The Story Of Carnage: The Complete Carnage Collection: Books 1-5

by Lesley Jones

  “Mum, you go mad if we mess with your Christmas trees or decorations, so I think you’re lying. You’ve definitely, finally lost the plot if you’re gonna let us anywhere near them.”

  Cam passes me my coffee, but his eyes don’t meet mine as his lips fight a smile. George is staring at the floor, also, it seems, fighting the need to smile. Harry’s full-on grinning while my eyes dart between the three of them.

  Noise travels from the mudroom, and the girls appear, talking and giggling, and then stop dead in their tracks as they take us all in.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Bloody hell, if I hear that one more time today . . .”

  “Mum reckons we can all have the day off and help her put the trees and the decorations up,” Harry informs his sisters.

  “Yeah right,” Tallulah snorts as she talks and laughs at the same time.

  “Stop messing with me, what’s really wrong?” Kiki asks.

  “He’s serious,” George adds. “Tell them, Mum.”

  One pair of blue eyes and four pairs of brown are all on me.

  “He’s serious, I thought it’d be nice to have a family day.”

  “What, and you’re actually gonna let us touch your trees and decorations?” Lu sounds incredulous as she asks.

  I watch Cam roll his top and bottom lips between his teeth, and my hands go to my hips as I start to feel defensive.

  “Are you lot all taking the piss outta me?”

  They all double up and start laughing, and I feel my nose tingle and eyes burn with tears. I wanna find it funny. I know they’re only joking, but today . . . today, I’m just not in the mood to be laughed at.

  “Babe, we’re not taking the piss, we just know full well that there’s no fucking way you’re gonna let any of us near your trees or your decorations.”

  “I’m not that bad.”

  “Yes you are,” they all state while still laughing.

  I am that bad.

  “Well, this year’s different, you can all have a go.”

  “Why? So you can change it all as soon as we go to bed like you used to when we were little?” Lu asks.

  I did use to do that, I didn’t think they’d noticed.

  “Yeah, we knew,” Harry tells me. “We always new.”

  Cam slides his hands around my waist and grins down at me. “Please tell me I’m not a terrible mother.”

  His brown eyes twinkle, and he leans in and kisses my forehead. “You’re not a terrible mother, you just suffer with what the kids call CDO.”

  They all start to laugh again, I don’t.

  “I don’t get it, what’s CDO?” I question.

  “It’s like OCD, but you’ve got it so bad that the letters have been rearranged in alphabetical order so you don’t have a meltdown of Georgia proportions,” Lu informs me.

  I open my mouth a couple of times.

  Fucking cheek. I can’t believe they all talk about me behind my back. I continue to stare up at Cam, whose eyes are watering as he attempts to suppress a laugh.

  “Where’d you hear that saying? How’d you even know what a meltdown of Georgia proportions is?”

  “Coz Nan says it,” George informs me.

  “And Marley and Lennon,” Lu adds.

  “And Grandad says it to Lu whenever she starts throwing a tantrum—”

  “All right, all right. I get it,” I interrupt Harry’s input.

  My kids all straighten and look at me with cautious smiles on their faces.

  “Am I that bad? Would you all rather go to school?”

  I get a chorus of no from everyone, and Cam pulls me into him.

  “Right, well you can all stay home and pass me the decorations, if anyone touches anything, you’ll see first-hand what a meltdown of Georgia proportions is really all about.”

  I end up burning some bacon for breakfast, we all pick at it, and then Cam and the boys go out to the garage and bring in the boxes of tree decorations while I take a shower.

  When I get out, I check my phone. I have messages from Jimmie and Ash.

  Just a heart from each of them.

  No words. Just a simple heart that says so much . . .

  They want me to know that they love me and are thinking of me. They want me to know that if I need them, they’ll come running.

  With wine.

  Vodka, too.

  My girls get me. They’ve always gotten me.

  I stand for a few long moments in my bedroom. I’m dripping wet, with just a towel wrapped around me, and take a moment to bask in the fact that I’m loved.

  I’m not the easiest person to love or even like. I’m aware that I’m selfish, whiney, and self-absorbed. I’ve tried to be better as I’ve gotten older, but traits of thirteen-year-old me still make an appearance every now and then.

  Despite this, Jimmie and Ash have always been there for me, loving me like only family can, and their simple text messages have my chest feeling tight, my throat closing up, my eyes and nose stinging, and my lips trembling.

  I know that at some stage today I’ll get a call from my brother. Just the thought of someone else, someone that I love, feeling anywhere near the depth of loss and grief over Sean’s death that I do causes a physical ache that radiates from my chest and hurts every part of my body.

  Marley calls me on this day every single year without fail. I never answer, but I want this year to be different.

  I go back to my bathroom, clean my teeth and moisturise. I won’t bother with makeup until we’re going out later, by then, I’ll probably be in need of another shower.

  Once I’m dressed, I sit on the edge of my bed and make the call that I should’ve been making every first of December. I’m not the only one that lost so much on that day.

  “Little sister Georgia, what’s goin’ on? You all right?” There’s only a slight pause between each of his questions.

  I can’t get my words out.

  I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea.

  “Marls.” My brother’s name escapes on a shuddered breath.

  “I know, Porge, I know.” I hear him draw in a long inhale and let it out slow and shaky.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Don’t ever be sorry.”

  “You at home?”

  “Yeah, in bed with a bottle of his favourite bourbon. I was trying to get drunk enough to call ya.”

  “I felt brave.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yeah, then I heard your voice, and it all went to shit.” I smile through my tears as my brother chuckles.

  “So, what’s happening? You’re up and functioning, what’s going on there?”

  I let out a weighted sigh. I’ve spoken to Marley before about my dreams and how vivid they are, so I’m not embarrassed to tell him.

  “He was here this morning. Told me its been going on for too long. He said that Cam was a dick for being so fucking perfect and that it was time for me to sort my shit out and stop falling apart on this day every year.”

  “I think he’s right. Cam puts all of us to shame, and you do need to get your shit together, we both do.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Wanna get shit faced with me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “You coming to me or am I coming to you?”

  “I’ve given the kids the day off school . . .” I trail off as I think about why I did that. “I just wanted them around me today, ya know?”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “I promised them a late lunch or early dinner once we’ve put the decorations up—”

  “We’ve?” he interrupts. “As in you and the kids, or you and the people you get to put up your decs?”

  “Well, I did mean the kids and me . . .”

  “George . . .”

  “Yes, I know. They’ve told me all about my CDO.”

  His laughter resonates through the phone and touches every part of me. Hearing that from my brother is exactly what I need right now.<
br />
  “Anyway, you’ve just given me an idea. Squires are coming today to do the outside lights and decorations, I’m gonna ask them if they can do the inside, too. I cooked the kids breakfast, but they’ll probably be starving again by lunchtime—”

  “Wait! What? You cooked the kids breakfast? Are they okay?”

  “Fuck off.”

  “George, seriously, what were you thinking?”

  “I love you dearly, but you are gonna get a kick in the bollocks if you keep on.”

  “Oh and there she is. My bitch of a little sister is back.”

  “I’m not a bitch,” I whine.

  “No, you’re not a bitch, you’re not someone that can cook, either. You need to leave that to Christine and put your family out of their misery.”

  “It’s her day off. She doesn’t come in Friday to Sunday.”

  “Perhaps you should think about renegotiating her contract.”

  “Fuck you.” I smile at his laughter again, even though the jokes on me. I’ve tried to be a good cook; it’s just not a skill I possess.

  I look up and see Cam leaning against the frame of our bedroom door, watching me intently.

  “So, you take the kids for lunch, feed them something edible, and then all come over to ours. I’ll give Lennon a bell and see what they’re up to, sound like a plan?”

  “It does.”

  “Right, well I’ll see you then . . . and George?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for the call. You’ve turned my shitty day right around and even managed to make me laugh. I know that picking up the phone couldn’t have been an easy thing to do. Fuck me, I know I have to get drunk every year before I can do it. I love ya.”

  I don’t respond to that. Instead, I swallow the ball of emotion caused by his words and say, “Love you, too. I’ll text when we’re on our way.”

  I watch as Cam’s eyebrows shoot up and then cast my eyes down at my phone as I end the call. I’ve had a couple more text messages while I was chatting to Marley, and I open them up.

  Bailey: Thinking of you, little sister Georgia. We’ll raise a glass to Maca and your babies today and have a drink with you all at Christmas. Love and miss all of you, from all of us xxx.

  The second is from Nina Reed. Despite her being younger than us by about fifteen years, Jimmie, Ash, and I have become good friends with her, and she’s now one of our trusted inner circle.

  Nina: Thinking of you all on this saddest of anniversaries. With much love from the Reeds xxx.

  I breathe in deeply through my nose and watch Cam as he stalks towards me. Once again, my nose tingles, my throat burns, and unshed tears sting the backs of my eyes.

  I look up into my husband’s ruggedly handsome face as he nudges my legs apart with his knees and then squats down in between them.

  His big hands go to my hips, and he drags me onto his lap and both of us to the floor. I bury my face in the curve of his neck and breathe in deeply. He smells like my entire world.

  “Talk to me,” he orders.

  “I love you so fucking much.”

  “You already told me that this morning.”

  “I know, but I want you to understand just how much.”

  One of his hands cups the back of my head and the other slides around my waist as he holds me tightly against him.

  He flexes his hips.

  “I’m not convinced. I need you to show me.” I smile, and my chest moves against him as I laugh.

  “I showed you last night.”

  “That was ten hours ago. I’m old and forgetful, remember? I need constant reminding.”

  “You’re full of shit.”

  He digs his fingers into my ribs and bites my neck. I squeal, and he licks a path over the teeth marks he’s probably left on my skin.

  He pulls on the messy bun my hairs piled up in so that my face tilts up and my eyes meet his.

  “The kids are downstairs reminiscing as they go through the boxes of Christmas decorations, we’ve got about fifteen minutes before Tallulah gets bored and starts bitching. Show. Me. You. Love. Me.” He punctuates his words with bites, licks, and kisses to my lips, face and neck.

  He’s grinding against me, knowing full well that I won’t be able to resist him.

  I rise onto my knees, leaving a space between us and slide my hand inside his jogging bottoms and boxers.

  His dick is hard and hot as I stroke him from root to tip, rubbing my thumb over his slit each time I get to the top.

  He throws his head back, and I admire what I can see of his throat, but I need more.

  I stop my stroking and grab at the hem of his hoodie, he catches on to what I’m doing and helps me to ease him out of it.

  “Top off, I need to see you, Kitten.”

  He leans back on his palms and watches as I pull my T-shirt over my head. I reach behind me to take off my bra but pause when he orders, “No, leave it on. Lift your tits out, I wanna see them.” My internal muscles tighten, and my thighs grip his hips. I fucking love it when he gets all bossy in the bedroom.

  I look down at my peach coloured La Perla bra and then back up at Cam, who’s still staring at my chest.

  “You do it,” I whisper. He shakes his head.

  “No. You do it. Pull down the lace and play with your nipples for me.”

  “T.” I sigh.

  “Do it, Kitten. Right fucking now.”

  I look down at my boobs. Goose bumps cover my skin, and my nipples are like bullets. I rub each of my palms over them through my bra before pulling down the cups and leaving them exposed.

  “Fuck me, Kitten, you look so fucking beautiful right now. Stroke my cock baby. Grip it tight and stroke.”

  Again, with no hesitation, I do exactly what he says. Clear cum is leaking from the tip of his dick, and my hand slides up and down smoothly.

  His hand goes to the small of my back, he pulls me closer and covers my left nipple with his mouth.

  “Need you. Need you inside me.”

  “I know, baby, I know.”

  Without another word, Cam flips me onto my back, pulls off my leggings, and buries himself exactly where I need him.

  We groan out our pleasure in unison. He slides his hands under my arse cheeks, tilts my hips up, and drives deeper.

  I hook my legs around his thighs and dig my nails into his arse cheeks, pulling him into me harder.

  “Fuck, I love when you do that,” he pants.

  “I want more.”

  “I know, but I love it when you show me how much.”

  We fuck.

  It isn’t lovemaking. We did that last night.

  This is fucking.

  This is my perfect husband fucking the sadness out of his not so perfect wife.

  He knows exactly what I need, and he’s delivered it with perfect timing.

  He fucks me to the point of distraction. Completely senseless. He fucks me until I forget my name, the date, and the horrible events that changed my life seventeen long years ago.

  Chapter Three

  After another quick shower, I arrive downstairs to find that Harry and George have abandoned the decorations that are spread all over the hallway and the girls are sitting on the floor going through the very last box.

  Tallulah is wearing a headband with a flashing star on top, and Kiki has on a Santa’s Little Helper pixie-style hat with red tracer lights racing through it.

  They’re discussing a couple of Tinker Bell tree decorations we bought for them in Florida one year. They’re so deep in conversation, recalling the holiday where Lu pushed Kiks in the pool over something or another, that I manage to take a couple of pictures of them on my phone without them spotting me.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding—”

  “Harry!” I shout.

  “Sorry, but this ref needs glasses. No way was that offside,” he calls out from the games room where he and George are on the PlayStation.

  Every year, I promise to get a swear jar in time for the ne
w FIFA game to come out, and every year I forget.

  The level of swearing they reach would give my mother a coronary if she were to hear it.

  “Okay, kids, change of plan. We’re gonna go to Lakeside, do a bit of shopping, grab lunch at wherever you choose, and then go to Ash and Marley’s.”

  “What about the decorations?” Kiki looks up from her spot on the floor.

  “Dad’s on the phone to Squires now, he’s asking if they can do the inside as well as the outside decorations. I’ll just add our personal bits and pieces over the weekend.”

  Lu and Kiks both stare up at me blankly, as if I’ve just spoken to them in Hebrew and they’ve no comprehension of what I’ve said.

  Harry and George poke their heads around the game room’s door and look at me in much the same way.

  “What?” I question, wondering what the fuck is wrong with my kids.

  “Squires?” H questions.

  “You’re letting someone else do the inside decorations?” Kiki asks, sounding astounded.

  “Yes. All change this year. I’m handing it over to someone else and having a day out with my family. If you all keep looking so shocked, or I hear a single mention of CDO or meltdowns of Georgia proportions, you’ll all take the bus to school without any lunch money for the rest of the year.”

  They all take turns staring wide-eyed at first me and then each other.

  “Come on then, get yourselves sorted.” I clap my hands as I speak, and the kids all head up the stairs.

  “And remember, it’s just Lakeside, not a film premiere or a fashion show we’re going to.”

  Their mumbled responses are indecipherable as I head into the kitchen for a last-minute tidy up before we leave. Although, knowing how long my kids take to get ready, I’ve probably got time to wash and dry three loads of washing, so I head out to the utility room instead.

  Shopping is interesting. Because of mentions of Sean and the anniversary of his death on the news and social media, pictures have been broadcast and posted of the two of us. Meaning that I’m recognised a lot more than usual. Something I didn’t even consider when I suggested our family day out.

  I get asked for my autograph three times and pose for four photos. Cam makes sure to keep the kids out of the way while this happens, which is a hard and fast rule of ours.