by Lesley Jones
“Park your arse; what would you like to drink? I’ve got a couple of Aussie wines in the fridge I need to taste for the new restaurant if you wanna give one of them a go?” he calls out while I watch him open a fridge that’s full of wine.
“I’ll give it a go,” I call back.
The kitchen is all white with a black marble bench top that matches the hearth, I watch him as he puts the wine into a cooler and turns to head toward me with two glasses in his hand, he smiles when he sees that I’m looking at him. “Was you looking at my arse Kitten?”
I shake my head. “I was looking at all of you actually.” He smiles.
“Good girl, honesty is always the best policy you know.”
“I don’t tell lies Cam.”
“No? You don’t give fuck all away either, do you Kitten?” I sigh and shake my head, not sure if I’m ready to go there yet.
“What dya fancy eating? The menu’s over there.” He gestures toward the coffee table. I pick it up and have a look through.
“What do you fancy?” I know what I’ve said before the words leave my mouth but I keep looking at him innocently, waiting for his answer. He sits back into the corner of the sofa, drapes one arm across the back, the other that’s holding his wine glass, he rests on the arm, he’s kicked off his shoes and his right foot is resting on his left knee, he brings his wine glass up to his lips and without taking his eyes from mine he takes a sip.
“What I fancy is you, naked on my bed, legs wide open so that I can see how wet you are. I want your hands tied to my bed head. I want you so turned that when I stand at the end of the bed to look at you, I’ll be able to smell you, I’ll be able to smell how turned on you are, I’ll be able to smell how much you want me to lick, suck and fuck every square inch of you.” He takes another sip of his wine, while I struggle to not jump up and straddle him. “But what I will have is the steak, rare, with a fully loaded jacket potato. What do you fancy Kitten?”
Fucking hell, I’ve forgotten everything that I just read was on the menu. “Salmon,” I reply.
He frowns and takes the menu off me. “There isn’t salmon on the menu.”
“Oh, shit, sorry, I just always have salmon, I just assumed…”
“No, no, don’t be sorry.” He picks up the cordless phone that’s lying on the coffee table and dials. I sip my wine, wondering what he’s doing. “Get Gino… Yes it’s me, get Gino.”
He looks me over. “How’s the wine?”
I look at my glass, and then back at him. “It’s delicious, very clean and crisp, a bit dryer than I usually drink but it’s nice.”
He nods his approval. “Good girl, well done.”
Shit, I didn’t know it was a test, I would’ve swirled it and sniffed and mentioned peaches and grass if that’s what he was after, still, he seems happy enough with my answer.
“Why do we not have salmon on the menu?” he asks whoever is on the other end of the phone, I’m assuming its Gino. Who Gino is, I have no idea. “Well look harder, I want salmon on the menu, in fact I want a couple of fish choices, not just prawns, I don’t know, you’re the fuckin’ chef, do your job, this might be Essex but I want more than prawn cocktail, sirloin steak and black forest gateaux on the menu… No, don’t take all of that off the menu, I said I want more than that, hang on.”
He looks toward me. “How dya like your steak?”
“Medium rare,” I reply.
“Two steaks, one rare, one medium rare, both with jacket spuds fully loaded, spuds, spuds, potatoes, learn some fuckin’ English will ya.” He disconnects the call and throws the phone down on the coffee table.
“Sorry, we’ve only just started doing food, this is just a trial menu, I’m expanding the wine bar into the shop next door, we’ll have a full a la cart restaurant up and running by September and bar food available in the wine bar.”
“That’s great.” I raise my glass to him. “Here’s to Cameron King and his ever expanding kingdom.”
He smiles at me and his eyes sparkle. “I’ll drink to that.”
He clinks his glass against mine. He leans forward and my heart pounds hard against that brick wall it’s encased in. He reaches for the wine bottle and tops up both our glasses with a slight smile on his lips, fucker, he knows I thought he was going to kiss me, I thank him for the wine and turn and angle myself toward him. “How old are you Cam?”
I don’t know why I asked that. I’m curious, I know he must be at least thirty, he’s been married, he almost had a family, I won’t ask about that though, it’s too soon, I’ll let him tell me when he’s ready. “Why are you so concerned about my age? You haven’t told me how old you are.”
“I’m twenty, it’s not a secret.” He spits his wine everywhere and I mean everywhere, coffee table, sofa, carpet, me. “You’re only twenty?”
“Well yeah, didn’t you know that?” He doesn’t look happy, he gets up and goes and gets a tea towel from the kitchen and wipes the sofa and the coffee table and then leaves the room, leaving me sitting there. Fuck, what does that mean? Am I too young for him? How fucking old is he then? He returns with a t-shirt in his hand.
“Sorry about that, throw this on, I’ll put this in the drier.”
He’s standing right in front of me, between the sofa and the coffee table, as I stand up, there are only a couple of inches between us. I pull my sweatshirt over my head and face him in just my bra, he struggles for a split second, then loses the battle and looks down at my chest; he reaches up with his three middle fingers and drags them over my throat and down into my cleavage. My nipples are so hard they are painful, I look down to where his touching me, he cups my right boob and drags his thumb over my nipple, he leans in and sucks on my left, through my bra and I can’t help but throw my head back. “You have a fantastic pair of tits for such a skinny little thing.”
Before I get chance to consider what is the appropriate answer to that, a buzzer sounds and I jump out of my skin and launch myself toward him.
“Bollocks,” he whispers looking down at me, he kisses the top of my head and says, “Let’s get you fed.”
The food is great but I only manage to eat half of what’s on the plate, Cam complains that I haven’t eaten enough, then dives in and finishes it off for me, he opens a second bottle of wine and we go and sit back down on the sofa.
We are sat at the breakfast bar to eat and as I look across the room, I notice a vase of flowers on the dining table. “Oh, thanks for the flowers by the way, they’re beautiful, my Mum had to go out and buy more vases to put them in and my car looks good too, I haven’t looked at it properly but what I did see looks good.”
He smiles at me. “You’re welcome Georgia, I wanted to call to make sure you were doing okay but I was worried about your Dad answering the phone, I didn’t know… I wasn’t sure if you’d said anything to him about us.”
I shook my head. “No, my brothers know, well Bailey and Lennon do, I haven’t said anything to Marley yet.”
His lips curl in the slightest of smiles. “What?”
“I love the way your eyes spark when you talk about your brothers.” I can’t help but smile at the thought of my brothers, I’m so glad Marley and I are on talking terms again, I really do need to arrange to spend a day with him.
“I love my brothers, we’ve always been really close. It’s just,,, it’s just been a shitty few years. Bailey was living with Donna and she wasn’t a big fan of how close we all were and he stopped coming over for dinner but they’ve split up now and he’s back living at the barn with my Mum and Dad in Shenfield. Lennon I see a bit of each other now that he’s not travelling so much, he’s marrying my best friend in June, I’m being bridesmaid for that, they want to start a family straight away so he won’t really be travelling anymore.”
“What does he do?” I can answer this. I can answer this…
“He’s the manager of my brother’s band but he’s getting into the agency side of things now so that he doesn’t have to tour with the ba
nd and Jimmie, his girlfriend, she works for them too so she’s been able to travel with him but if she has a baby, that’s not what either of them want.”
He nods as he listens. “I can’t believe your brothers are called Lennon and Marley, who’s the music fan?”
I laugh as I think about the times I’ve explained our names to people and for some reason I think about sitting on that old Chesterfield sofa in the summer house and explaining to the cutest brown eyed boy I had ever seen, a tear rolls down my cheek and I wipe it away quickly.
Cam doesn’t say a word; he just waits for my answer. “My Dad. My Dad loves music, all music, any music, he encouraged all of us, and my brothers are all good musicians, with great voices. I play guitar and sing, I had piano lessons but I’m not very good at it, but our names, well Bailey’s named after a bloke who makes guitars, my Dad met him at a festival in the sixties and remembered his name. Lennon and Marley, well that’s obvious and me because Georgia on my mind is my Dad’s favourite song and it’s sung by Ray Charles, I’m Georgia Rae.”
I feel embarrassed as I finish the story behind mine and my sibling’s unusual names.
“It’s a beautiful name.” He leans in and tucks my hair behind my ear.
“Thank you,” I reply.
He leans back into the corner of the sofa. “So your other brother, Marley, he’s in a band then?”
For just a split second, my heart stops beating, my blood stops flowing and my brain stops functioning, just for a split second, then I pull myself together. “Yeah, they’re doing… ” I shake my head, I actually have no idea how they’re doing, I know they’re famous but I have no idea how famous because I’ve avoided all information about them for almost four years but I know from what little information I have heard, that they are big. “They’re Carnage; my brother’s band is Carnage.”
His mouth opens but nothing comes out for a few seconds, I think he must have heard of them. “Fuck, fuckin’ hell, your brothers that Marley, shit, I had no idea. My sister loves them, she’s been to see them a few times, I’ve got a couple of their albums here, they’re really good.”
I nod in agreement. “Yeah, they’ve done well, I’ve barely seen Marls these past four years, we, I, I’ve had a few problems and we haven’t really spoke but he came over to my Mum’s and stayed last night, I think we’ve sorted things out now.”
My heart is hammering in my chest; I can’t believe I’m talking about this. “Is he the one that hurt you George, did he buy you the necklace?” He gestures toward my throat and I realise my hand is there, over the letter G at my throat. I drop it down into my lap and shake my head.
“No, no he didn’t, not on purpose, it’s complicated, I just, I’m not ready to go there yet.”
It suddenly occurs to me that he still hasn’t told me how old he is. “How old are you Cam?”
He blows out a deep sigh and looks around the room. “I’m thirty, I had no idea you were only twenty, fuck, no wonder Bailey went mental, I didn’t realise you were only twenty, I had you pegged at about twenty five.”
“Is it a problem then, is my age a problem?” He shakes his head; he suddenly looks very young and very vulnerable as he looks up at me through his lashes.
“Does my age bother you?”
I shake my head. “No,” I say it like it’s the most ridiculous statement ever.
“Will you tell me a bit about your family now?” I ask.
“What dya wanna know?”
I think about this for a second. “What’s your sister’s name?”
He folds his arms across his chest and rests his wine glass in the crook; I’m not sure if this is a defensive stance or if he’s just getting comfortable. “My sister’s name is Tory; my brothers are Robbie and Josh, nothing as unusual as your lot. My Mum’s Scottish so they’re all a bit traditional.”
“I like them, they’re nice names. How old are your brothers?”
“Robbie’s thirty four; Josh is twenty eight and Tory’s twenty one.”
“Yeah, I remember Tory’s birthday, the twenty fourth of September.”
“How’d you know that?” He asks, frowning.
“Because you came in the shop and bought her a shit load of stuff remember? You told me it was her twenty-first on the Saturday.”
“Fuck, you’ve got a good memory.”
“Not really, it’s my birthday too.”
“What is?’ He narrows his eyes as his frown deepens.
“My birthday is the twenty fourth of September, the same as your sister’s.”
“Really?’
“No, I lied; just to make conversation coz you’re boring the fuck out of me.” I hold a serious face for about five seconds. “Of course really you twat.” I laugh. He doesn’t.
“Oh Kitten, you will fuckin pay for that.” Oh shit. He puts his glass down and then takes mine from me; he takes my hand and pulls me along the sofa and between his legs. I lace my fingers across his chest and look up at him. “Are you going to let me fuck you tonight or what? Because I am just about ready to explode here.”
“I thought you were punishing me for calling you a twat.”
“Yeah I am, I will, I just need to know if I’m gonna get a shag tonight first.”
“Well seeing as you asked so nicely, no, no you’re not.”
“What, why?”
I don’t know why, if we’d just gone for it, I probably wouldn’t have been able to stop but because he’s asked and I’m actually thinking straight, I know that I’m not actually ready.
“I’m not ready.”
“Fuck Kitten.” He looks all around the room but not at me. “I need to get you home then.”
Well that hurts. “So just my company isn’t good enough for you, if I won’t shag you, you don’t want me around. Cheers Cam, that’s nice to know and there I was, thinking that there’s more to you than the flash cunt that’s always on display downstairs.”
I go to stand up but he grabs at the top of both my arms and it hurts. We are both kneeling, facing each other, in the middle of his sofa. “I need to get you home because I don’t want to be up on a rape charge.”
I shrink back at his words, rape charges and every horrible memory those words conjure are forced to the front of my mind.
“Let me go,” I say through gritted teeth.
“What the fuck is wrong with you Georgia?” he shouts at me. “You’re sitting there all fuckin’ sexy in my t-shirt.” He scratches at his head. “I don’t know where I fuckin am with ya, I’m a thirty year old bloke, I don’t play games Darlin’, if you want someone to mess with, then fuck off back to the dickless wonder you swanned in the bar with last week and stay the fuck away from me.”
I twist away from him while he has one hand still in his hair but he grabs at me again, pinning both my arms to my sides.
“Let me fuckin go Cam, let me go!” I screech at him as I throw myself about trying to get away from him.
“What dya want, what do you fuckin want from me?” He pulls me to him and looks down into my face.
He looks so angry, nobody has ever grabbed me, pulled me about like that or shouted at me in my life; I was a princess, I was spoilt and pampered, I had grown up getting basically, anything and everything I wanted in life, except for Sean that is and the only way I knew how to react to being shouted at in this way was to spit and snarl my way out of it. I tried to head butt him first, he reared back and looked at me, eyes wide with shock at my actions. “What the fuck are you doing?”
His voice was all high pitched and incredulous and as I realised he was trying not to laugh at my futile attempts to escape his grip and to inflict pain on him, the more determined I became. I threw myself backwards and he couldn’t help but fall on top of me, I bring my knee up and knee him in the balls, I’m thrashing from side to side and screaming at him, I must make contact as he doubles up and rolls onto his side, giving me room to roll out from underneath him, I start to head toward the door but he’s too fast and grabs me
again.
“Stop.” He shakes me by my shoulders. “Fuckin’ stop, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
I slap him around the face and almost faint in shock when he slaps me back, it’s not hard, it’s barely a tap, but I’ve never been slapped in my life.
“Is that what you want?’ he asks. “Is that what you like? Is that what you’re into?”
He pushes me slightly in the chest and I take a step back. “Give me something, give me something for fuck’s sake Kitten, you totally baffle me, we were having a lovely night, one of the best nights in a woman’s company I’ve had in years and then, then you just flip. Who did it? Who fuckin’ broke you? I have to know who broke you before I can start putting you back together again so who, who was it?” he’s shouting and getting in my face and every step I take back, he takes one forward.
“Fuckin’ tell me.” he suddenly roars and I don’t know why, despite his size, his strength and his absolute maleness, I’m not in the least bit afraid of him, all I feel right now is anger, anger and sadness at the fact that the boy I love so much is still fucking up my life so badly.
“Sean!” I scream back at him. “Sean,” I sob as I drop down to my knees. “It’s Sean, it’s all Sean.”
I sob harder, big heaving, out of control sobs; he’s on the floor with me and pulls me into his lap. “Thank fuck.” he says into my hair, he kisses me, my head, my hair, my cheeks, my tears.
“Let it out Kitten, let it all out, it’s not good to keep it all in like that, believe me, I know, just let it out.” And I do, I thought I had cried all the tears I had in me at my Mum’s all week, but apparently not, this is different, I cried alone at my Mum’s, here, I was crying with someone and admitting to that someone, who my tears were for, I was facing up to my demons and not just brushing them aside.
“I love him Cam, I love him so much, and it hurts so bad, I just don’t know if I can live the rest of my life like this.”
He kisses my hair some more. “I know, I know but we’ll make it better, I promise, we’ll make it better.”
