by Lesley Jones
I shuddered, and just for a few seconds, I felt guilty for thinking ill of the dead.
Then I spat on the ashes that remained in the sink.
“Fucker,” was only word I could think of saying as I wiped my chin.
“Unbreak My Heart” by Toni Braxton is playing over my office sound system, and I have to smile at the way every song on my playlist—no matter the era or genre seems to be relevant to my life, whether this is divine intervention or pure coincidence, I have no clue.
“Did you talk to Cam about getting a bit of tox in your chops?” Ashley asks me, while sliding across my beanbag and putting her head in my lap.
I move the pile of letters that had been sitting there before answering.
“I did.”
“Blatant no?” Ash asks as I stare down at her.
“Not a blatant no. He asked me to wait until I’m fifty.”
“What, why?” Jimmie looks up from the letter she is reading.
I shrug my shoulders. “He reckons I don’t need it yet. He’s worried it’ll change the way I look and I won’t be happy with the results.”
“But just a little preventative won’t hurt. He won’t even notice.” This from Ash.
“I’m not fussed; I can wait until I’m fifty. It’s no biggie. Anyway, we’ve done a deal.”
Ash smiles up at me and wiggles her eyebrows. “Oh yeah, what kind of deal?”
“You finally gonna let him have anal if you can have Botox, G,” Jimmie asks with a grin all over her face.
“No. I’m bloody will not. Ladies, his King Dick has ruined my Mildred. I’m not letting it ruin my arse as well.”
“Oh, come on, George, you’ve never even squeezed …” Ash trails off, but I’ve already worked out what she was about to say.
“No, I haven’t ever squeezed babies out my vag, Ash, but I have had six-foot-five, and two hundred thirty pounds of pure male pounding a nine and a half inch dick into me for quite some time now, so no, my mildred is not as tight as it used to be, and no, that will not be happening to my arse. Can you imagine? It’d end up all lose and I’d be farting every time I bend over.”
“Meeehhh, what’s a few arse farts between husband and wife? It’s the fanny farts that crack Marley up.”
I spit my wine, barely missing Ashley’s face.
“Oh my god, Ash. It’s happened to me before, I just about died,” I admit. Glowing crimson at the memory.
“What, you varted? Was it during sex?”
This time I choke on my wine. I have tears rolling down my cheeks caused by both coughing and laughing.
It feels so good to laugh.
I nod my head, because I’m struggling to talk.
“We were in Fuerteventura on holiday and it was hot and sweaty, and I was just really wet. I was mortified, but Cam just laughed.”
“What’s there to be embarrassed about? It’s only air, and it’s their fault any way for pumping it into ya. Marley just laughs and says, ‘What’s your next trick’ or ‘I’ll name that tune in three’.”
“I don’t have that problem anymore. Got it all taken care of.”
Ash and I share a look and try to straighten our faces before Ash sits upright and we both look at Jim.
“Wha’d’ya mean, ‘you’ve had it taken care of’?” Ash asks before I can.
Jimmie shrugs her shoulders.
“That little cruise Len and I took in February? We didn’t go on a cruise. We went over to the States, and I had a bit of reconstruction done.”
“On your Mildred? Why?” I ask in disbelief.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell us? I would’ve come and had it done with ya.” Ash sounds genuinely put out.
“Did it hurt?” we both ask at the same time.
“Why? Because my poor little vag has had to squeeze out four Layton and one King head. Five babies, ladies. Those kind of numbers don’t leave things looking too pretty down there. I didn’t tell ya coz, well, you know. It’s a bit embarrassing. It’s all right you girls knowing but I didn’t want Cam and Marley knowing that I had a baggy fanny and could vart the national anthem.”
Ash and I get the giggles again. I lean forward and pull the wine from the ice bucket sitting on the floor between us. I share the last of its contents around.
“And I wouldn’t say it hurt. It was just uncomfortable for a few weeks until the stitches dissolved.”
“Was it worth it?” I ask, genuinely interested.
“Absolutely,” Jim replies without hesitation. “I now have a designer vagina. The Gucci of Coochies.”
“The Versace of Vagies,” Ash adds.
“The Louboutin of Labia,” I gasp out. Fighting for breath as we all laugh hysterically.
“The Prada of Pussies,” Jimmie cackles.
“The Burberry of Beavers,” I add.
“It comes with a matching brolly and a trench coat for when things get too wet.” I worry that Jimmie is gonna throw up as she laughs and talks at the same time.
“The Mimco of Minges.”
“The Vuitton of Vulva.”
“No, gag, hate that word,” I gasp out at Ashley’s last suggestion.
“What, Mimco?” she asks.
The noises we’re making don’t even sound human as we laugh and gasp for breath. I snort, which makes the other two laugh harder.
“The Saint Laurent of Snatches.” I don’t even know who says that last one, the voice sounds so strangled and I’m blinded by tears.
“The Cavalli of Cunts.” I just know that’s Ash.
We all lie back and gasp for air, the giggles and laughter still randomly breaking out.
“Oh my days, I needed that laugh,” I say to no one in particular.
I sit up straight, forcing Ash to get her head out of my lap, where she’s once again resting it, and take a sip of my wine.
“So come on, spill, Georgia Rae. What the fuck was going on when I got here earlier?”
I knew Jimmie wouldn’t let it drop. What I don’t know is how she managed to fill Ash in on my “moment” already.
“Yeah, what’s going on, Slutster? I’ve revealed my varting abilities, Jim’s revealed all about her designer vagina, now you need to spill the deets about your meltdown. What the fuck happened?”
Jimmie stands up. “Hang on, we need more wine for this.” She heads off to the fridge while I retrieve the letter from my desk.
Once we’re topped up and I’ve settled the girls side by side so they can read at the same time, I pass them the two sheets of paper.
They each take a sip of their wine and start to read.
Ashley looks up at me a couple of times. Jimmie’s hand goes to her mouth, drops, and then goes back a total of three times.
“Wow,” Jimmie states as she finishes.
“Fuck!” Is all Ash has to offer.
We all look at each other, shaking our heads.
“It’s like, I dunno. It’s almost like he had a premonition, but at the same time, he seemed convinced he wasn’t going anywhere,” Jimmie says.
“Yeah, but this is Sean. He’d do anything to protect and not worry me. If he had a feeling that something was gonna happen, he’d never have let me know.”
“How’d you feel, George, after reading that, how’d ya feel?”
I move from where I was leaning against my desk and sit back down next to the girls.
“I really don’t know, Jim. I had that crate shipped to Australia, but the time wasn’t right, so I just packed it all up and shipped it back without reading them, well except one I think.”
We’re all quiet for a few long moments. Jimmie and Ash obviously trying to digest Sean’s words the same way I had …was still trying to in fact.
“George, if I ask you something, will you be totally honest with me.”
My mouth fills with saliva, the way it does if I’m about to vomit, as I nod my head at Jim’s question.
“Of course, go for it.”
Jim stands and takes up the spot I was
in earlier and leans her arse against my desk.
Ashley puts her head back in my lap and takes a hold of the hand not containing my wine glass.
“Did anything ever go on between you and Cam, once you were back with Mac?”
Despite having to swallow hard to get rid of the excess fluid in my mouth, it now feels incredibly dry. I take a long draw from my glass, look down at Ash, and then across to Jim.
I know I can tell these girls anything. They’ve loved and supported me through the worst of times and celebrated with me during the best. And they have never ever judged. This is the only thing I have ever kept secret from them. Admitting to myself what happened between me and Cam is harder than saying it out loud.
I nod my head slowly, and a very lost and lonely, stray tear makes its way down my cheek.
Ash pulls her hand from mine and reaches up and brushes it away.
“Don’t cry, George, it was all a very long time ago. You don’t have to tell us if you don’t wanna.”
I let out a loud sob. Despite the release, my jaw trembles when I try to speak.
“It was the night I kicked the shit out of Haley White.”
Jimmies eyebrows raise up towards her hairline. Her eyes dart around the room, and I can almost hear her brain tick as she recalls that night.
“What? When? We all stayed at the loft that night, you came home with us.”
“His office,” Ash says from my lap.
“We left, he asked you to stay. You fucked him in his office.”
I nod my head slowly. “That’s exactly what happened.”
“Fucking hell, George.” Jimmie says before finishing the contents of her wine glass.
“It was just that one time. We never did it again, not even in Australia when we spent the night in the hotel room.”
I was suddenly too hot and felt shaky.
“Fuck, I thought you and Maca had an epic love story, but you and Cam, that’s just … I don’t even know what to say, George. You’re like, magnets or something. Parts of a puzzle that just have to be together,” Ashley whispers quietly.
“And Maca’s letter just makes it all even more … I dunno. What’s the right word? Surreal?” Jimmie asks.
I press my fingertips into my forehead and squeeze my eyes shut for a few seconds.
“I’ve no clue. I’m at a loss for words really.”
“Me too,” says Ash, still whispering for some reason.
I pull my head back, draw in my eyebrows, and say at the exact same time as Jim, “Bullshit.”
We all laugh and it breaks the tension a little bit.
“Please don’t ever tell Marley,” I tell Ash, now being totally serious. She shakes her head.
“Hoes Code, babe. I won’t breathe a word.”
I lean forward and kiss her forehead.
“So, after all these revelations, did you find anything that Marley might be able to use?” Jimmie asks. “What are these?” She picks up the pile that I’d mentally labelled “miscellaneous”.
“I don’t know. I set all of the song lyrics and poems over there for Marls to go through, but that was just a pile of stuff that …” I shrug my shoulders, “I don’t know what they are, so I just set them aside.”
Jimmie has a white envelope in her hand. Whatever’s inside is quite bulky as the envelope looks like it’s full.
“Can I?” Jim asks.
“Go for it.”
She sets to opening the envelope carefully.
“Over the desk or against the wall?” Ash asks quietly.
“Why the fuck d’ya keep whispering? There’s no one else here.”
She turns her head to look at Jim, who’s now reading intently.
“I know but it’s just so…” She wriggles her little body. “Sexy and sordid.”
“Cheers,” I tell her. “And FYI, it was neither. Not, I don’t mean it wasn’t sexy and sordid, because it was both of those things. What I mean is, I tried to leave, he slammed the door shut, spun me around, and fucked me against the door.”
“Squeeeeeeeee! It’s like a scene from a book or a film. Fuck, I can just imagine TDH being all alpha and domineering.”
“Oh.”
I look up at Jimmie.
“What?”
Ash asks before I can.
I don't miss the look Jimmie shoots her, and my stomach does a little forward roll, dragging the rest of my internal organs with it.
My eyes scan over what she’s reading. There’s a couple of sheets of paper in one hand and an envelope in the other.
I can't see who it’s addressed to, but I can see that it’s not Sean's writing on the envelope.
“Can I see that please?” In my head I ask calmly, but in reality, I just know my voice shakes.
I don't know why I feel the panic rise from my toes to my chest. Instinct? Some kind of sixth sense? I have no clue, but I’m anxious to the point where I feel sick. My mouth’s dry, and I watch my hand shake as I hold it out for the letter that Jimmie is reading.
“George, I don't think ...”
“Pass me the letter please, Jim.” Absolut
I feel the weight of Ashley's head lift as she sits up, but I keep my eyes on Jimmie. Hers dart to Ash and then back to me. Resignation written all over her face.
I know what’s coming even before she says the word.
“No.”
I nod my head slowly. My heart pumping the blood around my body so hard that a vein in the side of my neck actually aches from the pressure.
“Give me the fucking letter, Jim.”
“George, if she—”
“Ash, I love you dearly, but stay out of this, babe.”
I stand and take the two steps to where Jimmie leans back against my desk.
I don't ask this time, I just slide the two sheets of paper from between her fingers and start to read.
After the first few lines, the words stop making sense. The letters dance around the page, and my head begins to spin.
I close my eyes for a few seconds and wait for the world to right itself. All the while knowing, that after what I'd just read, my world will never really be right again.
-
Sean,
Please, please read this. You won’t take my calls, and we really need to talk.
I can’t believe you’re going back to her. You told me it was over. You made me fall in love with you all over again. You gave me hope that finally, finally you would choose me, but just like last time, you’ve gone back to her. Why? Why her and not me? Is it because she lost the baby? Are you just feeling sorry for her, is that it? You can’t base a marriage on pity, Sean. It should be based on love, trust, and understanding, and you two don’t seem to have any of that for each other. She’s pushed you away for nearly three months, and I haven’t seen you doing much to stop her. She lost a baby. It happens all the time. What about me? What about our baby? You didn’t care about me or that I was left all on my own to make the worst choice a woman ever has to make. Just think, if you hadn’t left me and gone back to her all those years ago, we would have a ten-year-old now. A brown-eyed boy or girl that looked just like you. I suppose its Karma, really. I was forced to give up our child because you left me for her, so I suppose it’s only fair that she loses her baby too. Funny how life works out.
I’d like to say that I wish you both well, but I don’t. You used me ten years ago, and I stupidly let you use me again. I thought this time was different. I was there for you, holding you tight, wiping away your tears, and making you feel better, wanted, loved. Me. Not her.
I’ll give you a week, Sean. A week to see sense and come back to me. A week to see that she’s nothing but a spoilt, selfish, heartless princess who doesn’t care about anyone other than herself. If you don’t get in touch within the week, then please don’t ever get in touch with me again. Don’t contact me. When we work together, just pretend I don’t exist, because for all intents and purposes, you’ll be dead to me.
Carla
I surprise myself with how calm I remain. My heart’s galloping in my chest and my jaw feels so rigid, I struggle to speak.
I pass the letter to Ash with a shaking hand and look to Jim. “Who is she?”
Jimmie licks her lips before answering. “She worked with the producers. She was one of the sound engineers. They had a thing going on for a while, right before you two got back together. I had no clue about anything after that or about a baby.”
I let out a long breath. “You never knew?”
Jimmie looks like I’ve just kicked her puppy. “Georgia, you’re seriously asking me that?”
I feel like the biggest bitch.
“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even asked that.”
“I’ll tell you what I do know, though, and you are not gonna believe this …”
I raise my eyebrows and shrug, urging her to go on.
“That night you got busy with Cam in his office, something went on between Maca and her at that football match they performed at in France.”
“Oh my god, yes. I remember hearing something about that too,” Ash pipes up from beside me.
“What the fuck ladies? And neither of you thought to tell me?”
Ashley shakes her head, and the rapid movement is making my head spin again. “It was nothing bad, George. From what I remember, she made a pass at Maca, Maca told her to fuck off, and then he changed their flights. That’s why the boys came home early. It was months later that I heard about it, and you two were all loved up and pregnant again by then. It was trivial, a couple of the girls from the label gossiping when I was there waiting for Marley to get out of a meeting one afternoon. I think she was there at the meeting and that was why the two office girls were chatting about it.”
I stand and hold out my empty wine glass to Jim, and she tops it up.
I want to throw the glass, as well as the bottle, against the wall. I want to punch something. I want to cry, but I’m not sure why. I don’t even know for sure what, or even if, he did wrong.
“That’s pretty much what I heard,” Jimmie’s voice brings me back to the conversation going on around me. “And like Ash said, by the time I heard anything, you were pregnant. It was a non-story. Plus, I know what you’re like. I didn’t want you getting upset about it or turning up at the studio, ready to knock seven kinds of shit out of the girl.”
