Page 2 of The Story of Me
Prologue - Georgia
“So, Georgia, it’s good news.” My mum’s hand squeezed my right hand just a little bit tighter; Jimmie couldn’t have squeezed my left any tighter if she tried. I was pretty sure I was going to have nerve damage, or at least some broken fingers, if she didn’t ease up on her grip soon, but my mouth was so dry, I couldn’t say a word. I blinked a few times and watched Doctor Patrick Shepherd, the man who held my future in his hands, or in a test tube, if you wanted to get technical, or would it be biological? Anyway, the direction in which my life was about to go was all dependent on what he told me now. I felt sick. I felt hot. I felt cold… But at least I was feeling; that was something.
“We managed to harvest eight eggs and they have been successfully frozen; now all you need to do is decide on a donor. There’s no rush; take your time and let us know when you’re ready to proceed.”
Eight.
Eight eggs.
Eight chances.
A sob escaped my throat and a tear plopped into my lap as I hung my head. I didn’t want a donor; I wanted Sean. I wanted Sean’s babies. I wanted Sean and I wanted Beau. I wanted my boys back… But I knew that was impossible. I knew they were gone, and I would be so eternally grateful at this chance I had been given.
It had been by absolute pure chance that I’d found out there was a possibility of me having a baby of my own, and it was that hope that had kept me going these past nine months since I’d lost my husband and child.
Jimmie and my mum had come with me for a routine check-up with my gynaecologist, just over three months after the accident that ended my world, and it was there that we discovered something no one had been aware of at the time of my emergency surgery…The one remaining ovary I had left with after my ectopic pregnancy had been saved, and my eggs were probably still viable.
Jimmie didn’t hesitate; the instant the news registered with the three of us, she instantly offered her womb to carry my child in. She had offered once before, when she thought Sean and I were having trouble conceiving, but I didn’t think she actually meant it; she did. She called Lennon from my doctor’s office and simply told him what she had offered to do. She didn’t ask his permission. She told him and he simply agreed; as long as she was sure, he had no issue with it.
And so began a six-month course of fertility drugs for me, a cocktail of drugs to stimulate my one ovary and lo and behold, we had eight eggs, frozen until I decided on my next step. All Jimmie had requested was I make my choice by the time she was thirty-five; she had four children of her own to look after and really didn’t want to be over thirty-five, pregnant and running around after four kids.
Once again, the love, support and selflessness of my beautiful family had pulled me from the dark, and this time, this time, I was determined to never go back there.
Chapter One
My eyes flutter open, take in the early autumn sun and then close again. I take a deep breath in; I can smell him. He has been with me in my dream and now I can smell him, all around me, on me; I pull my knees to my chest and let out a sob.
Today is my birthday. The first birthday I have ever had without Sean being on the planet, without Sean existing. Okay, so I didn’t always know him, didn’t even know heexistedfor my first eleven birthdays, but he was still around, still alive and breathing, living his life. A month before my twelfth birthday, he was there in my back garden, looking at my knickers and asking me to show him my tits. And from that moment, from that day onwards, he had remained in my heart and he will always be there, owning it till the day I died.
I am thirty-two years old today. I sit up and press my back into the headboard of my bed, still holding onto my knees as I contemplate that thought. For twenty of those years, Sean had been a part of my life in some way or another; for almost three of them, he had been my husband. Now he was gone, and somehow, I had to get through today.
The fact that I had been given the news about the successful harvesting of my eggs less than a week ago is going to make this day more bearable. I know my family are here to hold my hand, to love and support me in whatever way they can. I know Sean will be around, too; he’d just told me in my dream. He’d kissed me senseless and wished me a happy birthday. He’d told me he loved me; that he was sorry he couldn’t be with me, but he needed to be with Beau, and they both wanted me to enjoy my day. Then he said the strangest thing; he told me not to forget to light the candles twice and he hoped I liked my flowers. Then he was gone, and all that was left was the smell of him on my skin when I woke.
I dream of him a lot, and my dreams are always so vivid; his touch, his taste but mostly his smell. I am always so sure he was really here. I could feel the silkiness of his hair as I ran my hands through it, when I pulled on it as his mouth sucked hard on my nipple, as he kissed his way down my belly; it was all so real.
I take in a deep breath, wipe my eyes and lean across for a tissue to blow my nose. My phone is flashing to alert me of a text message; in fact, there are several. I blow my nose, place the spare pillow in my lap and sit cross-legged on the bed as I read my messages. My brothers, my sisters-in-law, even my older nieces and nephews, who now all own mobile phones, have all messaged to wish me a happy birthday. However, there is one number marked as unknown and I stare at it for a while, debating whether I should open it.
I had received some beautiful letters from people all over the world after the accident, but I had also received hate mail wishing me dead and telling me it should have been me and not Sean who died. I had always received messages from the usual bunch of weirdos spouting filth or God to me, and somehow, a few people had managed to get hold of my parents’ phone number. They had called me here to scream abuse down the phone, but no one had ever gotten hold of my mobile number. I chew on the skin on the inside of my lip for a few moments, debating what to do; I shrug. “Let’s do this; love me, hate me, reading your message won’t change that,” I say out loud as I press open on the message.
Georgia, I know today will be a tough one for you, but I just wanted you to know I am thinking of you. I’ve checked in with your parents and Bailey every couple of weeks, and they tell me you’re doing as well as can be expected. I’ve wanted to talk to you for ages, but felt it was too soon; that you wouldn’t be ready. But I couldn’t let today pass without wishing you the happiest birthday you can possibly manage, and remember, I’m always here for you, if ever you need to talk, or just to get away.
Cam x
Wow. I stare at the message and read it at least five more times. He’s been checking on me with my brother and parents? My mum told me he called in the early days and I had felt grateful, but it had all been such a blur. He had always been so good to me, and I had treated him appallingly. I’d treated a lot of people appallingly at some stage or another in my life, but Cam especially.
I hadn’t really thought too much about Cam since Sean’s death. Then again, I hadn’t really thought too much about anything since Sean’s death; I had just focused on getting through each day. But before that, after the whole house-buying incident and Sean finding out about him being the previous owner of our old home, I had, in fact, gone out of my way not to think of Cam.
In the months since I lost Sean and Beau, I rarely left my parents’ house. My dad had set me up with a home office in the soundproofed room on the grounds, and from there, I re-immersed myself in the running of Posh Frocks, mine and my mum’s business, and I also became involved in a fair bit of charity work.
Sean was wealthy, very wealthy, and all he owned and all the future royalties from his music came to me; it was more money than I could spend in my lifetime. I had taken care of my brother Bailey’s mortgage and set up a trust fund for each of my nieces and nephews. I had given money to Sean’s family, despite the fact that he hadn’t included them in his will. I gave money to his mum, his dad and the half-brother and sister he had never met; the children his mum had gone on to produce after leaving Sean’s dad. They were now all set for life. My family didn’t need any help; they all had money in their own right. Bails was the only one with a mortgage and a loan, so I dealt with that and decided there were still far too many zeroes at the end of my bank balance. I didn’t want anything, nothing money could buyanyway, so I gave some to charity. I donated to the drug rehabilitation charity Sean had supported for so many years and I started a few new ones, mainly involving young people, music and fashion, and I ran my little empire from the studio in my parents’ backyard.
I had never once been back to the farmhouse that Sean and I owned. The contents were packed up and stored, all my personal stuff was brought over to my mum’s, and I had moved back into my old bedroom permanently, but I spent a lot of nights in my office, sleeping on the old Chesterfield that had been around for years. I still have nightmares about the accident, and I hate waking my parents up with them, so if I sleep in there, they’ll never know. Well, of course, they knew; they weren’t stupid, but at least they didn’t have to hear me scream and cry, and they could get a sound night’s sleep. In return, I usually got Sean in my dreams.
I stare down at my phone and wonder whether I should reply. I smile as I think about how formal the text sounds; no abbreviations, none of the text talk my other messages contained. He would be about fortyish by now, so I bet texting wasn’t something he usually did, and for some reason, the thought of Cam’s big fingers trying to type out a message makes me smile; a real, genuine smile that feels a little alien to me, since it has been so long. Before I think about it any longer, I reply.
How many attempts did that take with those huge sausage fingers of yours?
I stare at my phone for a few seconds, waiting on a reply; when none comes, I reply to all my other messages and then go into my bathroom for a wee. When I return, there is a message flashing.
