accident coming up, I needed to get away. My cousin Jackson called and invited me to come and stay. My aunt and uncle own a bar, so I’ve just been helping out here, lying low and…” I try to think of a word. “And fixing myself.”

“Kitten,” he pauses for a few seconds, “where in Australia are you?” His tone has completely changed; he sounds almost angry.

“Byron Bay,” I reply, and I swear I hear him let out a groan as I answer.

“I need to go. I’ll call you tomorrow. Sorry, but I need to go.”

And just like that, he hangs up.

Well, that went well.
What did I say?

I text Roman back that I’m okay and curl up and go to sleep.

I wake bright and early Monday morning and call my mum, and I chat with her for about an hour about nothing in particular. I don’t mention I’m going to book my flight home; I’m going to surprise her and my dad and just turn up. I then call Jimmie and let her know I’ve decided I’m ready to come home.

“Are you sure, George?”

“Yeah, it’s time, Jim; I’m homesick and missing you all. I’ll probably leave sometime next week.”

“Not before the weekend then?”

“No, not before the weekend; I’m not ready to be facing that. I just… I want to be as far away from all of that madness as possible.”

“I understand. How d’ya plan on spending the day?”

“To be honest, I don’t know. The club Jodie’s been working on has its opening night Saturday and we’ve all been invited down to Sydney for that, but it just seems wrong.”

“Why’s it wrong, George?”

“You don’t think going out clubbing on the one-year anniversary of my husband and child’s death is wrong?” She’s quiet for a few seconds.

“I think you need to do whatever it takes to get you through the day. I think you staying in bed all day and crying is the wrong thing to do, George. You’ve spent almost a year locked away, hiding from life. I think this could be the perfect time for you to get back out in the land of the living, and I couldn’t think of anywhere better for you to do it.”

“What d’ya mean?”

“Well, who’s gonna be expecting you to turn up at a club in Sydney? All eyes are gonna be focused on England: they’ll be looking for you at your mum’s, at the cemetery, where the accident happened. I don’t know. But Australia will be the last place they’ll expect ya to make an appearance, mate.”

“What was that?”

“What?”

“That terrible accent you just put on, was that your attempt at sounding Aussie?”

“Good, weren’t it?”

“If you were trying to sound South African, it was fanfuckingtastic.”

“That’s harsh.”

“That’s honest.”

“So how does Roman sound then; what’s he say when you’re banging his brains out… Fair dinkum Sheila, that feels bonza?”

“Something like that, yeah.”

“Are you still seeing him?”
Hmmm, am I?

“I think Roman and I have run our course. He’s a really nice bloke. He’s helped me to no end and the sex has been good, but we both knew it was just a temporary thing or fling, or whatever.”

“But now it’s over?”

“Yeah, I think it is. I hope we can always be friends and I’ll always be grateful for the way he’s helped me, but I’m coming back to England now so it’s the perfect time to end things.”

“You know what, George? I’m so proud of ya. You sound really good, really together.”

I hold in the laugh at this statement. “I’m getting there, Jim; slowly but surely, I’m getting there. Roman’s been a big part of that. And Jackson.” I let out a big sigh as I think about how far I’ve come in the last couple of months; Saturday night’s mishap aside, of course.

“Mmmmm, Jackson; yum. Is he still as hot?” I hear Lennon say something in the background, and Jimmie say, “Only joking, babe; you’re way hotter than your cousin.”

“Yeah, he’s a good-looking bloke, but he’s also like a brother to me so I don’t even think of him that way. Talking of brothers, does mine wanna say hello?”

“He’s desperate to. Let me know as soon as you make plans. I’ll speak to ya before the…” She pauses for a few seconds, unsure of what to call it. “I’ll talk to ya before the weekend, George. Love ya, babe.” She’s gone and I swallow down the emotions bubbling to the surface as I think of this weekend. One year, one long and lonely year.

“Little sister Georgia, how the fuck are ya?”

“I’m good, big brother Lennon. How’s everyone there? What are the boys doing this weekend?” By the boys, I mean the band, but Len knows that. The boys had struggled since Sean’s death; they wanted to go on in his honour, but at the same time, I think they felt guilty, which was something I totally understood. When I left England, they were about to start auditions for a new guitarist and Marley was going to take over vocals. He had a great voice and would have no problem taking centre stage.

“Yeah, you know, they’re all struggling a little bit.” He sounds a bit evasive.

“What d’ya mean? What happened with the auditions? Did they find a new guitarist?”

He’s quiet for a few seconds. “No, to be honest with ya, George, I don’t think it’s gonna happen. Tommy and Bill have got their own agendas, and I don’t think they really include being part of the band… and Marley, I think Marls is wanting to do his own thing. He’s been writing a lot and I think perhaps he’s thinking of just going it alone.”

“You think or you know? He’s your brother, Len, and you’re his manager, so don’t tell me you don’t know what his plans are.”

“You need to speak to Marley.”

“But I’m speaking to you. What’s the big secret? If the boys wanna call it quits, then I totally understand; that’s their call, not mine. I won’t be pissed off with them. It’ll be sad but I won’t be pissed off.”

“I think that’s the way it’s looking, George. I think they wanna announce something over the weekend, but they’ve all been too scared to approach ya.”

“So why didn’t you? You’re their manager and my brother.” I hear him sigh, but I’m pissed off now; I’ve worked out why nothing’s been said and I’m a little hurt. “You all think I’ll fall apart, don’t you? You all think that if anything is said about the band splitting up, I’ll end up back in the nut house?”

“George…”

“No, Len, I’m disappointed. I was okay; I was doing okay until those bitches started touting their lies around the papers. I’m doing okay now. This weekend’s gonna be hard, of course it is, but I’m doing as well as anyone can expect. You only had to ask me, Len.”

“I’m sorry, George. It’s just... well before, ya know, when you split up, you wouldn’t talk about him or the band. This time, I just thought it would be the same… Or even harder for ya.” I pause to think about that for a few seconds. When Sean and I split up, I couldn’t listen to his songs. I couldn’t hear his name mentioned. I was terrified of accidentally coming across any mention, any link to him, constantly. But now? Now he’s dead; I listen to his music all the time. I have his music as my ring tone. I have pictures everywhere. I even have a picture of Sean, myself and Beau, in those last few moments before Sean died. No tubes, no machine, just us and our little boy, curled up together on a bed, all looking like we were sleeping, and I love that picture. Some may find it weird or warped, but I look at that photo as soon as I wake up in the morning and last thing before I go to bed at night. It brings me peace. It calms me. It helps me cope.

“It hurt differently then. The pain I felt then was different.”

“How? How was it different, George?”

“I was hurt and angry; I was humiliated. He was out there, living his life, and I wanted him back so badly.”

“But ain’t it worse, George? Ain’t the pain worse now?” Lennon’s voice is almost a whisper. My brother wants the answers to these questions, but he’s also terrified of them. He’s probably scared shitless of finding out just how broken I am. And I am. I am so very broken, probably beyond repair, but I’ll hold myself together enough. Coming here has fixed me enough to be able to hold it together for my family, to keep going for them, because what I’ve finally come to realise is that they, too, are broken. Jimmie and Ash tried to tell me how badly my family were coping at the very beginning, but I couldn’t see beyond my own grief back then. I just wanted the pain to be gone. I didn’t particularly want to die, but I just couldn’t bear to go on living. Now, now after a few months away and some time for reflection, I’ve realised my family need to get me through this. We are already, irrevocably, broken and shattered, but we have each other. We heal
each other and if I don’t make it, then I feel that my whole family will implode. Not just my parents and brothers but my sisters-in-law and my nieces and nephews; for them, for each and every one of them, I will live with this hole that life has punched through my chest. I will get through one day at a time, and I will do my best to live some semblance of a life.

“George?” Lennon’s voice makes me realise I’ve been quiet for far too long.

“It is worse. It’s so much worse, Len. But this time, I know he’s not coming back. This time, I know there is nothing I can say or do; they’re not coming back. My husband and my baby are gone, and all I have are the memories, the pictures, the videos, the music.” I make a monumental effort to speak around the huge lump in my throat; it’s so big, it’s actually painful, but I push on. “I’m luckier than most, Len. Mine and Sean’s entire relationship has been documented. Out there somewhere are photos and videos, songs, interviews; there’s so much I can draw from, things I’ve never seen before and want to. I want to see it all. I want to hear him and see him on my telly. I want to hear his songs on the radio, and I want every memory I can have of him.” I cuff my nose as my tears run. “It hurts, Len. It’s the most excruciating pain a human can endure, but I’ll take it. I’ll own it and I’ll wear it like a badge of honour. And I’ll get by because I have all of you. I’ll get by
because
of all of you and I’ll get by
for
all of you.” I know my brother’s crying; I’ve reduced two big brothers to a blubbering mess in the space of two days; who’d have thought. I pause and draw breath again. “I’m coming home, Len. Not till next week. I can’t be there this weekend, but I want to be back there with all of you. I miss you all and I’m ready.” There are a few seconds of silence.

“George, seriously, I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t know how to reply to what you’ve just said.”

“Then don’t say anything, Len, but don’t hide things from me, either. If the band is gonna split up, tell me. I won’t fall apart. I promise,”

“Well, that’s good to hear, George. Now you need to ring little brother Marley and convince him.” I don’t like that term. I’m not trying to convince anyone. I’m just stating a fact.

“Well then, I will just have to call and let him know the facts.”

We end the call with me promising to let him know as soon as my flights are booked, and in the end, Lennon can’t help but let his control-freakery take over: he decides it will be better for him to book my flights. I’m fine with that; one less thing for me to worry about.

I call Marley next, but I get no answer, so I leave a voice message and tell him I will call later. I try Ash but she’s not answering either. I sit on my bed with my legs crossed and stare down at my phone. I know whose number I want to call. I know whose voice I want to hear, but I’m not entirely sure why. I’ve had this ache inside me; ever since I spoke to Cam on Saturday night, it’s been there, and I’m struggling with it. I’ve just poured my heart out to my brother. I’ve just admitted that I keep going for my family, and because of them, I want to keep going. However, sitting here on my own, staring down at Cam’s number on the screen of the phone in my hand, I can’t do it; I won’t admit a single thing to myself.

I make myself a coffee and bring it back to bed and then I call Jackson; I need a Jackson chat. He’s busy all day, so we arrange to meet down at the bar this evening. I give Marley’s number another try, but this time, his phone’s switched off and not even going to voice mail. I stare down at Cam’s number again for a few seconds. I want to call him, but I need to get my head around why before I speak to him. Brooke comes padding through my bedroom door and gets into bed next to me.

“You smell of sex,” I tell her. I’d just heard her latest casualty begging not to have to leave ten minutes ago. She gives out a long sigh.

“I actually smell of bad sex.”

“Oh, dear,” I reply.

“Yeah, it was shit house, if I’m totally honest, but no worries. He’s gone now, never to be seen again.” I smile as I look at her and shake my head slightly, instantly reminding myself of Cam.

“How was your weekend? How’s Jodie?”

“Yeah, it was okay. The club had a thing for all the staff, sort of like a practice night before the opening. Everyone had to work an hour each; it was cool. The place is amazing.”

“So was Jodie stressed, or did it all run smoothly?”

“Oh, come on. This is Jodie we’re talking about; Ms Control Freak herself. It all ran like clockwork, obviously. She’s just pissed off because the new boyfriend wasn’t there.” My ears prick up. Jodie is the opposite of her younger sister; she’s so focused on her career, she rarely goes out with men, and I don’t think I’ve ever actually known her to have a boyfriend.

“Jodie’s got a boyfriend? Well, that’s a first.”

“Well, he’s not her boyfriend per se. She works with him, and they’ve been out for dinner a couple of times. She likes him and wants more, but by the sound of it, he’s a bit noncommittal and didn’t turn up on Saturday night. But then she tells me, she hadn’t actually asked him if he was gonna be there, she just assumed he would.”

“Why didn’t she just ask him? Surely if they work together, he would’ve known about it?”

“Who knows? I’m not getting involved. She’ll be starting a new project after Christmas and won’t be interested in having a man in her life anyway.” She shrugs as she speaks. “So, you made up your mind yet? You coming down for the opening next weekend? Emily can’t make it, but Jax is coming. You, me, Jax and Jodes, we’ll have a blast.”