The History of Us
Page 27
I can’t believe you’re an agent. I have to be honest and say I still don’t really know what a hair and make-up artist’s agent actually does, but I always knew you’d achieve great things. Like, who writes a bleeding nativity play when they’re fourteen or however old we were? And then Supper with Sam! I LOVED Supper with Sam. The next one (I have forgotten the title. Sorry!) was good too but SwS was just gorgeous! AND I WAS IN IT! AND I DIDN’T HAVE A DRINK IN MY HAND! Sometimes I cling to that memory, there was a time before the madness descended.
Oh God, I have to go. They’re ringing the bell for dinner. It’s very Agatha Christie in here.
I wish it was that exciting.
Big love
K xx
From: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Sent: 16 June 2005
To: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Subject: er . . .
Far be it from me to cast aspersions but you did have a drink in your hand in that scene where they were all getting pissed in the loft, before Sam arrived. But hey, they were fictional characters so don’t give yourself a hard time. (That’s my job.) x
Adam Ferguson
Agent
Kenzi Management
From: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Sent: 16 June 2005
To: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Subject: Oh God . . .
That is hilarious that I’d wiped that scene from my mind. D’you remember Jocelyn got all weird after the show and just got off without so much as a by your leave?
Xx
P.S. What is a by your leave?
From: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Sent: 16 June 2005
To: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Subject: NO FUCKING IDEA LOVE
Xx
P.S. And even though she acted weird. THERE WAS NO NEED TO SHAG HER BLOODY BOYFRIEND KATH!!!!!!!!!!!!!
P.P.S. I’m so vile.
P.P.P.S. Like you care.
Adam Ferguson
Agent
Kenzi Management
From: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Sent: 21 June 2005
To: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Subject: Hello?
Hi K
Not heard from you for a few days, so just wanted to check everything was OK? Let me know anyway.
A x
P.S. I’ve met a man. He’s GORGEOUS. Details on request!
P.P.S. Hands off.
P.P.P.S. That was a joke by the way.
Adam Ferguson
Agent
Kenzi Management
From: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Sent: 23 June 2005
To: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Subject: MEN
SORRY SORRY SORRY for the radio silence. Oh, the shit hit the fan here big time. Apparently I’ve been inappropriate by forging, let’s just say it was a sexual relationship, with another inmate in here. God, Adam, you should see him. His name is Ethan (I know, isn’t that such a cool name? People called Ethan only exist in American youth TV shows, right?) and I thought he was in for drugs, I didn’t bother to ask, but he’s not in my group therapy and because he’s so gorgeous I didn’t like to ask him what he was in for as it felt a bit rude and nosey and would have made me come across like I was obsessed with addictions, which I’m not, and . . . well, who wants to talk about how you fuck things up when you’re flirting with someone? Oh yeah, that’s going to give me the biggest horn . . . ‘And then I nearly died. Had to have my . . .’ fingers a tomato juice suggestively, licks finger – ‘stomach totally pumped . . .’ EXACTLY. Not exactly a turn-on is it? I worried for a bit that he wasn’t as hot as I thought he was because every other fella in here looks like Marty Feldman on smack and like they’ve not washed their hair, or any other part of their anatomy, for months. So to have him walking in all spruced up, like a cut-price Keanu – no wonder he set my pulse racing.
One of the women in here claims to be a folk singer. Her name is Jess and she rocks a lot of knitwear. She’s the sort that’s always plucking away at a guitar every night when the rest of us are shouting at Tracy Barlow on the telly. Anyway, one night she informed us she was going to give a concert in the dining room, and the way the knobheads in here were behaving you’d think that Coldplay themselves had been booked. Anyway, the concert was of course a bit of a bore with her self-penned hits – one was called ‘Sobriety Society’. I was a little bit sick in my mouth. Anyway Ethan kept on looking over at me, so I kept pulling these ‘I’m going to be sick’ faces, which really made him laugh, and I did a sort of ‘hacking at my wrists’ mime, which made a few people tut as I’d forgotten that Jess is always slashing her wrists. Anyway, the next thing I know Ethan is nodding towards the door. Then he gets up and leaves. And so I took my courage in both hands and followed. Next thing I know – God it happened quicker than in a porn film and my washing machine had broken down – we’re making out in the bushes outside. And so we continued for a few days until one of the counsellors found out (Ethan reckons from Jess) and then the shit hit the fan because . . . oh God . . . turns out Ethan is in for sex addiction.
I know. Sex addiction.
And it made me feel a bit weird because I was basically porn come to life for him. And although in some ways that’s flattering, it turns out he wasn’t exactly being exclusive with me. He was also doing self-harmer Helen, cocaine Caitlin and – ye gods – Peter the drinker. Any port and lemon in a storm, basically. And so he was in trouble, and I was in trouble, I’m sure Helen, Caitlin and Peter were too, but God, it was only a couple of shags. According to my counsellor this shows just how addictive my behaviour is, as this is cross-addiction. I give up. I really do. So I have had to have extra sessions (of therapy, not down the pub) and I wasn’t allowed access to my phone or the wifi. When I said this was barbaric they said I needed to do a lot more work on my sense of entitlement. To which I replied, ‘Am I entitled to tell you to fuck off?’
You can imagine how well that went down. Especially here in Colditz for junkies. And so I have been in purdah ever since.
Now. As your life is bound to be much less of a car crash than mine, I demand to know who this new man is.
In the meantime this period of isolation has of course really been making me think and working out where I go from here. And what I’ve been stressing about is finding a job where it doesn’t matter too much that I’ve screwed up. That I’ve lost my job and ended up in some sort of nuthouse. And maybe there is a line of work where not only is this nothing to be ashamed of, but maybe it’s a badge of honour that’ll make you better at the job. Now you used to say to me what a good listener I was, remember? And so, thinking about the treatment I’ve been receiving in here, I’ve been thinking that maybe I will train as a counsellor.
I’m not going to tell any of the therapists or counsellors here that that’s my plan, as it’d give them too much . . . oh, I don’t know, smoke up their arses. They’d either love it – ‘Oh look at me I’m so amazing and have helped you so much that you’re going to train to become like me’ – or they’d hate it. ‘Only I can do this job. I am untouchable. I am GOD.’ So I think it’s best to keep it to myself and keep that zipped.
Be honest with me, Adam. Do you think that’s a completely bonkers idea? It might of course just be that I’ve had too much time on my hands and I’m surrounded by therapists and counsellors at the moment, so it’s the only thing I can think of, etc.
I thought I could find myself a little job in retail and become a Samaritan, to get some experience. At least that way I can be volunteering and not spending any money on courses etc. And I will be able to see if it suits me and if I am suited to it. What do you think?
God, I’m treating you like my bleeding careers advisor!! Sorry!
Hey. I’ve just thoug
ht. We have an open day next week. It’s where friends and family can come and visit. We show them around and show them all the good work we’re doing. If you fancy a day off and a trip to Derbyshire let me know, and I’ll send you a visiting order.
(it’s not really a visiting order)
Lots of love and TELL ME ABOUT THIS MAN
K xxx
From: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Sent: 1 July 2005
To: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Subject: Knackered but happy and GOSSIP
Oh Kath
It was so lovely to see you today, and you are looking so well. What a hoot. The place isn’t half as horrendous as you’d led me to believe, and what views! Amazing. And it was like the years had slipped away. I don’t care if we’re thirty-five. When I see you again I’m fifteen.
But . . . oh GOD. Guess what?!
I got back and there was a message on my voicemail on my landline and it was Jocelyn and she’d somehow found out I was going to visit you and she was absolutely furious. I will see what Leon has to say when I go into work but she was calling me everything under the sun. ‘That bitch fucked Leon and you’re siding with her and . . .’ well, most of it’s not to be repeated in polite company. Oh, and it ended with ‘Never speak to me again. Ever.’ And then she hung up.
It was five years ago, love. Get over it, and yourself.
Hutch up, babe. There needs to be room in that doghouse for me too.
Speak soon
A xx
Adam Ferguson
Agent
Kenzi Management
From: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Sent: 1 July 2005
To: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Subject: SHITE
Oh no, that’s awful. How on earth did she find out?
Xxx
P.S. I thought Jason looked hot in that photo you showed me.
From: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Sent: 1 July 2005
To: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Subject: Re: SHITE
I have a new PA. Remember I told you about her? We have to be nice to her because her dad’s this really big photographer. Well, she has been known to have a big gob and she’s the one who booked the trains and the driver for me, so it can only be her who blabbed. I’ll fucking kill her. xxx
P.S. He totally is!
Adam Ferguson
Agent
Kenzi Management
From: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Sent: 1 July 2005
To: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Subject: WOW
Keep me posted. So sorry. xx
From: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Sent: 2 July 2005
To: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Subject: Leon
Leon was fine with me today, though he took me to one side and said he had no intention of getting dragged into our row. I told him I wasn’t rowing with anyone and he just did a small laugh. Clearly J is making his life hell at the moment. I phoned her at lunchtime hoping to keep the peace but she was having none of it. ‘I thought I told you never to contact me again. Well, I meant it, now fuck off.’ And hung up. God, she’s got some brass neck.
Oh well. I didn’t see her for years. A few more ain’t gonna be a problem.
Poor Leon, having to put up with the likes of that all the time.
Onwards and upwards . . .
xx
Adam Ferguson
Agent
Kenzi Management
From: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Sent: 2 July 2005
To: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Subject: I know . . .
He’d’ve been much better off with me. x
(Did I actually say that out loud?!)
From: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Sent: 2 July 2005
To: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Subject: You’re incorrigible.
xx
Adam Ferguson
Agent
Kenzi Management
From: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Sent: 2 July 2005
To: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Subject: Incorrigible . . .
Like him off the Sound of Music. x
From: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Sent: 3 July 2005
To: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Subject Re: Incorrigible.
DON’T GET KURT WITH ME.
Xx
P.S. Jason has asked me to move in with him. Well he hasn’t, but he has given me a key to his flat SO IT’S AS GOOD AS.
Adam Ferguson
Agent
Kenzi Management
From: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Sent: 4 July 2005
To: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Subject: a KEY?
Fuck me you’ll be doing anal next. x
From: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Sent: 4 July 2005
To: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Subject: KATHLEEEEEN!
You are outrageous. I remember when you were nice. What happened?! X
Adam Ferguson
Agent
Kenzi Management
From: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Sent: 5 July 2005
To: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Subject: Seriously?
I discovered vodka. x
From: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Sent: 7 July 2005
To: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Subject: Call Me.
Call me when you get a minute. I have news. Leon has dumped Jocelyn and kicked her out of his house. And the gossip round the office is that he found out she was (still) working as LISTEN TO THIS – a hooker behind his back!!
She told me not to tell anyone but she did confide in me that she used to be a high-class hooker with some big posh agency and that’s how come she was so loaded. She said Leon was dead understanding about it when they got together but she told me she had knocked it on the head when they got serious.
So according to Leon’s PA he was sent a link to an escorting website and it was her page and she had some sort of false name. So to double-check and catch her out, he booked her using a false name and arranged to meet her in some hotel. Only, when she got to the hotel room he was waiting for her with a load of her stuff, and told her to get to fuck. And she apparently didn’t even apologize, just got all huffy that she wasn’t going to be paid!! Can you believe that?!
Babes, do you need somewhere to live when you get out of there? What are your plans? I was thinking you could use my flat as a base if you fancy, till you get on your feet. I’m going to be round at Jason’s quite a bit so you’d have the place to yourself most of the time. Just a thought anyway. It’s not the biggest flat in the world but it’s nice and is near some shops in Tufnell Park and it’s got a nice big bath! Let me know what you think. I won’t be offended if you don’t fancy it, or of course if you have other plans. I wouldn’t want any rent as it wouldn’t be for too long anyway. Have a think and let me know anyhoo.
xx
Adam Ferguson
Agent
Kenzi Management
From: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Sent: 8 July 2005
To: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Subject: WOW
What did I ever do to deserve a friend like you? That is so SO kind of you Adam. I promise I won’t outstay my welcome. Oh how w
onderful. YIPPEEE!!!
Thanks for everything!
K xx
P.S. I keep re-reading your email determined to discover that all that stuff about Jocelyn was a joke but I realize you’re being completely serious. That is going to take me a while to get my head around. A fucking PROSTITUTE?!?!?!?!?!?!?!
From: Adam Ferguson (adam@kenzimanagement.com)
Sent: 17 July 2005
To: Kathleen O’Hara (kathleenohara1970@hotmail.co.uk)
Subject: Tomorrow
Great to chat just now. Just to reiterate I will be waiting for you at Euston when your train gets in and we can get a cab back to the flat from there.
Let this new chapter of our lives . . . commence!!!!
Love you
A xxx
Adam Ferguson
Agent
Kenzi Management
JOCELYN
London, 2015
At first I didn’t think he’d still be living on Josephine Avenue in Brixton. Not after all these years. Who would move to London to stay with relatives, and still be there fifteen or so years later? But a quick online search told me he was still on the electoral register there, and so that is where I went.
I could have asked my private detective. I could have asked him to track down my online troll, Darius D’Eath, on my behalf; but my gut told me, my instinct told me, I already knew the answer.
I’ll be honest. I had called my private dick with the intention of getting him to find out who was sending me those hideous messages, but when we finally met up for me to set him the assignment, I had bottled out. Instead I found myself telling him about the old Polish man from the cafe, the strange woman who was taking his money. It was a big ask, but could he find out who she was? A few days later he emailed me some pictures of the woman, asking if it was her; a few days after that, he informed me that she was Alfred’s prodigal daughter.
‘You’d be surprised,’ he said. ‘But the answer so often is family.’
And that’s when it crystallized in my mind, this thought that Billy was Darius D’Eath.
I mean, I could, of course, be completely wrong. Who’s to say it’s not Kathleen? Or Adam.