by Lesley Jones
“Tallulah, what you did today was a very bad thing. You must never, ever push anyone into a swimming pool. You shouldn’t actually be pushing people anywhere, but especially not into swimming pools. Your sister could’ve drowned.”
I’m so glad in that moment my kids have all been swimming since they were babies. We have a pool at the house and a lake in the grounds and it had been something I was paranoid about. Because there were four of them, and it was easier, we’d hired an instructor to come to our house twice a week and give them lessons from an early age. They were all now strong swimmers and even knew what to do in an emergency.
“But I did drown, Daddy. I drowneded a lot before the boys and Marls saved me,” Kiki says.
“You didn’t drown, baby. If you had drowned, then you would be an angel in Heaven right now,” I tell her.
“Oh, well the water all came out my nose like I was drowneded,” Kiki adds.
“Nobody drowned, but they could have. Do you understand that, Lulah? What you did was very dangerous. Kiks could’ve drowned and then your brothers could’ve drowned, too, trying to save her.”
Tallulah looks mortified. Her eyes shine with tears and her lips are trembling. I want to pull her into my lap and give her a cuddle, but she needs to understand the dangerous consequences her actions could’ve had.
“What d’ya have to say to your brothers and sister, Lu?” Cam asks her. Her eyes are wide and she looks pleadingly at me to help her out, but I know I have to make her face up to this one, so I keep my look impassive, slightly raising my eyebrows to let her know that I’m waiting for her answer.
“I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “I just pushed you, Kiks, I didn’t know you was gonna fall in the pool, I didn’t want you to be drowneded and then be deaded. I’m sorry.”
“What about your brothers? What’ve you got to say to them?” She can’t resist giving a defiant little huff that doesn’t go unnoticed by me but I keep quiet.
“I’m sorry, brothers,” she says quietly.
“Good girl,” Cam says to her. “Come on, give your sister a cuddle.” Tallulah tilts her head to the side and I know she’s thinking about it. I’m just about to say something when she turns and cuddles her sister, then says, “I love you, Kiks.” She then proceeds to clamber up the bed to kiss Cam and myself. The boys not wanting to miss out, dive in for kisses and cuddles too, which, because they’re boys, ends in a wrestling and tickling session with Cam, all of them turning on me and take turns tickling as Cam holds me down. He then pulls them off me and piles them on top of each other at the end of our bed and we both sit back and watch as they wrestle with each other.
Cam pulls me into his side and kisses my temple. “I love the fuck out of ya, Kitten.”
I smile up at him. “You better, Tiger,” I tell him. He gives his head a small shake as the kids all jump on us, and the room once again erupts in laughter and screaming.
It’s moments like this I will treasure forever. I’ve taken a long and winding road to get to this point in my life. Despite the tragedy and loss I’ve experienced, I still consider myself lucky. I have loved and been loved by two amazing men. There’s not a day goes by I don’t think of Sean, Beau and baby M, and there is a part of my heart that will forever belong to them. There’s also a piece of my heart that will always be broken, irreparable, but I’ve now learnt to live with that. I’ll never get over my loss. What I have done is learn to accept how that loss makes me feel. I have healed to a certain degree and I’ve allowed Cam to help rebuild my broken heart from the bricks that were nothing but a pile of rubble after Sean’s death. I’m not the same person I once was. How could I be? Death and loss changes you, but I accept those changes and I embrace them. They’re part of what makes me who I am, something and someone I never imagined I would or could ever be.
I’m Georgia Rae McCarthy King and this was the story of me, wife and mother of four. I am loved and no longer alone. I’m once again part of an ‘us’ and it’s no longer just me.
Cam
I watch her as she walks towards me, looking more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her. The day so far has been perfect. The sun is shining and everybody seems to be having a good time.
Georgia didn’t want a big fancy church wedding so we decided to do it at our home, instead. The service had been simple. We had written our own vows and chosen our own music. Georgia had surprised me by walking down the aisle to Shania Twain’s “Still the one” and as I stood on the dance floor of the marquee in the grounds of our home, surrounded by the people we loved most in the world, I hoped that my wife would be as happy with my choice of song for our first dance. I like music, but Georgia can’t live without it. When a song comes out she likes, she plays it over and over again until she knows all of the lyrics. She rarely watches telly, but wherever she is and whatever she’s doing, there is always music playing.
We had gone along with her family’s tradition of giving the children music related names, Harry being the exception but I’m sure we can come up with a story as he grows up, just in case he feels left out.
My mum’s favourite band had been The Beatles and her favourite member of the band had been George Harrison, so George had been an easy choice, and luckily it went well with Harry, both of them being proper names, nothing poncie like Georgia’s brothers had, but real men’s names. I’d let Georgia have free range with the girls’ names and I’ve gotta say, I love them.
When Georgia was a little girl, her and Marley’s party piece used to be a rendition of Elton John and Kiki Dee’s “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” and so she had chosen Kiki for our eldest daughter. Her favourite film when she was a kid was Bugsy Malone and she had played Tallulah in her school’s production of the show when she was ten, so that had become her choice for our second daughter. It had seemed such a big name for such a tiny baby, but I was sure she would grow into it.
Daughters, I, we, we have two little girls. We have boys too of course, but they would be easy to raise. I knew where I was with boys, but girls, two of them. I don’t mind admitting, I’m shitting myself. What if they grow up to be as wild as Kitten was when she was younger. What the fuck would I do? What if they came home with a bloke like me? Fuck that. I’d fucking shoot the bloke, blow his fucking head off. I give a small shudder as I think about this.
Today has been the best of my life, alongside the days my children were born. Georgia has made me the happiest man alive by becoming my wife, and my heart is just about to burst with what I’m feeling for her as she walks towards me now. She is the sexiest bride I’ve ever fucking seen, and I can’t wait to get her out of that dress later. The thought of what she has on underneath it is making me hard… Again.
I hadn’t been able to keep my hands off her after the speeches were all done, so I’d dragged her into the stable block and bent her over a bale of hay, fucking her from behind as she stood with her cream lace wedding dress pulled up around her waist, her bare arse in the air, legs spread wide. It was her fault for wearing stockings. Fuck, I love stockings. They just do something to me. They make me feel a little bit out of control, unfuckinghinged. So when she walked down the aisle, looking so pure and innocent, stood next to me, leaned in, whispering in my ear, right in front of the bloke who was about to marry us and her fucking ol’ man still standing next to her, I might add, and said, “I’m wearing stockings under this dress. Just wanted you to know that, Tiger,” I’d almost blown my load right then and there. She’d then kissed her dad on the cheek as he put her hand in mine, turned, and smiled sweetly at the celebrant.
And now my dick is hard again as I think about how her long legs will be wrapped around me later, that and the fact that I have her lacy cream thong I’d taken off her earlier, all rolled up and sitting safely in my pocket. My dick throbs and twitches as I think about the fact that I’m the only one who knows she’s knickerless. I just hope my jacket is hiding my hard on as she reaches me. I take her hand and the master of ceremonies introduces us as Mr. and
Mrs. King.
She wraps her arms around my neck and I pull her hips into mine. Her eyebrows shoot up as I grind my hard on into her lower belly. She shudders. I love her reaction so fucking much. I nearly shoot my bolt right there and then.
“Fuck, wife, what do you do to me, woman?” She smiles at me. Her beautiful blue eyes, once again, are full of life and shining brightly, just as they should be.
I know there is a piece of her heart that will never be mine, and I totally accept that, but I also know without a shadow of a doubt that Kitten loves me. She would always love Sean and I don’t expect anything less, but I know that myself and the kids are her world now, and I will spend every day, every fucking day, loving the fuck out of this woman.
The crowd’s applause quietens and other couples start to join us on the dance floor.
“I absolutely love this song, Tiger. Thank you for putting so much thought into it.” She kisses my neck, just under my ear as I take her hand in one of mine and slid my other down to her arse, pressing her tightly to me as we move to the sound of Savage Garden singing, “Truly Madly Deeply”.
I let out a long, satisfied breath as I sway, with my wife in my arms, to the music. It’s taken us a long time to get here. We have lived the lives of a dozen people, overcome heartache and tragedy of the very worst kind, but somehow, we managed to find our way back to each other. If there were ever two people who’d been put on this earth and were meant to be together, then it was us, and I will never, not for a second, stop appreciating the fact our story could’ve been so very different.
We have both been given a second chance and I intend spending every moment of every day, loving the fuck out of my amazing wife and the beautiful babies we’ve been blessed with. Despite Kitten being a bit of a princess sometimes, well, a lot of the fucking time if I’m honest, but yeah, anyway, I love the fucking bones of the girl. I let her get away with shit, what of it? Despite all of that, her life has been as far removed from a fairy tale as you could possibly get, but now, finally today, I’ve made her not only my wife, Mrs King, but my queen and I plan on giving her the happily ever after she deserves.
THE END
Afterword
If you are affected by any of the issues covered in this book and need to talk, please contact:
Lifeline Australia 131114
The Samaritans UK 08457 90 90 90
The Samaritans USA 1(800) 273-TALK
Marley
Playlist
Listen On Spotify
Marillion—Lavender
Simply Red—Money’s too tight to mention
Eurythmics—There must be an angel
Run DMC/Aerosmith—Walk this way
Van Halen—Why can’t this be love
The Clash—London calling
Right said Fred—I’m too sexy
Blondie—Denis
The Buzzcocks—Ever fallen in love/ orgasm addict
Joni Mitchell—River
The Jam—English Rose/Butterfly collector
Ray Charles—Georgia on my mind
David Essex—Rock on
Transvision Vamp—Baby I don’t care
The pointer sisters—Automatic
Maze. Feat Frankie Beverly—Joy and pain
INXS—Mystify
Creed—With arms open wide
Metallica—Fade to black
Fatboy Slim—Praise you
Eminem. Feat Dido—Stan
Basement Jaxx—Red alert
Moloko—Sing it back
Oasis—Wonderwall
Nirvana—Smells like teen spirit.
Bone Thugs N Harmony—Tha crossroads
Massive Attack—Unfinished sympathy
Armand Van Helden—U don’t know me
Frankie Goes To Hollywood—Relax
Tears For Fears—Everybody want to rule the world
Paul Hardcastle—19
The Rah Band—Clouds across the moon
Gloria Estefan—Don’t wanna lose you
For my brother.
I hope in death, you’ve found the peace that eluded you in life.
I’m sorry that as your big sister I couldn’t save you.
I’ll love you forever but never will I understand why.
Glossary of Terms
The following is a glossary of terms which have been used throughout this book. These euphemisms and slang words form part of the United Kingdom’s spoken word, which is the basis of this book’s writing style.
Please remember, that the words are not misspelled, they are slang terms and are part of the everyday, United Kingdom and Australian lifestyle. This book has been written using UK English.
If you would like further explanation, or to discuss the translation or meaning of a particular word, please do not hesitate to contact the author – contact details have been provided, for your convenience, at the end of this book.
I hope you enjoy a look into the United Kingdom way of life.
Arsed; Can’t be bothered doing something.
Bespoke; Created especially for someone, in the same way that you say custom
Bird; A young woman
Bib/Bibbed; To honk your horn
Bloody; Swearword originating in England, used in the middle of words/phrases to emphasize meaning - be it good, sarcastic or bad
Blower; Telephone
Bog; Toilet
Bogies; A piece of dried mucus discharged from the nose
Bollocking; When one is lectured, criticised or reprimanded
Bollocks; Generally indicates contempt for a certain task, subject or opinion, also used in place of bull shit.
Brass; Prostitute.
Charlie; Cocaine
Divvy; A fool or idiot.
Faffing; To spend time on a non-productive activity; "to waste time".
Fuckeration; The meaning is that whatever you have gotten yourself into, it is one holy fucked up, fuckeration of a mess.
Gaff; House or place.
Gissit; ‘Give Us It’ or just ‘Give It’.
Gobby; Talkative.
Gregory; Cockney rhyming slang: Gregory Peck – neck.
Give us a bell/ I’ll bell ya; Call me/I’ll call you
Hark; Look at you, or listen to you.
Mate; Buddy or a friend.
Motor; Car
Narna; To get very angry or to lose it.
Mildred; Vagina
Fanny; Vagina
Off My Tits; To be VERY much under the influence of a substance. Most commonly used as either an excuse or a conversation starter.
Off License; A shop licensed to sell alcoholic beverages for consumption off the premises.
Plonked; Meaning to put something down, unceremoniously.
Scooby; Clue.
Shag; To have sex, or get your fuck on, to score, get some, hit it, tap it, do it.
Shitfaced; Under the influence of drugs or alcohol.
Skin Up; To make a cannabis cigarette.
Soundo; This is London slang for asleep. It derives from the phrase "sound asleep" thus "soundo".
Stellar; A word used when something is outstanding or immense.
Summit; A lazy way of saying ‘something’
Swanning; Posing or posturing around.
Take/ing the Piss; To take liberties at the expense of others, or to be unreasonable. To mock or make fun of.
Tarted Up; To improve the appearance of something.
Telly; Television.
Tits Up; Something that is no longer functioning or working.
Tuppence Worth; Phrase used when someone has brought all the evidences to support his point of view.
Vest; Tank Top/Singlet
Whaz; Urinate
Whizz; Speed
MARLEY—A CARNAGE NOVEL
From the author of Carnage 1&2, comes this follow up novel. Marley tells the story of Carnage from Marley Layton’s POV. It will give you the missing years.
Marley is a companion novel to Carnage 1&2 and both of those books should
be read first.
‘So, they want me to write a book? They want to know about my band, my life, my loves and my losses. But they have no idea what they’re asking for. If I give them what they want, they’ll get so much more than the sex and drugs and the rock and roll they’re expecting. They’ll get the secrets that I’ve kept for so long, they’ll get an insight into the person I really am, or at least was. They think they know my story, they know nothing.
If I do this, if I write honestly and give them the ugly truth, people will get hurt. People that I love, people that have already suffered in the worst possible ways.
Do I do this, or do I walk away? Taking my secrets to the grave.’
Marley is an adult contemporary romance. It contains content suitable only for grownups with an open mind. There are scenes of group sex which include m/f/m a little bit of f/m/m and even some f/f/f/m/m/f/f/f. There is drinking and drug taking involved. A lot of swearing, some Essex slang and some very high emotion. Please don’t complain after reading this book that you wasn’t warned.
And yes, of course, you’ll need tissues.
Prologue
I wipe the steam from the mirror with the palm of my hand, clearing it enough to see my reflection. I rest my elbows on the granite counter and lean forward, taking in my image. I rake my hand through my hair, then over the stubble on my chin. My eyes are bloodshot from the weed we smoked earlier, the after-effects of which have also left me feeling decidedly depressed.