Page 51 of Marley
“So, apart from all the different birds he shags, is he seeing anyone?”
“Well, there’s Carla.” Jimmie’s head swung around to face me, her eyes widened and her nostrils flaring.
Fuck, that girl misses nothing, and yet she had no idea about this, until I opened my big fat gob.
Lennon shook his head as subtly as he could.
“Carla? The sound engineer bird?” Jimmie questioned.
“Yeah. I don’t know exactly what he’s got going on with her. I mean, he never talks about her and he’s never brought her back to our place, but I know he’s seen her a few times. At least, I think he has.” I stuttered and stumbled over my words.
“Wow. I’d never have picked her as his type. I actually thought she was into girls.” Jim said.
“Perhaps her being so different to George is the appeal.” Len added.
“Did you know?” Jim narrowed her eyes on Len.
“I thought the same thing.” I tried to deflect Jim’s question.
“Lennon, did you know?” She wasn’t giving up.
“I had my suspicions,” he states matter of factly. “I noticed there was a bit of flirting going on when the boys were recording the last album and warned him to stay away until the business side of things was done.” He shrugged his shoulders. “What they got up to once the album was finished, I have no idea. It’s got fuck all to do with me anyway.”
“So how many times has he seen her?” She was like a dog with a fucking bone and she wasn’t letting go anytime soon.
“I don’t know, Jim. He doesn’t discuss her and I don’t ask. I think it’s just a convenience thing for him. Ya know, sometimes going home with a complete stranger every night gets a bit old. Sometimes, it might be nice to wake up to a familiar face in your bed.” I explained to her, giving away more about how I was feeling than what Maca might be feeling.
“How the fuck would you know?” Len asked. “When was the last time you shagged a bird more than once?”
I had to think about that one for a few seconds.
“San Diego, last year. When Maca had his little meltdown.”
“There were five other women involved, that hardly counts,” Jimmie argues.
“Five other women?” Bailey almost shrieked from the sofa next to Jim. “You had a sixsome with five birds?”
“Nooo.” Now it’s my turn to use the ‘don’t be ridiculous’ tone. “Me and Maca shared them, so technically it was sevensome if you count me and him.”
“Fuck me. I’ve gotta get out of this car dealership and night club running game and become a rock star.” Bailey said with a huff.
“Believe me, dude, it’s really not all it’s cracked up to be.”
Despite Georgia not being there, I enjoyed my Christmas night with my family. It felt like years since I’d spent time with both of my brothers, just chilling and chatting shit. It just reinforced my determination to set things right with George, no matter how difficult she made it for me to get through to her.
Nineteen eighty-seven rolled into nineteen eighty-eight. We toured with the new album for a large part of the year. As with every tour we’d been on, there were parties and there were women, but Maca rarely got involved. He got up on stage, gave the crowds the Maca they expected, but as soon as the show was done, he headed back to his room and when we were touring England, some nights he had Milo drive him all the way back home.
There were a couple of nights when he would show his face at an after-party for five minutes, but generally, because Billy and Tom never hung around, I was there alone.
And it was getting old.
I felt like something was missing from my life, but I had no idea what it was. I had the job of my dreams, more money than I could spend in twelve lifetimes, a family that loved me, and women at my beck and call, but something was off and I hated how empty I felt inside.
A large part of what we do for a living is showmanship. The Carnage that fans see on stage or in front of the cameras is not who me, Maca, Billy, and Tom are as individuals, or even when we’re together out of the public eye. I was constantly putting on the persona of Marley Layton; womanising, hard drinking, drug taking lead guitarist of Carnage, was wearing me out, and beginning to depress the fuck out of me.
I craved normalcy. I appreciated more than ever my family, and the fact my mum would still bollock me for leaving my cup on the side. That my dad still questioned how I spent my money, and that my brothers were there giving me shit because I was the youngest out of the three of us and that just meant they could.
We had been living in the spotlight for around four years now and I was looking forward to next year, when we had been promised a break—no tours, no albums, just a few commercials to make and interviews to carry out.
