Page 12 of Marley
“Yeah, Jim told me. I put out a statement saying that what Georgia and I are going through is a private matter and in no way are events that happened in France her fault.” He looked up at me and shrugged his shoulders. “Hopefully, that’ll be enough to make the pyscho fuckers leave her alone.” I nodded my head, but I doubted his statement would help. Our fans seemed to be out for George.
“She should be here, Marls. She should be by my side, by our sides. These are the biggest events of our lives and she should be a part of it. I miss her so fucking much.” He finally broke down and cried as he spoke, wiping his nose and his tears on the back of his hand.
“I don’t know what to do. I’m so fucking lost without her. How the fuck could I be so stupid? The one person, possibly the only person G hates in the world, and I do something like that.”
“She’ll come around, Maca. You know what she’s like when she’s pissed off. Just give her a chance to calm down.” I tried to reassure him, but he shook his head at me.
“Thing is, Marls, is she’s not pissed off or angry, she’s broken. I fucking broke her ... I broke us. She trusted me and I fucked it all up.”
“She’s hurt and she’s angry, but she loves you, we all know that. Perhaps give her a bit of space to get her head around it all. Stop calling, and just write the letters. Let her read them and take them in at her own pace. She’ll get there, it’s just gonna take her a while.”
“I’ve got no fucking choice, really, do I? She’s there and I’m here, about to head off around the country. I’m gonna ask her to come and see us play in Liverpool on my birthday. It’s still a few weeks away and I’m hoping that she’ll hear me out by then. Even if she can’t forgive me, I still need to know that I can have her in my life?that she’ll at least talk to me.” His eyes were once again full of tears. “Coz this...” He gestures around the empty room, “This big fat nothing?this blank where she should be?is killing me, bit by bit, day by day. I’m fucking dying.”
I felt like the biggest cunt on earth. My mouth watered a little bit from the sick feeling I had inside.
“I love you man, and I’ll do everything I can to help put this right.” I stepped towards him and wrapped my arms around him. It wasn’t awkward, we’d done it before. We were artists; expressing our feelings came easy to us.
“I think you’re gonna need to, mate. I think it’s gonna take more than just me to convince your sister just how sorry I am.”
CHAPTER FIVE
2014
That conversation happened with Maca almost thirty years ago, but I remember every word, and I’ll never forget the defeated look on his face.
The sun’s up. I really shouldn’t be drinking whiskey at this hour, but I can’t be bothered to get up and go make coffee, and I doubt that Ash’ll be up anytime soon.
I pour more of the amber coloured liquid into my glass, taking it and my laptop, over to the sofa. I sit with my legs stretched out in front of me, the computer on top of a cushion and sip on my drink as I start to read more of what I’ve written. When the early morning sun hits the crystal tumbler my drink is in, it occurs to me that the colour of the single malt appears pretty close to the colour of Sean’s eyes. I get that usual stab of pain to my chest, which happens whenever I think of him. I stare at the computer screen in contemplative silence, wondering what sort of level my sisters pain is at these days. Does she feel that swift, sharp pierce with each memory of him, or has Cam done such a good job of putting her back together that it’s more of a dull ache these days?
As happy as she is with her life right now, I knew that she still has the odd moment where she struggles. We were at a function for one of the charities our foundation supports a few weeks ago when a woman asked her how many children she has ...
“Six,” George replied. “Four growing up rapidly, and two angels in heaven with their daddy.” I couldn’t meet her eyes for a few seconds. After I swallowed down the lump in my throat, I looked up to find her staring at her plate while everyone else at the luncheon conversed around her, no one sure of the correct response to her reply. I reached out and took her hand.
“I don’t know how you do it,” I tell her.
She gives me a half smile and her blue eyes shine with tears as they meet mine.
“I have a family that gave me no choice. I have a husband that holds my hand every step of the fucking way, four beautiful children that make me fight for every breath that I take, and I have Sean, Baby M, and Beau to make proud. I’m just doing my best.”
“And he would. He’d be so fucking proud of you, G.” She wipes a tear from under each of her eyes.
“You have no idea how often I question that Marls,” she whispers.
“Well, you shouldn’t, not ever.”
“Shit.” She says quietly, leaning down and pretending to look for something in her bag while blowing her nose.
“Subject change Marls... Please.”
She sits back up and smiles at the blonde sitting across from her, “So, Gwen, how’s the fashion line going? I bought a beautiful bag of yours the other day.”
I think that George has learnt better than any of us could on how to hide the pain that memories of Sean and her babies must inflict.
The door of my office slowly opens and my wife blinks her way through it. Her blonde hair is a bed-headed mess and she looks sexy as fuck. She squints through her blue/brown eyes at me and licks her lips.
“Marls? What are you doing? It’s not even six yet ... have you been down here all night?”
Her voice is croaky from sleep and my dick likes it. Fuck, I love her. I had no idea about being in love or relationships when I met her, and my feelings scared the crap out of me, but we’ll get to that later.
