Carnage

by Lesley Jones

  We’d fallen in love with Australia when Carnage had toured here almost two years ago and we vowed to come back and have a look at the whole country, not just Sydney and Melbourne where the band had played. The people were so friendly, the country and the scenery were stunningly beautiful and vaster than you could ever imagine. Victoria was the smallest state and yet you could fit the whole of Great Britain inside it.

  Sean and I had been away from England and our families for almost a year now, we’d decided to take a year out, leaving the madness of Carnage and the fame that came with it behind us while we travelled, before coming back to England and trying for a baby.

  After Sean had proposed to me, we kept our news secret until after Jimmie and Lennon’s wedding as we didn’t want to take any of the attention away from them or attract any more attention to ourselves. The press intrusion had been relentless, sometimes the stories they printed about us were half-truths, but mostly they were complete fabrication and often very hurtful. We mostly ignored them or had a good laugh over them. We’d been split up, according to the press on an almost weekly basis. Sean had had numerous affairs, quoted as being in places with different women, when he was in fact, at home, or even on a different continent with me. The best story was that the reason we hadn’t had children yet was because our marriage was a sham and Sean was gay; that was the one that we laughed most about and the one that had caused Sean to have the most piss taken out of him amongst the band, my brothers and our friends.

  The real reason we had in fact held off having children, is that we were simply enjoying life too much. We loved travelling; being on tour with the band was hard enough without adding children to the equation. We’d seen this first hand with my brother’s kids.

  Jimmie and Lennon had produced a son within a year of being married, and in keeping with Layton tradition, his name had a musical link. When little Jimmy was born, everyone assumed he was named after his Mum, until his little sister was born eighteen months later and named Paige, then along came Ziggy, named after Ziggy Stardust, not Marley but both worked, then last year Harley was born, named after one of my Dad’s favourite singers Steve Harley.

  Marley and Ash had stayed together, although their relationship was nowhere near as happy and settled as Jim and Len’s. They’d split up and reconciled so many times over the last ten years I’d lost count, although they seemed much happier of late as the band were touring less and the press attention wasn’t as intrusive. They’d never married, but had three children a boy called Joe, after Joe Strummer from The Clash and two girls, Connie after my Mum’s favourite singer Connie Francis and Annie after Annie Lennox. Add to this Tom and Billy’s kids, there were times that there’d been a total of ten children in tow whilst the band toured, most of whom I have to say, behaved better than the band members. Witnessing first-hand the stress of travelling with the kids and the limitations it put on what you could and couldn’t do, the places you could and couldn’t visit. We had just decided to wait, the same as we ended up doing with our wedding, which eventually happened in October of 1999. The band had just ended their American tour and the whole lot of us, all of my family, including my parents, Bailey and his new girlfriend Sam, Billy, Tom and their families, headed down to Florida for a much needed holiday, where we decided on the spur of the moment to get married.

  Everyone we wanted to be there was in the same place at the same time for a change, so, we got in touch with a Justice Of The Peace, got ourselves a licence and were married just as the sun set on St’ Pete’s beach on Saturday the 27th of October. It was a simple service, we wrote our own vows, each of us struggling to get our words out with the emotion of the day bearing down on us. Sean being the lyrical genius out of the two of us had every one in tears in an instant.

  “Georgia Rae, I love ya, I’ve loved ya since the day I saw you hanging upside down on the monkey bars, flashing me your pink knickers, you were eleven years old and you stole my heart from my chest and the breath from my lungs. I only ever feel complete when you're near, you own me Gia, heart, mind, body and soul, completely. I love you like the stars above and I will love you till I die, but these words, all that I tell you today, all that I declare before our friends and family today, they still aren’t enough, because like I’ve told you before, the words haven’t been invented yet to describe what you mean to me, what I feel for you. There’s no one else, there never was, it’s still only ever you and I will spend every minute of every day, loving you, worshiping you and doing my best to make you happy, doing my best to be the Husband you deserve. I love ya Georgia Rae, please be my Wife?”

  He stopped twice to regain his composure, watching Sean cry as he declared his love for me in front of our friends and our family almost floored me, I pointlessly fought so hard not to cry. For me, the most amazing thing was, we hadn’t read or even discuss our vows and was amazed at how we had thought along the same lines, mine sounded like a shortened version of Sean’s, I spoke between sobs.

  “Sean, from that very first day I set eyes on you, I’ve known you were my one true love, you own my heart, my mind, my body and soul and I will love you till I die. I’ll spend each and every day trying to be the Wife you deserve. You make me a better person, and without you I’m lost, incomplete. Please, will you be my Husband because there’s no one else, there never was, it’s still only ever you, I love you Sean McCarthy, please marry me.”

  “What’s up G, what ya thinking?” Sean looks across the table at me; he has the hood of his leather jacket pulled up. He shaved his beautiful hair off when we got here and amazingly, he had hardly been recognised the whole trip. In fact, on one occasion, it was me that was recognised and not him. I ended up signing autographs and having my photo taken with Sean’s fans while he hid in a tourist shop on Sydney’s Circular Quay, but he had let it grow since May now and we had started to garner the odd second glance from passers-by so Sean had taken to either wearing a hat or keeping the hood of his jacket up.

  Sean’s skin is so dark from all of the sun we’ve been exposed to, he almost looks Arabic, the way his hood drapes over his hair, framing his dark skin and eyes, my belly does a few forward rolls as I digest the fact that this stunningly beautiful man, who’s adored, loved and lusted after by millions of both men and women around the world, is in fact, my Husband. And I’m under absolutely no illusion as to how much he loves me. We’ve spent almost a year in near isolation from anyone else, just Sean and Georgia, Georgia and Sean, as it should be and I can’t help but smile.

  “I was thinking about our wedding.” His face lights up.

  “The day or the night?” I shake my head at him, he’s just turned thirty two and still such a boy.

  “Our vows.” He moves his chair closer to mine and puts his arm around me.

  “I meant every one of them,” he says, I give him a broad smile.

  “I know you did and you’ve lived up to each and every one of them.”

  “And so have you, I couldn’t be happier, could you?” I think about it for a few seconds, apparently a few seconds too long, my Husband can read me like a book and now his smile has vanished, his eyebrows pulled together in a look of concern. I have a confession to make and I’m not sure how he’s going to take the news, it’s something we have discussed, but as yet have made no firm decision on.

  “What G, what is it?”

  “I ran out of pills.”

  “Pills, what pills, you got a headache?” I laugh.

  “No, contraceptive pills.” His eyes widen.

  “Ahh shit, right, well we can just get you in to see a doctor here and get you a prescription. I can’t see that it’ll be any hassle, if it is, I’ll make some calls and get some Fed Ex’ed over.”

  “In June,” I add and wait for his reaction, he looks totally confused.

  “What, you don’t need them till June?” I smile at him, I’m as nervous as shit at what I’m about to tell him.

  “I ran out of pills in June, we’ve been having unprotected s
ex since June.” He looks at me blankly for a split second, then his face lights up, his eyes spark with, everything that I hoped to see in them.

  “You wanna make a baby?” Oh God that sounded so sexy that all I can do is nod and smile stupidly. He stands up, throws twenty dollars on the table, grabs my hand and pulls me out to the side of the road as he hails a taxi.

  “What are you doing?” I laugh as I speak.

  “We’re going back to the hotel to pack, it’s time to go home baby, I’m not having you flying long haul with my baby in your belly, it won’t be good for either of you so the quicker we get home, the quicker we can get on with the job of making a mixed up version of you and me.” He opened the door of the taxi and guided me in.

  As soon as we are settled in the back of the cab and on our way back to our hotel, Sean is on his mobile to the private jet company and books us a plane for six that evening.

  Just to make sure that I’m not flying pregnant, he makes the cabbie stop at a chemist on the way to the hotel and buys two pregnancy tests, luckily I need to wee pretty much as soon as we are in our room and we sit on the edge of the bath tub and stare at the little stick I hold in my hands.

  “What if it’s positive, you gonna make me stay here for the next nine months?” He grins his lopsided grin at me.

  “Well first, I would kiss you till your lips were numb, because I would be the happiest man in the world and second, I… I don’t know I’d just carry on being the happiest man in the world.”

  We stare as one line appears on the stick, not pregnant, I feel a little surge of disappointment, so I look at him and shrug. “The pill will take at least six months to clear my system, January, that’s when we’ll get pregnant, but let’s get home and get trying any way.”

  He tilts his head to one side. “Naaa, let’s get trying now.”

  He drags me back to the bedroom and jumps on me, but the look of disappointment on his face didn’t go unnoticed, but I’m not worried, I’ve been on the pill for sixteen years, I’m not expecting to get knocked up yet, besides, I want to see in the new year with a bang. It’s the first time in years neither Jimmie or Ash are pregnant over Christmas and we can actually all have a proper celebration in New York where the band are playing at a special New Year’s Eve concert to see in the year 2000.

  Around thirty long hours later we are back at our home in Hampstead, North West London. I call my Mum, Jimmie and Ash and let them know we are home. We spend the next week hardly leaving our bed, not because we are continuously having sex, although a lot of that does go on, but because we are so jet lagged from the flight and the time difference. Sean runs his business dealings from his phone whilst still in bed, I mostly sleep.

  * * *

  The following weekend is when we were due home and I’d completely forgotten the boys were off to France to play at some sporting event. I really don’t feel like getting on another plane so soon after the trip back from Australia so instead I arrange a girls night out with Ashley and Jimmie, as luck would have it, the boys record label have invitations to a new club opening in Shoreditch.

  We all meet up at the Docklands penthouse, the boys still own it and we all use it at various times after nights out in the city when we need somewhere to crash. It feels like years since we’ve all gotten ready together like this, probably because it is. We take forever as we talk and drink and have a general catch up, we’ve spoken on the phone almost daily since I’ve been back in the country but I haven’t seen them in almost a year and there are a few tears as soon as we set eyes on each other. By the time we finally make it down to the car, where Dave is waiting to drive us, it’s already eleven thirty pm and we’re all well on our way to being legless.

  The club is a warehouse conversion, pretty much like every other building in and around East London but it looks great, the sound system is pumping and the girls are desperate to dance. I did a pregnancy test this morning, just to make sure and as it was negative, I joined my girls in a couple of lines of coke before we left and I’m now feeling the effect and can’t wait to hit the dance floor. The place is full of celebrities, actors, models, footballers, pop stars and the usual bunch of glamour models that always seem to get invites to this type of thing. The waiters and waitresses come around with an endless supply of champagne and there’s a free bar for anything else. While the girls are still on the dance floor, I head to the toilets and on the way back decide to grab us a round of shots. I stand at the bar waiting to be served when a shiver goes through me, before I get the chance to wonder what could have caused it a deep voice says right into my ear.

  “Good evening Kitten, hope you’re well?”

  My stomach hits the floor for a few seconds but then my cocaine enhanced confidence finds its voice and without even looking at him I say, “Tiger, how the fuck are you?”

  “Really Kitten, that’s so unladylike.”

  “Tiger, I think we established many years ago, that I’m no fucking lady.”

  He’s quiet for a few seconds, in which time I finally turn my gaze to him, he looks afuckinmazing, he’s wearing a black suit with satin lapels, a black shirt and a black satin tie. He’s standing so close that I can smell him, he smells delicious, still wearing the same Givenchy aftershave that he always has, it instantly reminds me of my bed at my flat above the shop, and all the things he did to me in it.

  “You look beautiful Georgia, absolutely stunning.”

  “You don’t look so bad yourself Tiger, how ya doing? You look a whole lot better than the last time I saw you, that’s for sure.” I want to reach out and touch his face, run my hands over the beard he has growing there, it really suits him. “I love the beard.”

  He ignores my beard comment. “I owe you an apology and a thank you, regarding the last time you saw me.”

  I shrug and knock back the first of the three shots that have been placed in front of me. “No apology necessary, no thanks required, you would have done the same for me.”

  He nods his head slightly, in a way I remember so well. “I would and more, I would’ve done so much more for you, given the chance.”

  “Don’t Cam, I’m so sorry the way things turned out, the way you found out, please don’t make me feel worse than I’ve done all these years.”

  He puffs his cheeks and blows out a long breath; I feel it over the side of my neck and know in an instant my nipples are painfully erect. I need to get away from him, but before I can, he pulls me into his side; I look up at him, about to ask what the fuck he’s doing when a camera flashes in my face.

  “Cam what the fuck are you playing at?” I don’t wait for his answer, I just turn and head back over to where I left the girls dancing, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing waitress as I go. I’ve drunk it all down by the time I reach the dance floor, and I spend the next hour knocking back more champagne and dancing.

  While I dance my mind drifts and I think about the life Sean and I have lead over the past ten years. We’ve been so lucky, we are lucky to have found our way back to each other; we’re happy, content and still so in love. I hate being apart from him for any length of time; especially when he travels overseas and I don’t go with him. Mobile phones have made things easier, but despite talking to him sometimes five times a day, I still miss him. That’s why usually I go with him, but I just didn’t fancy the flight this weekend and he will only be away for one night. It’s a small sacrifice for the lifestyle the band’s success has given us, not just the money and all the materialistic things it can buy but the doors it opens for you, the places we have been able to visit, and the people we have met. We’ve been to award ceremonies and sat at a table with Jagger and Richards, we’ve been to film premiers and been in the same room as De Niro. I had slow danced with the British Prime Minister at a charity event and then spent an hour talking about music to Nelson Mandela, who had the spark and wit of a thirteen year old boy and who to this day, remains my ultimate human being. Sean and I have appeared on magazine covers both togeth
er and apart, we’ve been interviewed about our lives and there has even been rumours that we’ll soon be approached to not only write our autobiographies but to contribute to a film that’s apparently going to be made, loosely based on our lives. Why people are so interested in me, I have no idea. Sean I can understand, but I’m just his Wife. I’ve done some work over the last ten years, mainly for various charities, but other than that, I’ve just been at Sean’s side and I have loved every minute, I don’t need more.

  Despite all of these great and wonderful things, its nights like tonight that I’ve really missed, just a plain old simple night out with the girls, as plain and simple as it can be when the wives of one of the world’s biggest bands embark on a night out. Dave drove us here and is lingering at the bar, just to make sure we are okay. He has just come over and advised us that as a lot of the celebs are now leaving, the doors will be opened up to the general public and perhaps it would be best if we went upstairs to the VIP area, where we won’t be harassed. The weird thing is, I still consider myself part of the general public, I still get tongue tied when I speak to one of my idols, I nearly wet myself when I met Weller for the first time. Sean and Marley have a picture of me staring at him in wonder as he speaks to Lennon about something or another, I can’t remember. I’ve never fancied the bloke, it’s just that his music is something that I grew up listening to and I’ve always thought that he remains to this day, one of the greatest song writers England has ever produced.

  I’m snapped out of my thoughts by a camera going off in my face.

  “Fuck this,” Ashley says. “Dave’s right, let’s go upstairs.”