by Lesley Jones
“So, you missed me, did ya, Treacle?”
She nods her head and yawns at the same time.
“We all missed you. Mum’s been sad all week. We watched your wedding video the other night, and she cried all the way through.”
My heart bangs so hard against my chest, it echoes in my ears. Most people don’t see the gentler side of Georgia. They see the smart business woman that runs a successful chain of fashion stores and an even more successful charity. They see a woman that overcame the very public loss of her first baby and then her husband and a second child. Georgia’s public persona is that of a tough-as-nails, smart-mouthed Essex girl. Me, our children, and her family know different. The kids laugh when she cried when Harry scored his first goal and when Kiki was an angel in the school’s Christmas play. They have no clue why she cries when she hears the national anthem sung before a football match or when certain songs come on the radio. They don’t understand why she cries when someone gets voted off X Factor, or why she bursts into tears when I come home with flowers for her, just because.
But I know.
I know Georgia inside out. From the twenty-year-old girl with sad eyes who walked into my wine bar almost thirty years ago, to the stunningly beautiful, mostly vibrant woman she is now, I know her like no other. Every tear, gasp, and sigh. Every curve, bump, and crease. Every twitch of her lips and thought that crosses her mind, I know and can read them. We talk without words. I can look at her and know when someone is making her uncomfortable, when she’s had too much to drink and it’s time to go, or when someone’s pissing her off and it’s time to step in. I know all of this because we’re a team, united. There is so much more to her than the public could ever conceive.
“Mum looked so beautiful in her wedding to you. I like that dress better than the one she wore to her other wedding.”
“Me too, Treacle, me too.”
“Hope I’m as beautiful as her when I grow up.” She yawns her way through her sentence. I kiss the top of her head again.
“You already are. Don’t you worry about that. You, your sister, and your mum are the best looking girls in the world.”
She nods her head, her eyes now closed.
“Ollie Chalmers said that me and Lu were the fittest twins he’s ever known, but it’s not surprising coz our mum’s a MILF.”
What the actual fuck?
I’m paying six grand a term, per kid, to send my girls to a school where they get told shit like this? I’ll be on the phone with that stuck-up headmistress first thing Monday morning, and who the fuck is this Ollie kid anyway?
“How old is this Ollie kid, Kiks? Do the boys know him?” I choke out because I’ve forgotten to breathe. She doesn’t answer, so I give her a nudge.
“Whaaaat?” she whines.
“This Ollie, how old?”
“Same age as us, fourteen he’s in the same tutor group as George, and they play in the same football team.”
He’s only fourteen, but I still wanna punch the little fucker.
I listen to my daughter’s breathing change as she drifts back to sleep.
“I love you,” she mumbles
I kiss her forehead this time.
“Love you, too.”
I climb from her bed, and as I reach the door, she calls my name.
“Daddy?”
My heart feels like it grows too big for my chest. That shit never gets old. No matter how big of a man I think I am, when my little girl calls me daddy, game over.
“Yes?”
“You looked very handsome in your wedding video … Mum said so, too.”
“Thanks, Kiks,” I tell her with a smile.
CHAPTER 2
Cameron
I make my way downstairs quietly, the sun is coming up and the birds are starting their dawn chorus. I wanna shoot them.
I was a fourteen-year-old boy once, I know exactly how their filthy little minds work. I need to get Harry on board with this, and make sure he tells that little toerag Ollie to stay the fuck away from my girls—all of them. What the fuck is he doing eyeing up my wife anyway? He’s fourteen for fuck’s sake.
I take a few deep breaths and stick my head inside Georgia’s office door. Her earphones are off and she’s curled on her side facing me now, obviously asleep. Her mouth is slightly open, and I’m instantly hard as I watch her.
I go to the kitchen and make us both a coffee. Taking them back to her office, I put them down on her desk next to the two empty bottles of wine I failed to spot earlier. No wonder she was such a mess. Georgia, wine, and memories of Sean are really not a good combination and nearly always end in tears.
There’s a stack of letters sitting next to the empty bottles, and I pick the top one up. It’s addressed to Georgia when she still lived at home with her parents. I lean over her to make sure she’s still sleeping and slide the letter from the envelope.
Oh shut up, like you wouldn’t have a look!
It’s handwritten on a plain piece of paper.
-
Let Me Know...
Should I wait for you?
Or let you go
Shall I hang on to our love
I need to know.
My heart, it's yours
For as long as we live
It beats fierce and strong
And has so much to give.
Just let me know…
-
Fuck!
I know what this is. Georgia has had a crate of stuff sitting out in the garage for years. It had all of Sean’s stuff in there, including a load of shit she never looked at. Letters, tapes, diaries. She has always put off going through it, obviously, she’s decided now would be a good time to make a start.
I slide the first note back into its envelope and pull out another.
-
I fucked someone else tonight, George. I hope you’re happy with that! Hope you’re pleased, hope it’s what you wanted, coz I just feel like shit. It didn’t have to be like this. It shouldn’t have been her who woke up in my bed this morning, it should’ve been you. It should be you every morning, but you chose this. You chose to behave like a spoiled selfish little cunt, and now I’ve gone and done exactly what you accused me of in the beginning. Well fuck you, Georgia. Fuck you!
-
Shit! It should make me happy that Archangel Sean wasn’t quite as perfect as Georgia seems to think he was, but this will break her heart. No wonder she was such a mess earlier.
I go into my study and get a throw from the wingback chair I have in there. She’s gonna have a stiff neck and a sore head when she wakes up, so the least I can do is keep her warm.
I drink my coffee, as well as the one I made her, and decide to keep reading. I don’t care if she’s gonna be pissed off with me later. If she’s been through all of these and they’ve upset her, then I wanna know about it. If they’re full of poncy words and bullshit, I wanna know that too. What can I say, I’m a nosey fucker, and if it involves my wife, I wanna know it all.
I slide down on the floor next to Georgia and start with the pile that’s next to her.
-
So what now, G? I just give up? You think by ignoring my calls and letters that's it, the end of us? Coz that will never fucking happen. Ignore me all you like, marry someone else, have ten kids with him, it won't matter. There'll still be an us. There’ll always be an us.
That looks like anus haha and don't marry anyone else. Fuck, don't even go out with anyone else, and definitely don't have any kids. Beau and Lilly remember? Our babies, G. The babies we're gonna have. We still have to think of a name for our other boy. I was thinking about it the other night, what about Frankie? I think your dad would like that. Beau, Frankie, and Lilly, our kids. Mine and yours.
Fuck, I miss you so fucking much. I don't know what I can say to fix this. I fucked up, I know I fucked up massively, but this is us, we’re talking about, Sean and Georgia. Georgia and Sean. We’re meant to be, baby, wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, th
ere’ll always be an us, and you know it. You fucking know it, G.
Why won’t you just talk to me?
Ok, don’t even do that, just answer the phone when I call and let me talk, just let me tell you how much I love and miss you. Your smell, your touch, your soft skin, and those beautiful blue eyes. Your mouthy Essex attitude, even your temper, G, and your tits—fuck, I miss your tits, your perfect, perfect tits. Every part of me aches. My heart, my soul, and my bones, they all ache for you, baby, so much, so, so much.
I have to go now. We’re in Birmingham, Jimmie’s here with Len. You should be here with me, and you fucking know it.
I love you, I miss you. I’ll call you tomorrow morning around 8 after your dad’s gone. Pick up the phone, G. Please, please pick up the phone.
I love you Gia, with everything I am, I love and miss you. Just pick up the phone and talk to me baby. Let me put this right.
Sean xxx
Georgia, Georgia give us a kiss
Georgia, Georgia show us ya tits.
That’s all I’ve got.
Just wanted ya to know that I’m thinking of you.
Love and miss you baby xxx
Georgia, today has been really hard. We’re in our new shared house near the studios in West London. We had a day off today, and everyone has gone out, except me. I had nowhere to go. This is where I live, but it’s not my home. It’s the place where I eat and sleep. Where I shower and wash my clothes. It’s where I exist, barely, but it’s not my home. My only home is wherever you are. Home is you, the taste of you, the feel of you, the smell of you.
Today, I spent alone. Today, like all the others lately, I spent homeless, because without you, that’s what I’ll always be.
I love you, Gia. You know that, it never changes, not even when I think I hate you. Even then, I know deep, deep down that it’s just another way of loving you. I hope you read this one day. I hope you read this and finally understand, finally get it. Xxx
I wrote a new song, but your brothers, yeah, two of them and your best friend weren’t impressed, and I got a punch in the mouth off all of them. I might just make it anyway. I might just go solo on this one and put it out there by myself, what d’ya reckon?
What should I call it? I was thinking “A Song for G”, or how about “Fuck You, Baby”. How’s that sound?
You called this on.
Now you've got your way.
Time for me to move along.
Tomorrow's another day.
Fuck you, baby, I did my best
Fuck you, baby, now I'll go fuck the rest.
I tried to reason, to make you see sense
But you walked away ... No recompense.
You gave me no chance to talk or say my sad goodbyes
You ignored my pleas, ignored my cries.
So fuck you, baby, now I'll go fuck the rest.
I fucked you baby … You weren’t the best.
When you meet another, which I'm sure you will.
Just remember me and the way I can make you feel.
When he slides inside you, and when he holds you tight,
I hope you think and dream of me, all through the night.
When he pushes deep and looks into your cold hard eyes.
When he says and does those things only I know you like,
Don't you forget that I was your first, the first to hear
your moans, the first to make you sighs.
So, fuck you, baby. My time here is done.
I'm through crying, time for me to have some fun.
Fuck you, baby, maybe see you around some time.
Then you can join all the others and wait your turn in line.
You like that? Hurts doesn’t it? Well good. At least if it hurts, it means you still have a heart. If it weren’t for this permanent pain, this continuous ache I have in my chest, I’d be numb. I’ve got nothing else right now, G. I’m done.
My heart races as I read. I switch from totally understanding the bloke’s heartbreak to wanting to smash his face in. Then I remember that he’s dead and getting pissed off with him is pointless. I don’t understand why she’s putting herself through this. It’s been fifteen years, why would she want to drag up all of these memories now?
I look down and watch Georgia sleep. As much as I like to think I know what makes her tick, I’d still love to get inside her head sometimes. Like now, just so I can understand the thought process that led to her believing this could be a good idea.
My eyes are starting to sting, and I decided to wrap myself around my wife and rest them for a little while.
CHAPTER 3
Cameron
After what feels like just five minutes of sleep, I wake with a start. I open my eyes and see Georgia lying in the recovery position next to me. Her side pressed into mine as I lie on my back. I hear quiet footsteps walk past the study and on into the kitchen. I assume it’s one of the kids but get up anyway to check.
At some stage, I must have taken off my jeans, as I’m now just wearing a T-shirt and a pair of boxers. Georgia stirs and so does my dick as I hear her little sigh. I adjust what’s happening inside my Calvin’s, collect the glass things Georgia insists we drink our coffee out of, and head up the hallway.
Tallulah is standing at the coffee machine with her head resting on her arms, which are resting on the kitchen worktop. Her long dark hair, which is the exact same shade as her mother’s hair, is hanging down her back, and she’s watching the hot dark liquid fill her cup.
When the fuck did my daughter start drinking coffee?
Tallulah is probably going to be our problem child. She has a short fuse and a quick wit. She can cut with a glare from her blue eyes or a single word from her sharp tongue. She’s also loyal, possessive, and protective of those she loves. Lu has no fear, and her strong will and defiance have already gotten her into trouble. She takes no shit from anyone—not even her teachers, and I’ve had to go up to the school on more than one occasion. She’s not naughty, per se, just outspoken, fearless, and headstrong. She’s a passionate kid. I don’t wanna sound like I’m making excuses for her, but I don’t want the system to knock her spirit out of her. Despite what life has thrown at Georgia, she still maintains hers to this day. In fact, it’s what I think got her through everything. I want Lu to grow up to be as resilient as her mum. I want that for all of my kids.
The problem at home is that Lu and Georgia are a fucking nightmare when they start going at each other. Their personalities are identical, and when they clash, most of Essex hears about it. Georgia always thinks she knows best, and Tallulah can’t, or won’t, be told she’s wrong. Like I said, she’s a carbon copy of her mother, right down to her striking blue eyes.
That’s the other reason I worry. The girls turned fourteen in February, Georgia was just twenty when I first met her. In six years’ time, they could potentially have men like me sniffing around them. I clench my hand into a fist and push it against my chest where it suddenly feels like I’m having a heart attack.
Lu must catch my movement, because she spins around and her hand flies to her own chest.
“Shit, Daddy. You scared the crap outta me!”
“Language, Syrup,” I say in my best warning voice. That’s the other thing Lu has in common with her mother, her foul mouth. She swears more than her brothers, and I blame that on her mother.
She rolls her eyes and folds her arms across her chest, and I already know what’s coming.
“Don’t call me Syrup.”
Lu hates the nicknames I’ve called the twins since they were babies. She’s always been Syrup, Kiki has always been Treacle.
She walks towards me, wrapping her skinny arms around my chest.
“Sorry for swearing, you made me jump. I thought you weren’t coming home till later.”
“I missed you all and managed to get a flight home last night.” I kiss the top of Lu’s head as I speak. Her hair smells of mint.
“You been nicking your mother’s shampoo aga
in?” Another cause for conflict between Georgia and Lu, they have the same taste in a lot of things. Lu likes to borrow without asking, Georgia throws a fit, and Lu tells her to take a chill pill and be flattered that at her age, her fourteen-year-old even likes her taste. That’s when I generally step in to prevent my wife from throttling our daughter.
I feel her shake her head against my chest. “Nah, Mum treated me to the shampoo and conditioner while you were away. If she’d have just done that in the first place, it would’ve saved a lot of arguments.”
I can’t help but laugh at my daughter’s reasoning. “I hope you also said thank you?”
“Do you think she woulda let me keep it if I hadn’t? You know what Mum’s like with her manners.”
“Manners cost nothing and will get you a long way in life, Lu, believe me.”
She doesn’t reply, but I can hear her brain thinking that one through.
“What you doing up so early anyway?” I ask her.
“I didn’t muck out last night. I need to get over to the stables and get it done.”
“What about Kiks and Mum?”
She shrugs her shoulders and huffs. “No, they did theirs. I went to Lakeside with Harley and Jimmie. We went for pizza after. Mum said it was fine as long as I did the horse stable this morning.”
She steps away from me and pours milk into her coffee cup.
“Fair enough, but take your phone.” I tell her.
“Dad!” She rolls her eyes as she says my name. “You can see the stables from the back patio if you’re that worried.”
This is true. It had made sense to have them rebuilt reasonably close to the house. Georgia has kept a horse ever since we bought and renovated the place, and the girls have had ponies since they could walk. Kiki still rode with Georgia regularly, but Lu is starting to lose interest, preferring to spend her time at the shopping centre with her mates. I’d threatened to sell Bella, her horse, on more than one occasion, but Lu’s only response was to ask if she got to keep the money, seeing as the horse was a Christmas present and it was only fair!
