Page 84 of Conviction
I shiver. I’m still sitting on the edge of the bed with just a towel wrapped around me. He tilts his head to the side while looking at me. “Do I disgust you?” he asks very quietly.
I shake my head no, without a second’s hesitation. “You don’t disgust me, Con. You were broken and lost your way. What you were doing then, has nothing to do with what we have now. I just hate that she brought part of that world into our home. I don’t like her, Con. I get that you have to work with her, but I don’t want her here again.”
He shakes his head. Reaching out to run his fingertips over my cheek.
“You heard what I said to her, to both of them. I was just coming to bed when they turned up. Lawson said that Amanda was worried and insisted they come and check on me.”
I bet she fucking did.
“Wouldn’t a phone call have been enough?” I ask.
“It would. I know it was just an excuse. She’s always wanted more, I told her from the very beginning that it was just sex, but she calls and texts continuously. Just about every time I see her I make it clear that she needs to stop, that she’ll never mean anything to me,” he’s getting angry again as he speaks. “I’m sorry Meebs. I’m sorry for having such a fucked up past, and I’m sorry for all the shit that’s going on in the news about us right now. It pisses me off that they never give me a chance. That they never just come and ask me outright for the truth. They’ll print and report their made up stories, and it won’t matter what I say or do afterwards, the public will only remember the shitty parts.” He stands up and starts to pace.
“Con, it’s okay. We’ll deal with it.Weknow the truth,” I try to reassure him.
“That’s not the point though, Meebs. You don’t know what they’re like. They won’t see us as people. They’ll just see us as a story. Their next headline. It scares me. I’ve dealt with their bullshit before, they know all of my secrets, but they’ll dig up everything they can on you, Meebs. Everything.” I watch the column of his throat move as he swallows hard. “I’m scared you’ll run. I’m scared you won’t be able to handle it. Just for once, I wish they’d see me as a person. One that’s capable of feelings, of loving and hurting. Then perhaps they’d see us as a couple in love, not a fucking commodity. Just for once, I wish they’d see me for more than this, Meebs.” I recoil as he slaps himself, hard around the face. “And this.” He grabs at his crotch. “They think that that’s what I’m all about, that there’s nothing but my face and my reputation as someone who fucks a lot of women. Someone who’s been to prison, who was in a car crash, trapped, upside down, watching as his brother took his last breath. That I’m someone that hid in the corner and watched as his mother’s pimp, dealer or whatever the fuck he was squeezed her throat until the light went out of her eyes, which just happened to be looking at me at that moment.” I watch as he stands in front of me and wipes his nose across the back of his hand. My heart is breaking into so many tiny pieces as I witness his anguish, that I doubt that it’ll ever be whole again. “It’s always the shit, Meebs. They never see the good in me, only the shit and I’m so scared, so fucking scared that eventually, one day, that’s all you’ll see too.”
My entire being hurts for him, my heart, lungs and bones, my hair and my skin. Everything that I am is in pain as the man I love bares his soul to me.
“I love you, Con. I love you so much, and I’ll never leave. We’ll get through this. I swear I won’t run. We’ll stand and fight the fuckers together. As long as I have you, Con, I can do that.”
He drops to his knees in front of me and puts his head in my lap. I rake my fingers through the hair of my poor broken rock star and try my hardest to make his world just a little bit better as he cries and I cry.
The birds start to sing, the sun eventually begins to rise, a new day dawns, and we eventually climb under the duvet still clinging to each other, cocooned from the outside world. Just me and him hanging on tight until sleep finally claims us.
I’ve given Matt two weeksoff and drive Meebs and myself down to Cornwall, after causing a diversion to avoid the press hanging about outside the gates of our home, we escaped unnoticed. I bought the house here last year, but I haven’t visited it since and I want to give Meebs the opportunity to decorate it to her taste. I want her to feel like this is hers as much as mine.
Cornwall is the place we were going to hide out when we ran away. We never made it, but it’s always held a special place in my heart. It’s the place that I spent the only holiday of my life with all of my family. I was around four, and it was straight after that my mum left my dad and moved myself and my brothers back to London. None of us then realising that within less than a year, our beautiful, funny, vibrant Mum would be dead.
The house overlooks the water in Truro and is relatively isolated, and apart from the odd meal out, I plan on keeping the pair of us locked away from the rest of the world.
Sunday was horrible. The papers running with stories ranging from me being some kind of pedo, to Meebs being a dirty little harlot.
We put out a joint statement saying the reports of an underage sexual relationship were pure fabrication. We admitted that yes, Nina had lost a baby, but that she was almost seventeen at the time. Other than that, we were giving them nothing.
Meebs’ parents and her brother had called to add their opinions, but my girl had done me proud when she told them to fuck off and mind their business. She’d told her brother that she knew exactly what he’d done to get her to marry Newman and that he’d better stay out of her life from here on out. I had a strong suspicion that her brother and/or husband were behind the press finding out about our relationship. They were always going to find out at some stage, but I’d just wanted more time to make sure we were solid before it all blew up.
I felt ashamed of my little breakdown in front of Meebs, but it also made me feel good… cleansed. She knew the truth. She knew about my fucked up sexual encounters, and she knew about my insecurities regarding the press and the public’s perception of me. She was also now aware of the fact that I was terrified she’d leave me. She’s promised that will never happen and I’m going to make sure of that by asking her to be my wife sometime during this break. I know she’s not divorced yet, but as of today, I’ve got a little team on board finding out everything they can about Marcus Newman and Pearce Matthews. Hopefully, by the end of this holiday, I’ll have something on Newman, which will convince him that he needs to sign those divorce papers, sharpish.
“There’s no furniture,” is the first thing Meebs says as she walks through the house.
“No shit Sherlock,” I mock.
“How can we stay here if there’s no furniture?” I pull her into my arms as she asks.
“You like the house?”
“I love the house.”
“Good, well I want you to pick the furniture, new carpets and tiles too. I’ve arranged for a team of interior decorators to come in over the next few days. They’ll bring samples, and we can make this place, a home, together,” I tell her. She looks up at me with those big blue eyes of hers, and I have to start undressing her. I need her naked and underneath me, like right now.
We don’t even make it up to the bedroom and simply fuck on the floor of what will be the family room, in front of the vast open fire.
The next week goes byin a blur. Meebs consults with furniture makers, kitchen fitters and the interiors people. She’s got a firm opinion of how she wants the place to look, so I just nod and agree.
By the time Friday arrives, we have everything organised with all of the trades to come in and start work the Monday after we leave. We’ve interviewed a local bloke from the village to come in, and project manage for us. He’ll liaise with all of the contractors on our behalf and contact us if there are any problems. His name is Mick, and we liked him as soon we start talking to him. He’s retired but ran his own construction firm for over forty years, eventually handing it down to his three sons. We’re happy and confident that he’ll keep everything in order until we can next get back.
The following week we have days out, exploring the beaches and countryside nearby. I keep my cap and glasses on, and the only time I’m recognised is when we surf on the day before we’re due to leave, but after smiling for a couple of pictures, we jump into the car and head back home. I’m happy to sign autographs and pose with my fans all day long. What I’m not prepared for though, is the press finding out where I am, or about this house.
