by Lesley Jones
“Happens to the best of us, mate,” he tells me. “You gonna come back to the other bar and have a drink with us or stay down here? I need to get back to Georgia.”
We both turned around to look in the direction of where my sister was but instead, I spotted her, Ashley, and Jimmie’s sister on the dance floor, where the three of them were strutting their stuff to Chaka Khan’s ‘Ain’t Nobody.’ I couldn’t take my eyes from Ashley’s arse as she raised her arms above her head and moved her hips.
My hard-on was instant
Georgia moved in behind her, Keeley, Jimmie’s sister in front, and the three of them grinded and moved against each other.
“Fuck me,” Maca said from beside me.
“Please tell me you’re not getting a boner watching my sister while you’re sitting next to me?” I pleaded, despite the fact I was sporting one myself.
“Na, I’m getting a boner watching your bird and your sister while sitting next to you,” he laughed.
“Yeah, me too.”
“We’re going to hell,” he said with a smile.
“Hope they have guitars.”
The next few seconds happened in slow motion and fast forward at the same time.
Desperate Dan appeared from nowhere and pulled George forcefully away from Ash, then pulled Ash towards him, grabbing her arse so that she was pressed right up against him.
I don’t know who moved first, me or Maca, but before we were even halfway to the dance floor, George had grabbed Dan by the hair and Ash had thrown a punch that caught him on the right side of his jaw.
I almost jumped through the air as I saw him raise his arm to hit either George or Ash. Luckily, Bailey got there and grabbed it, twisting it behind his back.
I swung as soon as I was within shot and my fist connected with his jaw. And as much as it hurt, it felt so fucking good so I did it again, and again. The only noise I could hear was my own blood rushing through my ears. The only sensation was my fists burning as the skin split when it connected with his teeth and the stubble on his chin. I didn’t even see his face in front of me, just the way he pulled my sister out of the way and his hands on Ashley’s arse.
I’m grabbed under the arms and hauled backwards. When I finally focused, my dad and Len were on either side of me, holding an arm each. Ash stood a few feet away, Bailey at her side as she sobbed. I tried to shrug off my dad and brother and reach out to her, but she stepped back, recoiling almost, and shook her head no.
“Stay away from me. Just stay away from my life,” she screamed before turning and leaving. I was held in place, going nowhere until fuckhead was thrown out.
I went into the toilet with Len and washed the blood from my hands, whilst apologising continuously.
“Marls, chill. He had it coming. He’d already abused the bar staff and threatened to knock Uncle Ted out. You put your hands on a woman, then you have to expect comebacks. He’s just lucky that you jumped in before Bailey got a chance to. He almost ripped his arm from his socket as it was.”
I was shaking badly and I had nowhere to channel the adrenalin.
“I need a drink,” I told Len.
“You and me both, brother, you and me both.”
Once we’re back at the bar, I found out that George and Maca had taken Ashley home. The venue was only around the corner from her flat, but I was worried ‘Soon To Be Dead Dan’ might follow her home.
I knocked back a double scotch, and then another before I spotted Georgia barrelling across the room towards me.
“What the fuck has gone on between you two?” She was right in my face as she asked.
“Georgia,” Maca warned when he finally caught up.
“Why, what’s she said?” I asked, getting a sense of déjà vu. I’m sure I’d asked that question before, or was the single malt fogging my brain?
I catch Maca shaking his head over George’s shoulder to let me know she was just digging. Ash hadn’t told her anything.
“It’s what she didn’t say, Marls. She’s so upset and angry with you and I don’t understand why. Ash don’t get that way over blokes. She never lets anyone close enough, so what’s gone on?”
Now I wanted to cry again. First Maca, and now my sister, setting me off like I’m on my period.
“You all right?” Genuine concern was in her voice as she reached forward and kissed my knuckles. I pulled her in and gave her a cuddle.
“I think I’m in love with your mate, Porge,” I confessed.
She stared up at me, looking a little confused.
“Wh-You mean Ash? You’re in love with Ashley?”
I nodded and smiled at her. She burst into tears and turned and looked at Maca. “My brothers love my two best friends. You love me, and we’re all gonna be a family.”
I kissed the top of her head.
“How much she had to drink?” I asked Maca.
“A lot,” he replied.
By the end of the night, I’ve had a bollocking from my mum before impressing her on the dance floor with my waltz. I’d gotten kisses, cuddles, and propositions from women aged between fifteen and rigor mortis. I’d had a slow dance with my sister and my new sister-in-law, the most beautiful bride I’d ever, at that point in my life, seen.
I’d taught a bunch of seven and eight-year-old cousins how to moonwalk. I’d told my dad, brothers, and Maca that I loved them at least a dozen times, and I’d drank far, far too much whiskey, bourbon, and champagne. I’d done everything except sing to my girl.
Despite being warned not to by just about everyone, I left the wedding and walked/staggered around the corner to Ashley’s flat and leaned on the buzzer until she answered.
“Fuck off, Marley.”
“S’not me. Him, s’not him, I mean. Open the door, Ash. I need to sing to you.”
“Go home, it’s late.”
“No, I can’t. I’ve bed no—I’ve got no bed. It green grew mouldy you memberer?” In my head, I knew exactly what I wanted to say, but my mouth had other ideas.
“Ash?”
“Rock Star?”
“Fuck, Ash, tha-that makes my balls tingle when you call me that. Say it again, baby, please, please, please.”
“Shall I tell you a secret, Rock Star?”
“Yeshssss. Yessss. Yes baby, tell me. Tell. Me.” I was seriously thinking about having a wank right there on her doorstep while I listened to her voice because for some reason, right at that moment, it seemed like a good idea.
“When you call me baby, it makes my fanny flutter.”
“Oh fuck. Oh Ash. Fuck me, baby.” I tried sliding my hand down the front of my trousers, but they were too tight. I’m up a flight of stairs, in a back alley. Surely no one would see if I just flopped my todger out and gave it a lil’ tug? No one would see.
“I like that, baby. I like that a lot, that I make your fanny flutter makes me happy. Hard and happy. You gonna let me in?”
“I might.”
“G’on. You know you wanna.”
“It’s nothing to do with whether I wanna, it’s whether I should.”
Ha, todger. That was a funny word. I wondered how someone came up with that one.
“If I let you in, are you gonna behave?”
I nod my head yes. “Absolutely not.”
“I shouldn’t even be considering this. I’ve had too much wine.”
“You should. You so should, Ash, and shall I tell you why, shall I baby? My baby, baby, baby love?”
I heard her laugh, but I couldn’t see down the intercom, so I didn’t know what was funny.
“Tell me, Rock Star … why?”
“Coz, baby. Coz if you met le… met, fuck’s sake. If you let me in, not only will I make your fanny flutter, but I’ll make—” I suddenly get the giggles and can’t get my words out.
“What, Rock Star? You’ll make what?”
“Ahhh. Oh dear. Yeah, sorry.” I cleared my throat. “I’ll not only make your fanny flutter, but I’ll make your minge twinge.”
> Funniest. Joke. Ever.
I laugh so much I throw up.
“Marls?”
I stand from my bent double position and Ash was standing in the open doorway of her flat.
“Ash, I’m sry. I’m so, so sry. I’m am sorory I ran. I’m think… I think love you an… and I think I just crapped myself…”
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Back up, Rock Star. You think you love me? You mean you don’t know yet?”
I laughed coz when she went all ‘Whoa Whoa Whoay’ on me, I thought I was gonna get another bollocking, but I didn’t, so I was gonna laugh.
“Ha, of course. Of course I know. I knew at your party, baby. It’s your party, baby, and you’ll cry…” I sing to her, coz I was a good singer, right? I was in a band and all that. Then I panicked.
“No, no, don’t cry. I’m sorory I made you do that cry. I am so surry.”
“I’m not crying, Marls. What the fuck you on about?”
“I dent… I. I dunno. Ash, baby, I think I might be a dit brunk. Drunk. A bit drunk.”
“Ya think, Rock Star?”
“Yeah, yeah. I think so.”
“And did you just say that you crapped yourself?”
“Yeah, yeah. I think I did.”
“What, like literally?”
“No. No, that would stink, you’d smell it if I did that. I like meant scared. When I ran away. I’m sry I did it but I was … I was scared, baby.”
“A scared Rock Star, eh?”
“Tefferied.”
“You better come in then.”
And that’s the last thing I remembered about the night I convinced my wife to marry me.
We flew to Vegas the next day and never told a soul. We kept our secret wedding a secret for twenty-five years. So much of our life was public knowledge, so much of our time was spent dealing with my family that we kept that little piece of info just for ourselves, just for us. We threw a party for our Silver wedding anniversary and didn’t tell anyone what it was for until they got there. I thought my mum was gonna kill me, but it was George that landed the first blow, then Jim, but they forgave us and I’d like to say that from that point on, we all lived happily ever after, but some of us didn’t.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Present
I wake to the sensation of a weight being lifted from my chest and being replaced by a pair of warm thighs straddling me.
I open my eyes to see my wife looking down at me. “I was just dreaming about you,” I tell her with a smile.
“Yeah? Was it a hot dream?” she asks before leaning in and kissing me, her breath tasting of mint, coffee, and Ashley.
Sexiest breath ever.
“You were in it baby, so of course it was hot.” She reaches behind her and slides her hands inside my boxers, giving my morning wood a tug.
“Hmmm. Well, if you would’ve come to bed last night, I could’ve dealt with this for you,” she says while giving me a delicious little stroke.
“You were out cold and I need to get this book read and make a decision.” That ends her attention to my dick.
“How’s it looking?” She turns back to face me and asks.
I slide my hand up her T-shirt and give her tits a squeeze.
“Not as good as these,” I tell her honestly. We’d had a massive argument about these after she had George and Cam’s twins.
Cam had paid for her to have a tummy tuck, which I wasn’t entirely happy about, but as she’d done something so life changing for them, I kept my mouth shut and went along with it. But then once that was done, she started going on about a boob job and there was no fucking way that was happening.
“Your tits fit my hands so fucking perfectly.”
“Don’t change the subject. What’s going on with the book?” She slides her hands up my T-shirt now and rakes her nails over my nipples.
“Ouch,” I whine.
“Book, Rock Star. Talk to me.”
“Ow,” I screech as she does it again.
“All right, all right. Yeah, it’s … I don’t know. Some of it’s too personal and needs to be taken out, but I wanted it all in there to start with so I was clear in my head what should or shouldn’t stay.”
She looks at me with a frown.
“If you know what I mean?”
“Not really,” she replies honestly.
“Na, me neither,” I admit. “I’ll just read it till I’m done, take out what I think should be taken out, and then let you have a look.”
“Why don’t you read it, then let me and I’ll tell you what I think needs to come out. Wouldn’t that be a more objective way of doing it?”
“Maybe.”
“When will you be done?”
“By tonight if I spend today on it.”
“You not rehearsing?”
“Na. Tomorrow and the rest of the week, but today I’m free.”
“Wanna start it with a bang, Rock Star?”
My dick gets harder when she calls me this, and as ever, my heart and insides do strange things. “That sounds like a plan.”
“I need to go have a quick wash first. I didn’t shower last night.”
“No ya don’t. Apart from the fact that you’re wearing too many clothes, you’re perfect as you are.” I tell her, whilst trying to lift her T-shirt over her head.
“I don’t feel fresh,” she complains.
“You feel fucking fine to me, baby,” I tell her while sucking on a mouthful of tit. “How many times do I have to tell ya, I like your fanny smelling like a fanny, not like gooseberry and dandelion, or whatever other shit you shower with.”
“Patchouli and saffron,” she says on a groan as I rub my thumb over her clit.
“Whatever. None of it smells as good as Ash fanny au natural. If only we could bottle that, I’d be wearing it on my fingers, tongue, and around my neck all fucking day.”
I slide her down my body, lift her by her hips and slip inside her.
“Fucking perfect,” I tell her.
“Make me come, Rock Star.”
“It’ll be my pleasure, baby. My absolute fucking pleasure.”
Being the dutiful husband that I am, I make my wife come more than once, and then we shower together and I make her come again.
We enjoy a lazy Sunday, reading the papers, answering emails, and I spend a bit of time on a conference call with my sister and brother, discussing the upcoming Triple M charity concert.
G has liaised with Josh from Dig It Promotions, who would be running the event for us. All the staff were now hired. Cam gave us as many of his staff as we needed, free of charge, but we always needed more.
Len had confirmed with the management of every act performing or hosting, as well as all the television companies that would be televising the event. We didn’t have a single slot left to fill. In fact, we were using some A-listers just to present as we just couldn’t fit them into the show.
The event had gone from strength to strength and now raised money the entire year, but the concert was still our biggest fundraiser.
The donations that came in went to the charities that were closest to our hearts. Len, Jimmie, Cam, George, Ash, and myself, all picked charities linked to things that had impacted our lives, and which we thought Maca would be proud to be associated with.
Georgia and Cam were passionate about helping low income families obtain fertility treatments, helping young drug users rehabilitate, and bereavement counselling aimed specifically at sole survivors of accidents or trauma.
Len and Jim had started their own charity that built recording studios in inner city and rural areas, which were available, free of charge, to anyone that wanted to come in and lay down tracks. CC music, mine and Len’s label, had now signed five acts that had made demo’s using these facilities, and it was something that I too had become equally passionate about. We were lucky when we were starting out. My dad believed and invested in us, helping to get our first demo out there.
Ash and I were patrons of a lot of t
he charities the foundation supported, but the closest to our heart was one that ran respite care, provided emergency accommodation, counselling, and anything else that was needed for the children of substance abusers.
I had eventually found out from Ash, the reason she had no contact with her parents, and her story was truly horrifying, and sadly, not uncommon.
It was the night that we’d brought Joe home from the hospital. She stood watching over him as he slept in his Moses basket in our front room. I was enjoying the sight when I realised Ashley’s shoulders were shaking.
“Ash? Baby?” She turned to look at me, tears streaming down her face.
“What if I’m no good at this? What if I turn out to be just like my parents?”
“No, baby, no. You’ll be great—fucking amazing. We’ll learn together. We’ve got this, baby, we’ve got this.”
I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight. When her tears slowed down, I moved us over to the sofa and sat with her in my lap.
She’d still never told me much about her home life. I knew she would when she was ready so I’d left it alone. That night she was ready and I couldn’t believe what she told me.
“My parents weren’t nice people, Marley. My dad’s a junkie, my mum an alcoholic, who’s been on the game my entire life to support both of their addictions. They had my brother serving up for them from the time he was eleven to help bring in more money to feed their own habits. He was jacking up heroin by the time he turned thirteen. He did it to try and forget what he was, what they’d turned him into.” She cried hard and pushed the heels of her hands into her eyes and my heart just broke for her.
“A dealer?” I asked.
She shook her head and cried even harder. “No.” She almost choked as she struggled to get the words out. “They had him working the streets with my mum. He was eleven years old the first time they sold his arse.”
“Oh fuck, Ash, fuck, baby. You never said. Why’d you never tell me?”
Her whole body was shaking from her sobs, and as much as I wanted to hold her, I needed to hold my son. I sat her on the sofa, fetched Joe from where he was sleeping and placed him in Ashley’s arms, then I wrapped them both in mine.
