Memoirs of a Wild Child

by P Lewis, Cassandra

“Hey little dude,” I say, and he smiles, “Have you had fun? Have you? Have you been swimming?” My silly baby voice may sound daft, but the giggles are worth it.

  Cooper and I sit in the armchair, with me pulling silly faces to make him laugh, as Ben passes me a sandwich and continues his conversation with Holly.

  This is it; I think as I look around; this is what happy looks like.

  Ben and I cook together while Holly and Cooper played in the living room, we eat, watch TV for a while and then put the kids to bed.

  “Are they asleep?’ Ben asks as I sit back down on the sofa.

  “Finally! Holly wanted to read as usual.” I sit and lean into Ben, my back against his side.

  “I can’t believe you’re still writing in that.” He gestures towards Vinnie, who is sitting on the coffee table. “It’s been over a year since you started.”

  I hum in acknowledgement and settle back against him, suddenly sleepy. “I know, but it’s been a busy year.”

  “It has, gorgeous.” He kisses the top of my head, and I close my eyes. “What are you going to do with it, once it’s finished?” he asks, and I take a deep breath.

  “I don’t know, keep it, I guess, somewhere these kids will never see it, but where I can look back on it.”

  “Why did you start it, babe?” he asks, quietly, “I mean, why did you feel the need to look back on all of that? Do you miss living that way?” Suddenly awake, I turn and look at Ben; he’s still sitting in a relaxed pose, still open to me, but there’s an odd look in his eyes and tears immediately prick mine.

  “No, never. Don’t ever think that.” I take his hand and bring it to my mouth, kissing the back of his fingers, desperately trying to reassure him. “I did it, because without all of that,” I point at Vinnie, “I would never have all of this.” I gesture around the room with one hand while still holding his hand with the other. “I would never have found my way to you. If I hadn’t been so wild, I never would have had the experiences that made me realise that you have always been there, decent, honest and caring. And I wouldn’t have realised that it was worth taking a shot on us. I’m grateful to all of that stuff, and that’s why I wanted to write it down.” I lean forward and kiss him on the lips. “You’re my world, Benjamin Long. You and those babies, don’t you ever doubt it.” I kiss him again, and he pulls me onto his lap.

  “Prove it,” he says grinning, and I lean in to kiss him again. I’m more than happy to prove it, over and over again.

  ***

  “Happy Birthday, little man.” Jackson picks up Cooper, making him giggle as he holds him up in the air and pulls faces.

  “He’s just been fed, mate; you might regret that.” I hear Ben say, sounding amused and I know he’s secretly hoping Cooper chucks up all over our friend, but Jackson just lowers Cooper down and continues to hold him.

  It’s funny to see Jackson now, so paternal, so caring. He’s an absolute natural with kids, but he was once even more adamant than me that he didn’t want this life, the things that both of us now thank our lucky stars for. Jackson and I are pretty much the male and female versions of each other; for a start we’re both totally hot, tall brunettes. Then, there’s the fact that we were happily slutty for most of our lives, and determined to keep it that way, and now, there’s that fact that our families are everything to us. I really love Jackson, but there have been times that I have wanted to murder him, mostly in the early days, but he’s never been anything but honest and kind to me.

  For some reason, whether it’s because he saw so much of himself in me, or just because I was Rosie’s best friend, he’s always looked out for me. Even giving a father-like warning to Ben not to hurt me when he found out about us. And then there was one night in Thailand. The final stepping-stone that made me realise it was time to change was when Jackson was my knight in perfectly ironed linen, and saved me from God knows what.

  I watch as Rosie takes Cooper from Jackson, and he immediately scoops Holly into his arms, and I know he’ll always be there for her, in the same was he is for me. From the second my waters broke, and I went into labour with the girl, Jackson was there to calm me, to calm Ben and make the situation easier. And when he held her in his arms, just a few hours after he married the love of his life, Uncle Jackson was smitten. I see that same look in his eyes now. He has his own kids, and, of course, his niece, Etta, Rafe and Matthew’s little girl. But there’s a special look that’s reserved just for his Hollypops, and she has one just for him.

  Cooper’s first birthday party has been a fantastic success, we went with an elephant cake in the end, Holly’s choice. All our family and friends made the trip to our house to spend the special day with us. As I sit and finally relax with a glass of wine while Ben puts the kids to bed, I can’t help but smile. I am so very lucky.

  “Well done for today, gorgeous,” Ben says as he flops down next to me on the sofa.

  “Well done yourself,” I reply, smiling. Children’s birthday parties are exhausting.

  “Have you seen the way Jackson looks at Holly?” I ask as I can’t get it out of my head.

  Ben grins, “Yeah, he loves the bones of her, and she does him.”

  I sip my wine and nod, “He’s a good bloke, he’s always been good to me. To think I could have killed him back in the day.” I sip again.

  “We’ve got good people, Pip,” Ben says before taking a swig from his bottle of beer. I hum in agreement, we really have.

  I knew I had that last stepping stone to write about, but I was bushed. Noticing Vinnie on the bedside table as Ben and I climbed into bed, I made a promise to him, telepathically, of course, so that Ben wouldn’t think I was crazy. ‘Tomorrow buddy, we’ll finish it tomorrow’.

  Mine and Ben’s parents’ head back to Buxton this morning after coming round to say goodbye to the babies. Me and Ben may as well have not been there. Since the kids have come along, our parents are no longer interested in us, we’re old hat.

  Ben, Jackson, Matthew and Rafe have all gone for pint or five, they want to discuss plans for our Thailand trip, amongst other things, I imagine. It’s been a while since they were all together for an extended period of time, so they’re taking advantage of the quality bromance time before everyone goes home tomorrow. Rosie has taken Holly and the rest of the kids to the cinema this afternoon. I would have gone too, but Cooper won’t sit through a film in the cinema, not yet. So it’s just me, and the boy, on this wet Sunday afternoon.

  Cooper starts to cry from his playpen, so I dry my hands and not so reluctantly, leave the washing up as I head over to my boy.

  I lean down, and he stands, holding out his arms for me; that never gets old by the way, my babies needing me.

  “What’s the matter, baby?” I ask softly, knowing he’s tired; he had a big day yesterday and woke early this morning to yet more visitors. “Come on my beautiful boy, let’s get you some milk.”

  I take Cooper to the kitchen and pull a bottle from the fridge. After warming it a little in the microwave I make my way to Cooper’s nursery and sit in the rocking chair, cradling him as he starts to drink his milk.

  I look down at him; he’s so big now, my tiny boy is suddenly one, and the year has disappeared in a flash. I know my days of cradling him like this are numbered, he’s already too big really. I understand now how people end up have nineteen babies when they grow so very fast, and they don’t need you as much, it’s heart breaking. I know in my heart that my kids will always need me, in one way or another, but tell that to my ovaries.

  Ben would have another baby tomorrow, but honestly, as much as I love my monkeys, I don’t want any more. It’s hard to think that once Cooper grows up a little more and is walking and talking like his sister, there’ll be no more baby giggles in my house. No more cuddles in the middle of the night when the house is dark and silent, and there’s a peaceful, milk-drunk baby in my arms. But once he’s eighteen, and hopefully at University, Ben and I will still be young enough to enjoy being a couple again. We’ll
always be parents, of course, and we’re not just going to kick our children out once they reach adulthood, but they’ll be able to look after themselves and won’t want to be with us all the time. We’ll be able to book weekends away and holidays and not be too old to fully enjoy them without being incredibly embarrassing or exhausted.

  Cooper stops drinking his milk, and I look at him to see his eyes closed, his mouth open and his bottle resting on his bottom lip. I smile, these are the moments I will miss, and the moments I treasure while I still have them. I carefully move to standing and place Cooper in his cot, covering him with a blanket and turning on the baby monitor before walking out of his safari-themed nursery, and head for my bedroom.

  I sit on the bed and text Ben.

  ‘Cooper is down for a nap finally! I’m shattered so considering doing the same. Hope you’re having fun x’

  I sit on the bed and prop myself with pillows, picking up Vinnie from the bedside table and getting comfortable as my phone alerts me to Ben’s reply.

  ‘Don’t blame you, gorgeous, and yeah, I am. Love you x’

  Short and sweet, I think he’s tipsy. I smile as I put my phone on the bedside table and then open Vinnie.

  I sigh. “This is a big one Vinster.” I say aloud; I’m about to write about the final stepping stone that led me to Ben, the one that convinced me that it was time to change, time to turn over a new leaf.

  Rosie and Jackson had a bit of a rollercoaster relationship in Thailand. Honestly, I just wanted her to have some fun and then cut him loose, worried that she would get too attached and for him it would just be a holiday fling, but she couldn’t help it. Rosie is the commitment type, she’s a hopeless romantic and falls hard, even when she tries her best not to.

  Worried that we would lose the rest of our ‘girl time’ to her time with him, we arranged a girl’s night, no boys allowed. I agreed not to go home with anyone, as long as Jackson stayed away and let us have some time to ourselves.

  We climbed out of the tuk tuk and entered the open fronted bar. At the front there were people lying in hammocks and on sun loungers, it was nighttime, but they didn’t seem to care.

  People were dancing, a lot of people, and the place, which was fairly small, was absolutely packed out. The walls were painted black but had neon paint splattered around, which caught the UV light from the DJ booth. My eyes lit up; we were in for a great night.

  I wanted shots, immediately, so dragged Rosie straight to the bar, we ordered two shots of tequila and a bucket of Thai rum and coke each, then waited impatiently, for them to be poured.

  I felt a shoulder nudge mine and turned to look up and the man next to me. I know I said I didn’t really have a type, but this guy wouldn’t have fitted it if I did.

  On first glance, I suspected he was European, maybe German, or Russian. He was pale, and tall, wearing a shirt and trousers, which just seemed weird on holiday, and in this heat.

  “Hola,” he said, looking over his glasses at me, and I was about to reply when Rosie leant around me,

  “Buenas noches, señor,” she said, smiling wide.

  “Oh,” he looked at her and then me, then her again. “No, sorry I was talking to her.” German, he was definitely German and had clearly exhausted all of his Spanish.

  “Well,” Rosie spoke again, making me laugh, “I’m the Spanish one of the two of us I’m afraid.”

  While Germany tried to process that the tiny green eyed redhead next to me was Spanish and I, the dark haired, dark skinned giant, was not, Rosie and I laughed and enjoyed our first shot of tequila, before walking away, buckets in hand, towards the dance floor.

  I was having so much fun. The great thing about Thailand, especially when you have a world map to conquer, is that there are people there from all over the world, all just looking for a great time.

  Rosie and I danced so much that I had to tie my hair up to stop it from sticking to my neck with sweat. I was easing off on the alcohol and just drinking water as I was so dehydrated.

  Rosie went to get us some more drinks, and I found myself surrounded by men of all nationalities and skin colours, Rosie passed me my drink and laughed,

  “Look, Ro, I have my own dirty Benetton advert,” I called out, causing us both to laugh even more. I saw her get her phone out and obviously text Jackson, but as she looked so happy, I decided not to chastise her this time.

  We danced together and enjoyed a glass of rum and coke as we had taken to alternating between alcohol and water.

  When I saw Jackson arrive, I protested playfully, that he was ruining girls’ night. But secretly, Mr Mexico was seriously hot, and I wanted to take him home, so I was happy for Rosie to change the rules. Germany pulled me back to the dance floor, and I let him. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with me, but seemed harmless enough, if a little ‘touchy feely’. Although I told him in no uncertain terms a few times, to keep his hands to himself.

  I loved seeing Rosie so happy; she had fallen hard and fast for Jackson, and it showed. It worried me a little because he wasn’t the commitment type but watching them kiss and smile and dance together made me happy. It was nice for her to be so free, it had been such a long time.

  While I danced with my band of merry men, I watched them, kissing and dancing, smiling and laughing and I loved it.

  I felt hands on my hips and the unmistakable sensation of an erection pressing against my arse, I turned to see Germany, who had not stopped hassling me all night and pushed away from him.

  “You need to back off,” I said as plainly as I could, he was really starting to piss my off.

  The Greek guy, who I suspected was actually gay and just wanted to dance, spun me so that his back was to the German, and he was in between us. I smiled at him, and he winked, before taking my hands and continuing to dance with me.

  The German walked away, clearly annoyed, but seemingly getting the hint.

  I headed to the bar and ordered a drink. Germany stood next to me at the bar and placed his own order, but didn’t even look in my direction, so I assumed he had got the message.

  I turned to look at Rosie and Jackson; they were dancing happily; Jackson spun Rosie and her wild red hair caught the lights as she laughed, freely. I turned and paid for my drink, before walking back to the dance floor, sucking the cold liquid through the straw without taking a breath, I was so thirsty.

  I danced for a little while longer, when the alcohol seemed to hit me like a high-speed train; out of the blue I was smashed. I tried to get Rosie’s attention, but it was loud, and she was wrapped up in Jackson; I needed air.

  I started to make my way to the front of the bar, and I fell into a table on my way, knocking a bucket to the floor. It splashed onto my feet as I stumbled out of the way. I steadied myself on a pillar as the night air hit my face, and then it all went black.

  “Pippa, can you hear me, honey?” I heard Jackson’s voice, it was loud and made me scrunch my eyes shut. My stomach churned, and I heaved as I felt my body move, I realised I was being pushed onto my side, and then I was sick. I felt like I was stuck in a dream, I knew what was happening, but I wasn’t in control, I couldn’t quite feel it, couldn’t open my eyes, couldn’t stop any of it from happening. “Have you ever seen her like this, Rosie?” Jackson spoke again; it echoed in my ears, and then I head Rosie’s voice.

  “Never, Pippa never drinks more than she can handle.” Tears pricked my eyes, and I tried to open them. I felt a surge of strength and tried to push myself up and then I was floating.

  Cooper’s moans from the baby monitor distract me, but he is soon breathing softly again. I think about that night. How Jackson cared for me, how he’d carried me, and made sure Rosie and I got home safely. I start to write again.

  I don’t know how I got there but the next thing I knew, I was sitting in the lobby of the hotel, throwing up into a waste bin. I was still woozy, not really understanding why I felt so awful. Rosie was next to me with her face in her hands; I tried to talk to her, ask her what wa
s happening, but I didn’t have the energy.

  I heard the sound of a motorbike and Rosie stood up, there were voices, one was Rosie’s, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying; I just wanted to go to sleep. Someone sat next to me, and I opened my eyes, it was Jackson. He held a hand on my forehead and kissed my temple, and then he put an arm around my shoulder, and I rested my head against his, I was so tired.

  They were talking again, but I was drifting, and then there was nothing.

  I woke to Rosie sitting on my bed and stroking my hair from my face; I felt groggy and totally dehydrated. As if she knew, she handed me a bottle of water, and I sat up.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked, concerned, and I was confused.

  “Awful. I didn’t realise I had drunk so much.” I said, before gulping half of the bottle of water.

  “Pip, you didn’t, hun,” she looked at me, and I return her gaze, confused. “That German guy spiked your drink, babe. Jackson and I found you passed out in an alley, luckily before he had a chance to come after you.”

  I felt sick.

  “What?” I questioned, shocked. “Are you sure?” Tears pooled in my lower lids and Rosie took my hands in hers.

  “Yeah, Jackson went back and confronted him. He found,” she paused, “evidence, so he, kicked his arse.”

  I choked on a laugh.

  “Jackson beat up a guy for spiking my drink?” I was disbelieving, I hardly knew Jackson. He hardly knew me other than the slutty best friend of the girl he was shagging. The best friend who can’t sing but does sing when it comes to karaoke, and who had warned him off about three times in just over a week.

  “Yeah,” Rosie looked amused, and a little proud. “He was really angry.” She bit her lip to suppress a laugh, but mine escaped, taking hers with it. It wasn’t funny, not at all, but the emotion of what had happened, and what could have happened, made us hysterical.

  When we stopped laughing, it hit me, I could have been raped. My laughs turned into sobs as Rosie wrapped her arms around me; I’d been giving my body away for years, but he wanted to take it, without my permission. The realisation terrified me, and I suddenly felt ashamed, dirty. I wanted to shower; I needed to feel clean.