Page 42 of Marley
The girls become a little more subdued for all of ten minutes after that, but once the champagne starts flowing again, the noise level rises, all except for George, that is. She remains quiet, staring out over the pool and the tennis courts.
My alarm system bleeps, letting me know that someone has punched in the gate code and is approaching the house. I check on the monitor and see Cam’s Range Rover heading up the drive.
The front door is unlocked and I know that he’ll just let himself in. Georgia doesn’t notice as he stands, leaning against the doors that lead from the house to the deck. He gestures with his finger to his lips for me not to announce his arrival, and I get the pleasure of watching him look at George with complete and utter devotion written in his eyes as he raises his sunglasses to his head. G must sense she’s being watched as she turns and looks right at him, her face lighting up.
I’m turning into such a sad ol’ fucker. I can’t help but grin as I watch the silent exchange between my sister and her husband.
He walks towards her, lifts her from her chair and sits in it himself, placing G on his lap.
“Kitten.” Is all that he whispers into her hair, kissing her head as he does.
“T.” She greets him.
“Love the fuck outta you.”
“You better.”
“Heard we’ve had some tears. Tough day?”
“S’all better now you’re here.”
“I’m always here, Mrs. King, always.”
“T.D.H! How’s it hanging, dude?” My wife greets Cam, ending their moment as she leans in for a kiss to his cheek as she does.
They share a special bond, those three—well, the four of us, I suppose. We were all there to witness Cam and Georgia’s twin girls that Ashley had carried for them, being delivered by caesarean section over eleven years ago.
I can honestly say that it was like watching my own children being born, and equally as stressful. But just like with your own kids, when the drama of the birth was all over and the calm set in, I had the pleasure of witnessing this giant of a man fall apart when first one, then his second daughter, were placed in his arms.
My alarm bleeps again, letting me know that Lennon is approaching with food.
The rest of the evening is spent with the girls being noisy and us blokes just sitting back and enjoying the show.
Nobody made it to bed before three in the morning and the last to leave were Len and Jimmie at around noon on Sunday. Georgia and Cam leaft a little earlier to get back to the kids.
All of this means that I don’t get a chance to read again until Ash has gone to bed on Sunday night.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
1986
The rest of that American tour proceeded a lot quieter. Len made sure that alcohol on the bus was limited and any hotels that we stayed in were made aware that Maca and I are still under twenty-one.
When we arrive back in England in the very early autumn of 1986, we were called into Len’s office for a diary meeting to go over what we have booked for the next six months. Len, being a control freak and megalomaniac that he was, liked to have everything planned well in advance.
When we get there, he was on the phone.
“Why, what does she want? ... A what? ... Why the fuck does she want one of them? ... Well, if you don’t know, I certainly don’t ... When did they stop making them? ... Yeah, well, good luck with that.”
I continued to listen, wondering what the fuck was going on.
“Dad, what makes you think that she’d listen to me? ... Fine, I’ll try, but Jimmie’s got a better chance.”
Len looked up at me.
“Shame things weren’t better between her and Marley. It’s him you need on board for this one.”
I sensed Maca shift slightly in his chair next to me.
