Page 145 of All the Forbidden Things
“No charge and Micky’s got smashed. We’re on our way back now. What happened? Billie okay?”
“Billie’s fine. She came back here this morning to pick up some things and there was a pool party happening. A naked, coke-snorting pool party.”
“Oh really?” My skin prickles with this all might mean for me. For us.
“Billie had the wherewithal to record everything on her phone before calling the police.”
“Good girl. Is this gonna be a problem for me? With the police, I mean?”
“I don’t think so, but be prepared . . . the place is swarming with them and reporters.”
“Great.”
“It’s not all bad news, I think after this, your divorce and custody problems might be over.”
“Let’s hope so Al. Could you do me a favour and put Billie on for a second, I just want to check she’s okay?”
“She’s in her bedroom right now. I think she was going to take a shower.”
“Okay. I’ll talk to her later. We’ll be there soon.”
“Max, before you go, there’s something you should know—”
“Out with it, Al.”
“The marching powder your wife was filmed snorting earlier,isapparentlyexactlythat.”
“Not following.”
“I watched the footage, after snorting two lines, Whitney made a miraculous recovery, stood up, and walked to the edge of the pool before diving in.”
My head falls back and I stare at the roof interior of the car.
“No fucking way?” Is all I can think to say.
“Yeah, I said something similar when Billie told me.”
“So has she been lying the whole time?”
“I don’t know, but it’s something I’m going to look into. The fact her sister was her physio and she supplied her own nurse probably should’ve rung some alarm bells.”
“Yeah, but come on, who lies about shit like that? Who’d pretend to be disabled?”
“Your wife apparently.”
“I actually have no words. I honestly don’t know what to say.”
A ripple rolls through me. A wave of energy is the only way I can describe it, and I think it’s every last bit of feeling I might have still been holding on to for Whitney. I haven’t liked her for months, but I still felt bad for her situation. Not anymore. I’m done, and I will do everything in my power to make sure she plays no part in my daughter’s life.
We reach London in therecord-breaking time of one hour and seventeen minutes, Mick and me in the front, Cal, Jake and Jay in the back. I’m not sure exactly why Jay came with us, I think he just wants to show his support, but whatever his reasons, it feels good to be surrounded by my band.
Tension builds inside me, and my knee starts to bounce as we turn into my street. Mick puts his head out of the car window and explains to a policewoman who we are. There are four police cars parked along the road, and the press are having a party at my gate. The instant they spot the Rover, noise erupts all around us as reporters shout out their requests for information, and the whole place lights up like Christmas with camera flashes.
I call Aaron to let him know we’re pulling in, and the gates swing open. Camera lenses crack against the tinted windows, and the car becomes surrounded. Mick keeps his hand on the hooter and his foot on the pedal.
“You’ll get dead, motherfuckers! I’ll take you all out,” he shouts over the commotion. We all laugh when he cranks Drowning Pool’s “Bodies” and all sing along loudly about letting bodies hit the floor, flipping our middle fingers as we drive through the melee.
On the outside, I’m laughing and singing along as I headbang in a car with my bandmates. On the inside, I’m twisted up with anger that my ex has tricked me into believing she has a spinal injury, that my home is a crime scene, that I’ve had to leave my daughter in a different county, and that I had to put my girl through a shit ton of grief yesterday. Instead, I try and focus on the fact that I’ll get to see Billie in a few minutes.
