by Lesley Jones
My dad reached across and took my mum’s hand, his actions causing yet another lump to form in my throat. When you’re growing up, your parents are only ever that, ‘Mum and Dad.’ You don’t think of them as husband and wife, a couple, and definitely not lovers, but as you got older, you appreciated what they were to each other—that once upon a time, they were young and in love.
I love my wife even more now than I did when I first admitted that fact to myself. I fancy her more too and know that no matter what, I would have her back. There’s nothing she could ever do to make me doubt her. She’s my lover, wife, and best friend, and there’s no one that could ever replace her in my world, nor would I want there to be. I’m pretty sure that’s how things were for my parents too. My dad would support my mum whether he thought she’d fucked up or not, and that was exactly how it should be.
“You should have said something … you should have said something, Bern.”
“To who, Frank? If I’d told you and Bailey, you’d probably have gone after Sean. And if I’d said anything to Marley, Lennon, or Jimmie, it could’ve caused trouble for the band,” she told him.
“What about me? Did you never consider talking to me?” George asked her.
“No, George. In all honesty, I didn’t.” She sounded adamant that she made the right call, but I wasn’t so sure.
“You’d been fragile for so long. There was no way I’d chance setting you back. You’d been so badly broken by what you thought went on in that hotel, that I was terrified that if you found out Sean had been two-timing you for years, it might just kill you. I’m your mother. It’s my job to protect you at all costs.”
“Well, you fucked right up on that score, didn’t you,” Georgia bit out. “All you’ve managed to do is cause me untold misery these past four years.” I watched as George took Bailey’s glass from his hand and tipped the contents down her throat. She didn’t even drink bourbon, but she was giving it a good go tonight.
“What I’m failing to understand is this story about George going to the boys’ place, trying to get in and causing a scene. What’s that all about?” Jimmie asked my mum.
“Well, that’s when alarm bells should’ve started to ring,” she replied.
“No shit, Sherlock,” Bailey whispered loudly.
“Do you remember, Jim, when that magazine did that big feature on your wedding, and in the interview, the reporter asked if it was gonna be awkward having Georgia and Sean there together?” We all nodded. Jimmie had been a nervous wreck. She and Len were quite often photographed out with the band, but they were never stalked individually the way that Maca and I were. They were never front and centre of the attention the press paid us, and Jim was worried that by doing the interview and allowing photos of them to be used for the feature, that would all change.
“Well, this Mandy, the girl that claimed she was Maca’s secret girlfriend, called me and said that Georgia had found out where the boys lived and had gone to their place and tried to get past security. They’d threatened to call the police, but she’d convinced them not to and explained that George was Marley’s sister. She said that Georgia was obviously in need of psychiatric help, and that Sean wanted her kept away from him, including at the wedding.”
Shit, I vaguely remember my mum calling me and banging on about that. I was severely hungover and had two birds—twins, if I recall—in bed with me. I actually couldn’t get my mum off the phone quick enough and the call was instantly forgotten.
My brain was in overdrive … Mandy? I know we’ve fucked around with a lot of birds over the years, but I don’t remember a Mandy.
“I swear to God, this has nothing to do with me. I don’t know any birds called Mandy,” Maca stated, all the while looking at me for backup.
I think I mumbled something along the lines of, “No, no Mandy,” all the while shaking my head and thinking, ‘Do we know a Mandy?’
My mum was talking, but the words weren’t getting in as I tried to think of anyone we’d banged over the years that had stalkerish tendencies, but I came up blank. Well, apart from—
My mouth dropped open. My eyes caught Jimmie’s, and much like mine, her mouth was hanging open.
Oh shit.
“When Marley and Sean came to the house with those girls, all you kept repeating, Georgia, was ‘How could he? She looks just like her.’ I eventually realised that it was the girl you had the problem with, not Sean.”
I felt like I was drowning; choking and suffocating, all while suffering a coronary. I wanted my mum to shut up. I didn’t want her to tell George who it was behind it. She’d blame me. I started the ball rolling by inviting the crazy bitch back to our hotel room. I’d just got my sister back in my life, now I was about to lose her again and possibly my best mate too.
“I made them for you, George,” my mum’s voice broke into my panicked thoughts. “Every piece of news on the boys, I kept and put it in a scrapbook in the hopes that one day, you’d be able to look at it.”
My mum wiped a tear from under each of her eyes and I thought in that moment, we were all torn. Even George looked sorry for my mum, and then her expression changed. My sister was a clever girl, and her brain was beginning to put the pieces together. I knew in that instant that my sister had started to think exactly along the same lines as I was. I watched as she covered her mouth with her hand. Her wide eyes swung from mine to Jimmie’s, and then back to my mum. I felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, and we were all just barely managing to breathe.
“I kept the good stuff and the bad stuff,” my mum continued with the words that I dreaded, that would potentially isolate me from my family once again.
“All of the newspaper pictures and articles, even old song lyrics. I kept them. I sat and went through them all until I found what I was looking for.” My mum looked at my dad, tears rolling down her face as he held her hand tightly. “That’s when I realised I’d made an almighty fuck up,” she sobbed out.
“Oh no. No, no, no,” George begged out loud, shaking her head as if it would stop my mum’s words from being true.
Jimmie was shaking her head in much the same way as George was. She stared at Maca, but realisation hadn’t hit him yet.
Len’s eyes landed on mine as he whispered, “No fucking way.”
My dad and Bailey just looked confused.
Jimmie and George locked eyes. “Whorely?” Jimmie half questioned, half stated.
“It was the girl from the rape charge,” my mum said quietly.
Maca was up and on his feet before anyone could grab him. I lurched forward, fearing that he was gonna slap or shake my mum, but it was my sister he turned to.
“No, no fucking way. I have not clapped eyes on that girl since that day. There is not, and never was, anything between me and her, G, never. I swear on my life.”
Fuck.
Maca was in meltdown mode. I was ready to jump in and back him up one hundred and ten percent when my sister shocked the shit out of me by saying, “I know, I know. I believe you.”
The entire room went silent. Even Bailey looked stunned.
Maca sat back down next to George and took her hand. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side as she wrapped her free arm across her front, like she was trying to hold herself together.
“Fuck,” she said on an exhale, sounding like she still couldn’t quite believe all the shit.
“That girl really does hate me. She’s gone all out to ruin my life and keep us apart for all this time.”
“Either that, or she’s just a fucking nutter,” Bailey finally spoke.
“I need a drink,” Georgia said.
Drink? I needed that, and possibly every drug in town.
Haley White … Haley fucking White.
What a conniving little bitch she was. I was stunned, I was angry, and so fucking relieved that nobody seemed to be blaming me for what she’d done.
Chapter Seventeen
1989
&nbs
p; The following night we went to one of our favourite Indian restaurants. We were regulars back in the day and had even held meetings there when things first started to take off for us.
Maca and George had stayed at Jimmie and Len’s the night before. After my parents had left and things had calmed down a little bit, Bailey had mentioned in front of Maca that George had been seeing someone. We’d shut him down as quickly as we could, and then the lot of us had proceeded to get pleasantly stoned.
George had come over to our place that afternoon. She and Maca were all over each other, so I assumed Cameron King was no longer in the equation, and they had sorted their shit out and were back together.
Like the night before, after my parents had left that is, I felt this weird sense of … I don’t know what, exactly. I felt calm and content, happier than I had in a long time. I was sitting, eating dinner with four of the people I loved most in the world and it warmed the cockles, as my dad would say.
Despite Len booking a table towards the back and in the corner of the restaurant, we were still recognised and asked to sign autographs, but even those interruptions couldn’t dampen my happy mood. In that moment, I didn’t feel like a rock star. I didn’t think about the places I’d been, the people I’d met, or the things I’d seen over the past few years. For the next few hours, I just kicked back and enjoyed my favourite food with my brother, sister, and two of my best friends.
Then we tried to leave the place and all hell broke loose.
Some fucker had tipped off the press and they were everywhere.
I’d just told George she needed to eat a few more curries and fatten herself up as we walked outside. She’d turned to me and said, “Fuck you, Marls. That’s as insulting as telling a fat person they should eat less and lose weight.”
“Ignore him, babe. You’re fucking perfect,” Maca had called out from behind me.
“You’re such a brown nose, McCarthy,” I told him.
“What?” he replied. “She is perfect. Too skinny, but always perfect in my eyes.”
“You’re such a wanker,” I said.
Suddenly flashes were going off and Georgia was almost pushed over.
I heard a “Fuck off,” being yelled from Maca and an “Oh shit,” from Len, who had waited inside for Jim to use the bathroom.
I grabbed a hold of George and tucked her under my arm as the cameras flashed all around us as reporters screamed out questions.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
“Are you going home with both the boys?”
“Are you the latest piece of meat in a Marley and Maca sandwich?”
Cheeky fuckers.
I wanted to knock the bitch that asked that last question flat on her arse, but I didn’t hit women, even arseholes like her. I wanted to scream at all of them that she was my little sister, but there was no way I was giving up that piece of information.
“Keep your head down and don’t say a word,” I said into her temple, not sure if she could hear me above all of the commotion going on around us. I kissed the top of her head in reassurance as I could feel her entire body shaking as I held her.
Maca unlocked his car from behind me and I shoved my sister into the passenger seat.
“Keep your head down,” I told her again before running back to help Maca, Len, and Jimmie out. They were surrounded by a bunch of screaming girls, as well as the journalists and photographers.
“Get the fuck outta here,” I told Maca. “I’ll go with these guys. You’re probably better off staying at G’s.”
He moved away from Jimmie’s side and I replaced him in protecting her from the pushing and shoving.
We’d given Milo the night off, convinced we’d be fine just nipping out to our local Indian restaurant with our family, but it was a lesson learned. It was no longer possible for us to nip anywhere and it dawned on me that Georgia had just had a rude awakening to what our lives were like these days, and I wondered how she’d deal with the press intrusion. Once they found out her and Maca were back together, her life would change considerably.
George rang me Saturday afternoon while I was still at my brother’s place to invite me to a party at my dad’s club that night. It was for a mate of hers and Jimmie’s, and Len and Maca were both going. I said that I was up for it too. Everything felt right with my world, except I was still the odd one out, still the single one.
When Maca came to pick me up later, I knew something was up with him straight away. He was quiet the entire drive back to our place.
“What do you know about her and this bloke she’s been seeing?” he asked, sitting down on the sofa as soon as we were in the door.
I took off my jacket and hung it on the back of a bar stool before sitting on the sofa opposite him.
“I don’t know anything. Jim and Len mentioned that she was seeing someone a few months back, but that’s all I know. She’s never mentioned him to me,” I told him honestly.
I didn’t know anything about my sister’s relationship, other than it was Cameron King that she was seeing. His family had a bit of a reputation around our way. They were the type that you didn’t mess with. A bit like my family, I suppose, although I had never been a part of that life. I wasn’t stupid. I knew that my dad, uncle, and brother had earned themselves a name as the type of businessmen you didn’t ever want to upset, but that was all I would say on that subject.
That hadn’t been Maca’s question though. He’d asked about my sister’s relationship, not who it was with. I should’ve stepped up and told him exactly who it was my sister was seeing, but I’d decided that I was staying the fuck out of their shit. If there were any revelations to be made, they could be the ones going ‘Ta Da,’ not me. I was staying the fuck away from anything that might cause trouble in paradise. I’d learned my lesson, well and truly.
“She’s been seeing him for a while then?”
“A few months, Mac. That’s all I know.”
“Is she fucking him?”
“What the fuck? I don’t know. I don’t wanna know and if you do, then you best have that conversation with my sister,” I told him. She’s twenty-years-old. They’d been seeing each other a while, so of course they were fucking. But like I said, I’m staying the fuck outta dodge.
He threw himself back against the sofa, letting out a long sigh and looking up at the ceiling.
“Maca, if this is gonna be an issue for you, then you need to either deal with it or move the fuck along. I’m not gonna sit back and let you break my sister’s heart and then watch you fall apart with guilt all over again.”
“I’m so fucking jealous and I’ve no clue how to handle it, Marls,” he said with honesty. “This is all new for me. There’d been no one else before me … I don’t … fuck, I don’t know. I’ve just gotta get my head around the fact that she’s lived a life while we’ve been apart,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders.
“It’s been four years, Mac. Have a little think about what you’ve been up to in that time. Like I said, you either need to move past it or move on.” I’m pissed off with him now and feeling defensive of my sister. Whatever she may or may not have been doing with regards to her sex life, I’d bet she’d lived like a nun compared to the things we’d been up to, at least I fucking hoped she had.
I shuddered.
“Can we end this convo please? My sister’s sex life is really not my favourite subject … ever.”
He gave me a small smile. “Ah, well, what’s done is done. I love her and want her back regardless. I’m just a jealous fucker, but I’ll get over it. She’s meeting him Monday to breakup with him anyway.”
He pushed up from where he was sitting. “I’m starving. We got any food here?”
“There’s bread in the freezer and beans in the cupboard, if you fancy beans on toast.” I tell him, grateful for the subject change.
We enter my dad’s club for Georgia’s mate’s party, just after midnight. Len had arranged extra security and we were smuggled in a back do
or and straight up to the VIP area.
The only people I recognised were Bailey and Lennon. There was no sign of the girls.
“Gia not here yet?” Maca asked straight away.
“Downstairs dancing,” Len said.
“For fuck’s sake, Len, why’d you let her go down there?”
“She’s a grown up, Mac. I can’t tell her where to go. They wanted to dance, and it’s not very busy up here yet.”
“She’ll be fine, mate,” Bailey added. “She’s here nearly every week and we never have any problems. You’re the famous one, Maca, not her.”
“I need a drink.” Maca said.
We had a few bourbons and a couple of lines of coke before we left our place, and I could tell he was a bit edgy.
And before you judge about the drugs … again, it was what it was. The area that we grew up in—the circles that we were mixed in—drugs were just a part of our lives. They were as normal for us on a Saturday night as a film and a takeaway were for others. I didn’t indulge too much during those days, but I did still like a joint, and that would never change.
Maca went to the bar and got us both a drink, then went over to the balcony so he could look down at the dance floor below.
“You need to chill the fuck out, mate,” I told him as he scanned the crowd for my sister.
“Fucker,” was the reply I got. I followed his gaze and watched as my sister turned and gave it to some bloke that was trying to grind up against her. He held his hands up, as if surrendering, when George pointed her finger at him. He turned his charms on a girl in a silver dress whose face I couldn’t see and I laughed along with Jimmie and George as the girl turned around and grabbed the bloke by the throat before calling over one of the bouncers. I still couldn’t see the girl’s face, but she had a nice arse. Jimmie held her hands up in an ‘I give in’ gesture, and the three of them carried on dancing.
