Page 66 of The Interview
“Only you,” I tell him.
“Right here, baby. I’ll always have your back,” he replies while delivering another quick kiss.
I can’t decide right now if I want to kiss him, fuck him, or cry. I do none of those things. Instead, I turn back to face Daniel, who’s been watching our whole exchange.
“What happened when you tried to leave?” he asks.
“Someone had called the press—told them the boys were in the restaurant. It was a shitshow.”
“Fuck me, yeah, I’d forgotten about that,” Marley says. “Didn’t you get knocked to the floor, Jim?”
I don’t hear Jimmie’s response because I’m watching as Tanya, who was introduced to us yesterday as one of Daniel’s research team, steps in and says something in his ear. He nods, and my mind instantly goes to all the things a research assistant might uncover.
“How about all of you come down here and join us?” Daniel calls out. “You’re all a part of this. Would be great to have your input.”
It’s only then, I realise I’m holding my breath. I release a long exhale as relief washes over me. I don’t know what I was expecting, but I’m glad it’s this. I smile up at Lennon when he sits down next to me on the sofa, only to be quickly turfed out by Jim. Ashley sits on the other side while Len and Marley sit in front of them on the floor.
Rightly or wrongly, right at this very moment, I miss Sean.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
GEORGIA
“We stepped out of the restaurant into absolute pandemonium,” Len explains once everyone’s set up. “We were used to it by then, but it usually happened when we were expecting it: while on tour, making personal appearances, outside television or recording studios. By that stage, though, the boys always had security with them. This night, it was just us, and we were totally unprepared.”
My heart races as I recall the fear and anger I felt that night.
“That was G’s introduction to how her life was gonna go,” Marley explains.
Daniel’s eyes slide to mine.
“I’d had a little taste when me and Jim flew out to Spain, but this was a whole other level. The aggression from the photographers was unbelievable, and the things they said…” I draw in a breath, my lips rattling together on the exhale. “I was looking behind me when we walked out, so I didn’t see it coming. The first I knew that photographers were waiting was when I was literally pushed out of the way so they could get to Sean and Marley. Flashes were going off all around me, then someoneasked my name right before I got cracked on the head with a camera lens.”
“Georgia punched a photographer.” Marley laughs. “Only you, G. Only you.”
“I couldn’t see. Camera flashes were going off everywhere. I got hit right on the temple and just lashed out and happened to connect.”
“There were all these big ol’ paps surrounding us, and G punches one right on the jaw. He was from The Sun, I think, and he goes, ‘Watch it,’ and G goes, ‘You fucking watch it,’ ready to fight the fucker. Then he tells her to smile, and he’ll give her her five minutes of fame. Meanwhile, Maca’s losing his shit, and Len’s trying to pick Jim up off the floor.” Marley continues to laugh.
“Glad you found it funny. One of those paps trod on my fingers while I was on the floor.Iwanted to throw punches when Len managed to get me up,” Jim says.
“It was terrifying,” I add. “Marley literally had to run with me under his arm to Sean’s car, which he’d fortunately been able to unlock, then I locked myself in while Marls ran back to help everyone else. I just sat there, shaking, watching the chaos going on outside. Then a camera cracked against the car window, scaring the life out of me. I think I actually screamed. I remember having a moment, staring out the window, thinking,Is this how I want my life to be? Is this what’s going to happen every time we go for dinner, or lunch, or shop, or just leave the house?”
“We actually found a few images from that night,” Daniel says as the screen, once again, lights up.
And there we are, the five of us, young and laughing as we head towards the door. Sean and I are stepping out of the restaurant, still laughing. In the next image, I have my head turned back. I think I was saying something to Marley or Len.The next few are of Marley and me as he puts his arm around my shoulders to take me to Sean’s car. Then there’s Sean, looking unusually angry, pointing his finger at someone.
“That’s when Mac couldn’t get in the car,” Len says. “G had locked the door, and he couldn’t get his keys out quick enough.”
“I think I was catatonic by that stage, in complete shock. I sat there, absolutely useless as Sean tried to find his keys. Then, when he finally got the door open and got in, they shoved a camera inside. They were asking my name again while Sean was fighting with them to get the door closed.”
“Then,” Len takes over the story, “Maca pushes the door open and knocks the pap on his arse, jumps out the car, kicks the camera, and puts his boot right over the bloke’s throat. I had to spend most of the next day dealing with police reports and our legal team.”
“Poor you,” I add sarcastically. “Anyway, after that, we left. Marley jumped in with Len and Jimmie and went back to theirs. I had my own little flat above our Brentwood shop by then, so we went back there.”
Images appear on the screen confirming everything we’ve just said: a photographer on the floor, Sean climbing out of the white Land Rover he drove when we first got back together, then Sean standing with his boot on the photographer’s chest.
