Page 41 of Marley
I watch as my sister struts the length of our deck. Hand on hip, she turns, looks over her shoulder, total duck face going, and then starts walking/swaying back to where the other two pair of idiots are still laughing.
Georgia actually walks the walk pretty well. She’s modelled a few times at various charity events over the years, so she has had some practise.
I stand and shake my head before giving in and asking what the fuck they’re doing?
“Paige.” They all say together.
I raise my eyebrows in expectation and hold my hands up, gesturing for them to elaborate.
“In the bar ... the man ...” Ash laughs as she attempts to explain.
Jimmie is now up and attempting ‘the walk,’ but she’s wearing the shoes that George has just taken off and they’re obviously too big. She only makes four strides before going down like a sack of shit and landing in a heap on my Tasmanian Oak decking.
I actually join in the laughter this time, regretting only that I’m not filming this so I can show Len and Cam when they arrive and play it back to the girls tomorrow.
I help Jim to her feet and sit her on a chair. “Why are you taking the piss out of Paige, I don’t understand?” I question, although really not expecting a coherent answer.
“Oh my god, Marls, we told you,” Ashley whines.
“Actually babe, you didn’t.”
Jimmie knocks back the last of the champagne from her glass and tries to top it up from the bottle, but it’s empty. They’ve drunk the lot.
“S’gone. Gonother, Marls?” Georgia asks.
“Not till you tell me why you’re taking the piss outta Paige.” They said ‘man and bar.’ Not that I’m green eyed or anything, but I want to know what that’s all about.
“The man in bar ... Bar, the bar,” Ashley starts. This could take a while.
She tilts her head and looks up at the sky before looking back at me and my stomach goes over. What the fuck happened today? I grow concerned for my wife because she’s suddenly looking like she’s about to cry.
I watch her throat move as she swallows before continuing with a shaky voice. I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or emotions that are causing this. She looks at George, Jim, and then me. Taking a deep breath, she starts talking.
“A bloke in the bar ... started chat-chatting with Paige. We thought he recognised her, but, but it was ... it was George, and then me.” She’s slurring but making sense, sorta. She blinks and looks down into her lap, and when she looks up, I watch as she brushes a tear from her cheek.
“Ash, baby?” I start to feel panicky but she shakes her head, hopefully to let me know that she’s okay. Taking a deep breath and speaking slowly, she continues.
“He spoke to Paige so that she—he, I mean. So that he could ask her if G was Georgia McCarthy. He—he was a massive Carnage fan, Marls.” Her voice rises and she sobs and then nods her head, silently composing herself before continuing. “He had all your albums on his playlist and told us all about the times he’d seen you live. He asked for mine and G’s autographs and we posed for pictures with him.” The tears run freely down her face as she speaks and cries now. “He bought us all a drink and then he just got a bit emotional and overwhelmed. He cried, Marls.” She sobs again while still trying to speak. I look across to Jim and George who are both just staring out at nothing as they listen to her.
“He cried so hard. This man, he knew exactly where he was when he got the news about Sean and he started to tell us, but he just broke down.” She wipes her nose on the back of her arm, coz my baby’s classy like that and I wouldn’t change her for the world.
“It was hard. It was hard to watch a complete stranger cry like that and it just brought it all back.” Her voice breaks into another sob before she takes a few deep breaths and continues. “So yeah, anyway. Paige’s face was a picture when she realised he had no clue who she was and he was only interested in her old aunties. It was funny. So, so funny.”
She forces a smile on her beautiful tear-stained face as she ends her story. I stand and nod my head for a few seconds, not wanting to make eye contact with my sister right now, but not sure what to say either.
“So you all decided to get drunk to celebrate?” I go for the ‘trying to be funny’ angle.
“Ferzactly,” says Jim, “but the shervice here is sit—too slow, so now we’re nearly sober again.”
“Oi. You can soon fuck off, back to your gaff if you don’t like the service at mine.” I tell her over my shoulder as I walk back to the kitchen to find them more champagne.
“Love you, Rock Star.” I hear Ash call out.
“Love you, Baby.”
“We love you Butt.” Jimmie and George shout out, and then proceed to cackle again.
Yeah, I’ll explain that inside joke later.
