Page 35 of The Story of Me
“Yeah, you know, they’re all struggling a little bit.” He sounds a bit evasive.
“What d’ya mean? What happened with the auditions? Did they find a new guitarist?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds. “No, to be honest with ya, George, I don’t think it’s gonna happen. Tommy and Bill have got their own agendas, and I don’t think they really include being part of the band… and Marley, I think Marls is wanting to do his own thing. He’s been writing a lot and I think perhaps he’s thinking of just going it alone.”
“You think or you know? He’s your brother, Len, and you’re his manager, so don’t tell me you don’t know what his plans are.”
“You need to speak to Marley.”
“But I’m speaking to you. What’s the big secret? If the boys wanna call it quits, then I totally understand; that’s their call, not mine. I won’t be pissed off with them. It’ll be sad but I won’t be pissed off.”
“I think that’s the way it’s looking, George. I think they wanna announce something over the weekend, but they’ve all been too scared to approach ya.”
“So why didn’t you? You’re their manager and my brother.” I hear him sigh, but I’m pissed off now; I’ve worked out why nothing’s been said and I’m a little hurt. “You all think I’ll fall apart, don’t you? You all think that if anything is said about the band splitting up, I’ll end up back in the nut house?”
“George…”
“No, Len, I’m disappointed. I was okay; I was doing okay until those bitches started touting their lies around the papers. I’m doing okay now. This weekend’s gonna be hard, of course it is, but I’m doing as well as anyone can expect. You only had to ask me, Len.”
“I’m sorry, George. It’s just... well before, ya know, when you split up, you wouldn’t talk about him or the band. This time, I just thought it would be the same… Or even harder for ya.” I pause to think about that for a few seconds. When Sean and I split up, I couldn’t listen to his songs. I couldn’t hear his name mentioned. I was terrified of accidentally coming across any mention, any link to him, constantly. But now? Now he’s dead; I listen to his music all the time. I have his music as my ring tone. I have pictures everywhere. I even have a picture of Sean, myself and Beau, in those last few moments before Sean died. No tubes, no machine, just us and our little boy, curled up together on a bed, all looking like we were sleeping, and I love that picture. Some may find it weird or warped, but I look at that photo as soon as I wake up in the morning and last thing before I go to bed at night. It brings me peace. It calms me. It helps me cope.
“It hurt differently then. The pain I felt then was different.”
“How? How was it different, George?”
“I was hurt and angry; I was humiliated. He was out there, living his life, and I wanted him back so badly.”
“But ain’t it worse, George? Ain’t the pain worse now?” Lennon’s voice is almost a whisper. My brother wants the answers to these questions, but he’s also terrified of them. He’s probably scared shitless of finding out just how broken I am. And I am. I am so very broken, probably beyond repair, but I’ll hold myself together enough. Coming here has fixed me enough to be able to hold it together for my family, to keep going for them, because what I’ve finally come to realise is that they, too, are broken. Jimmie and Ash tried to tell me how badly my family were coping at the very beginning, but I couldn’t see beyond my own grief back then. I just wanted the pain to be gone. I didn’t particularly want to die, but I just couldn’t bear to go on living. Now, now after a few months away and some time for reflection, I’ve realised my family need to get me through this. We are already, irrevocably, broken and shattered, but we have each other. We healeach other and if I don’t make it, then I feel that my whole family will implode. Not just my parents and brothers but my sisters-in-law and my nieces and nephews; for them, for each and every one of them, I will live with this hole that life has punched through my chest. I will get through one day at a time, and I will do my best to live some semblance of a life.
“George?” Lennon’s voice makes me realise I’ve been quiet for far too long.
“It is worse. It’s so much worse, Len. But this time, I know he’s not coming back. This time, I know there is nothing I can say or do; they’re not coming back. My husband and my baby are gone, and all I have are the memories, the pictures, the videos, the music.” I make a monumental effort to speak around the huge lump in my throat; it’s so big, it’s actually painful, but I push on. “I’m luckier than most, Len. Mine and Sean’s entire relationship has been documented. Out there somewhere are photos and videos, songs, interviews; there’s so much I can draw from, things I’ve never seen before and want to. I want to see it all. I want to hear him and see him on my telly. I want to hear his songs on the radio, and I want every memory I can have of him.” I cuff my nose as my tears run. “It hurts, Len. It’s the most excruciating pain a human can endure, but I’ll take it. I’ll own it and I’ll wear it like a badge of honour. And I’ll get by because I have all of you. I’ll get bybecauseof all of you and I’ll get byforall of you.” I know my brother’s crying; I’ve reduced two big brothers to a blubbering mess in the space of two days; who’d have thought. I pause and draw breath again. “I’m coming home, Len. Not till next week. I can’t be there this weekend, but I want to be back there with all of you. I miss you all and I’m ready.” There are a few seconds of silence.
“George, seriously, I don’t even know where to begin. I don’t know how to reply to what you’ve just said.”
“Then don’t say anything, Len, but don’t hide things from me, either. If the band is gonna split up, tell me. I won’t fall apart. I promise,”
“Well, that’s good to hear, George. Now you need to ring little brother Marley and convince him.” I don’t like that term. I’m not trying to convince anyone. I’m just stating a fact.
“Well then, I will just have to call and let him know the facts.”
We end the call with me promising to let him know as soon as my flights are booked, and in the end, Lennon can’t help but let his control-freakery take over: he decides it will be better for him to book my flights. I’m fine with that; one less thing for me to worry about.
I call Marley next, but I get no answer, so I leave a voice message and tell him I will call later. I try Ash but she’s not answering either. I sit on my bed with my legs crossed and stare down at my phone. I know whose number I want to call. I know whose voice I want to hear, but I’m not entirely sure why. I’ve had this ache inside me; ever since I spoke to Cam on Saturday night, it’s been there, and I’m struggling with it. I’ve just poured my heart out to my brother. I’ve just admitted that I keep going for my family, and because of them, I want to keep going. However, sitting here on my own, staring down at Cam’s number on the screen of the phone in my hand, I can’t do it; I won’t admit a single thing to myself.
I make myself a coffee and bring it back to bed and then I call Jackson; I need a Jackson chat. He’s busy all day, so we arrange to meet down at the bar this evening. I give Marley’s number another try, but this time, his phone’s switched off and not even going to voice mail. I stare down at Cam’s number again for a few seconds. I want to call him, but I need to get my head around why before I speak to him. Brooke comes padding through my bedroom door and gets into bed next to me.
“You smell of sex,” I tell her. I’d just heard her latest casualty begging not to have to leave ten minutes ago. She gives out a long sigh.
“I actually smell of bad sex.”
“Oh, dear,” I reply.
“Yeah, it was shit house, if I’m totally honest, but no worries. He’s gone now, never to be seen again.” I smile as I look at her and shake my head slightly, instantly reminding myself of Cam.
“How was your weekend? How’s Jodie?”
“Yeah, it was okay. The club had a thing for all the staff, sort of like a practice night before the opening. Everyone had to work an hour each; it was cool. The place is amazing.”
