by Lesley Jones
“Would I lie to you Claude, or my mother for that matter?” He stood with his hands on his hips; eyebrows raised and pouted his lips. Claude was the gayest straight man I’d ever met and the most amazing tailor, seamstress, maker of things, or whatever his title was, that I’d ever had the pleasure of doing business with.
“Probably yes,” he said through a mouthful of pins. I nodded.
“Yea you’re right but on this occasion I am telling the truth.”
“Who’s the date with? Anyone we know?” Jimmie called over from the other podium where she was being fitted, I looked across and smiled at her, dare I tell her, in front of my Mum, God, I was never going to hear the end of this, my Mum would be wanting to meet him and have him round for Sunday lunch, she was busy faffing around with Jimmie’s sister Julie’s dress with Sall so I took a chance.
“Mr TDH,” I cringed at Jim as I said it. Her and Ash had given me shit for months about him and I told them all along that I wasn’t interested and now here I was going on a date, out for dinner with him no less.
Jimmies jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”
“Yes I’m serious, why does everyone assume I’m lying today? Is it such a ridiculous concept that someone might actually want to take me out on a date?”
“No,” my mother piped up. “The ridiculous concept is that you might actually say yes and want to go out on a date with someone. And who’s Mr TDH?” Trust my mother not miss a trick.
“Oh Bern, you should see him, he is absolutely gorgeous, he’s been after George for months, what made you finally say yes G?” I shrugged, shit, what was I going to tell them? “Aww, he spent two grand in the shop, it’s the least I could do.”
“The very least,” my mother said.
“Well, who is he, what do you know about him?” I shot Jim a look; I didn’t want my Mum knowing anything, yet.
“He’s just a bloke we met in the wine bar, he bought me a drink, then he came in the shop and I helped him with some stuff for his sisters twenty-first after I’d sent Ashley home sick, I’ve not seen him in ages, bumped into him Thursday night and he asked me to dinner tonight… Okay, is that enough facts for everyone?”
Claude clapped. “Can’t wait for the next fitting so you can tell me all about it, just don’t go falling in love and not eating, I don’t want to be making any more alterations to this dress, you’re far too skinny right now Ms Layton.”
I couldn’t believe how nervous I was getting ready Saturday evening. I had my hair washed and dried at the salon next door this afternoon so I had a bath rather than a shower when I got home. There were nice clean sheets on my bed and I had lit a few candles about the place, I wasn’t sure what would eventuate tonight because I knew full well that whatever I decided now, if he tried to, Cam would have me changing my mind and doing his bidding anyway.
I changed my outfit three times before settling for a seventies mini dress. It was A-line, in a gorgeous blue colour, with bell bottomed sleeves, I’d bought it at Kensington Market along with a pair of white sling back shoes and the two went perfectly together. I smoked a cigarette while I waited for Cam, I wasn’t much of a smoker but I was nervous. I had had a couple of glasses of wine while I was getting ready, which had calmed me down and the cigarette did the same. My doorbell buzzed, I stood from the arm of the chair where I’d been sitting and counted to ten, didn’t want to appear too keen if I could help it. I looked through the spy hole my Dad had insisted I install but all I could see was his back, I then proceeded to undo the three different bolts my Dad had also insisted I have and swung the door open.
He’d turned around, he wasn’t facing away from me anymore, he was leaning on the door frame, filling my doorway, looking big and gorgeous and so fucking handsome. Just a pair of plain black trousers and a white shirt, rolled up at the sleeves to just below his elbows, I could see the hint of a gold necklace at his throat, amongst the dark hairs that I could also see there. Instinctively my hand rose to my throat and I touched my own necklace, the one that had sat at my throat for the best part of six years. Sean, no, don’t do this to me, not right now!
Sean!
Sean!
Sean!
My brain screamed out at me.
They’re all just like Sean, Georgia, all of them.
Fuck off, fuck off, fuck off!
I literally had to shake my head to clear the conversation that was going on inside it. He stood in complete silence, filling my doorway, just watching me.
“Hey,” I eventually managed to say.
“Alright?” he replied, sounding like a right cockney geezer. He had the strangest way of talking. I’d been thinking about this last night whilst trying not to think about him, he had a strong East London accent, he dropped his H’s but he used words that most blokes from our neck of the woods didn’t. It made me wonder if he had received a private education, if he had attended a ‘posh’ school despite coming from where he did. Not that it mattered, coming from a working class background entitled you to a private education as much as the next person that could afford it, I was just curious, that was all.
“You look stunning,” he smiled slightly as he said it.
“Thank you, you look… well fuckin’ horny yourself.”
“Kitten, really? You’re all dressed up like a lady and talk like a brass.”
“And how would you know what a brass talks like Cam?” He’d pissed me off now, I hadn’t meant to swear, it just comes out. I grew up with three older brothers, they were just words to me, I managed to keep it under control at work, just, well most of the time, but out of work, they just slipped out and I was only trying to pay him a compliment.
“Because I’ve had to ask them to leave my establishments on more than one occasion, I don’t mind them coming in for a drink but I won’t have them turning tricks in my gaffs and they tend to get a bit lippy when asked to leave.”
“And I sound like one of them?” He sighs and shakes that gorgeous head of his.
“No Georgia, you don’t, I don’t know why I said that, it’s just that you look like such a lady and then you open your mouth and… ” he trails off.
“Well this is a great start, you’ve only been here two minutes and already you’re shaking your head and bollocking me for swearing.” I fold my arms across my chest and tap my foot as I look him up and down.
“Dya wanna leave it and go and find a posh bird to take out?”
“No, I don’t, anyway, posh birds swear too you know… come here.” I shake my head.
“You want me, then you’d best come here Tiger.”
“See, so fuckin’ frustrating, no wonder I shake my head, do you ever do as you’re told?”
“Nope.” I shrug, raise my eyebrows and give him my best ‘What?’ look.
He gives a big sigh, looks as though he’s about to shake his head, thinks about it for a split second, then stalks toward me, he reminds me of a wolf, his eyes narrowed as his big frame gets closer. He stands as close as he can without touching me, I deliberately keep my eyes straight ahead, staring into his chest, breathing in his scent, which just does unexplainable things to me, he uses his middle and index fingers to lift my chin, bringing my eyes level with his soft brown ones, I don’t want to return his gaze but I can’t resist.
“I’m going to kiss you Georgia, I’m going to kiss you and then we’re going to leave, because if we don’t leave the minute I stop kissing you, I’m going to drag you to your bedroom and fuck you senseless for the rest of the weekend.”
I don’t get chance to reply, shit, I don’t get chance to think too much before his soft full lips are on mine, gently at first, he tastes minty and fresh as I open my mouth slightly, his tongue slides along my bottom lip and plunges deep into my mouth, dancing, stroking and teasing mine. I reach up and grab his hair in both of my hands and give out a little moan as he licks the inside of my bottom lip, my moaning obviously has an effect on him as he cups my arse and pulls me into him, grinding against me, I can feel
his erection pressing into my belly and I moan again.
“Fuck off making that noise Georgia before I stop being responsible for my actions.”
I want to do it again, I want to give out the tiniest of little moans but I don’t know if I’ll be able to resist if he initiates sex and I’m not sure if I’m ready to have sex with him. I want this to be different, I think I’m ready to try and have a relationship with him, if that’s what he wants and I would rather we establish a relationship before we start shagging. I step away from him.
“Let’s go.” He stills, even holding on to his breath, what did I say I wonder? Then I get it.
“Out I mean, let’s go out.” He thought I meant let’s go for it, bed, sex or whatever, shit that was close.
We drive into London and have dinner at a beautiful Italian restaurant in Knightsbridge, it’s very posh and there are a couple of photographers hanging about outside so it’s obviously somewhere that celebs hang out but the pap’s aren’t interested in the likes of us. The staff seem to know who Cam is though, greeting him by name and making a fuss while we are led to our table. We sit, chat and enjoy the food and the wine and each other’s company; I learn that he has a flat above the wine bar, making us neighbours. He has a flat in Islington and a house out in Stock, near Billericay but he doesn’t get out to it much because of work commitments. I’m not really sure what those commitments are as he’s a little evasive when I question him. We talk about my work and I explain how mine and my Mum’s business came about and how we got the name of Posh Frocks from what my Dad always called anything my Mum wore.
My heart began to hammer in my chest a little too hard when he asked about my brothers, it pounded in my throat, making it difficult to get air in and I thought I was going to have a full blown panic attack when he asked what Lennon and Marley did. I stared down at the table and tried to control my breathing, focusing on the food left on my plate, which is entirely the wrong thing to do, as the thought of food is adding to the nausea I’m starting to feel and the fear of being sick, starts adding to my panic. His hand reaches across the table to mine, where it’s clenched into a fist, gripping hold of my napkin; he takes it and uncurls my fingers.
“Georgia, its fine.” I slowly bring my eyes up to meet his and he dips his head slightly, shakes it and says, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it babe, tell me another time.” His deep voice is soft and gentle and I nod slightly as my breathing begins to slow.
This is ridiculous; I’ve been apart from Sean for almost four years. I haven’t seen him once in person in all that time and yet still, just the thought of explaining my brother’s involvement with Carnage and the fear of being questioned about the band has me hyperventilating. Fuck you Sean McCarthy, fuck you and what you’ve done to my life. As is always the case when I think of him, Sean, my hand goes to my throat, to my silver G that’s being held by angel wings. It sits there as a silent reminder of what was, what I had, what I lost. I need it, as painful as it is, I need to have that link with me at all times, a silent piece of him, as close to my heart as I’ve allowed anything to be over these past years. I pull my hand out from under Cam’s, pick up my napkin and cover my mouth.
“I can’t… I can’t tell you, and I can’t talk about it.” He nods at me, slowly; I take a gulp of my wine, draining my glass. “I’m sorry.”
He gives a little smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes, he looks concerned and I just feel like a complete bitch, I’m out on a date in a posh restaurant and I’m almost in tears over a bloke that cheated on me four years ago and there’s nothing I can do stop it. I can’t change how I feel, I still love Sean, I miss him, I long for him and I can’t talk about him. I only have a few more months before the wedding and I’ll be standing in a church with him and then I’ll be sitting in the same room at the wedding reception as him and no doubt, I will spend the whole day and the whole night, trying, forcing myself not to look at him. Just the thought of that day and how painful it’s going to be has the blood rushing through my ears again and once again I’m swallowing hard, trying to stop the dinner I just ate, from coming back up and reintroducing itself to the plate it was originally served on.
“Do you want to leave Georgia?” Cam asks me very quietly. I nod. I don’t want to speak, I don’t think I can, my chest is so tight, I just wish I could cry, just once, if I could let go of the tears, then perhaps I could let go of some of the pain.
I don’t even notice Cam gesture to the waiter but he must, he’s there with the bill in an instant, Cam pays him in cash and then stands and helps me put on my jacket, the perfect gentleman. We wait for just a few seconds as the valet brings his car around, before he’s even out, Cam has the passenger side door open and helps guide me in, before tipping the valet, taking his keys and sliding in beside me; he pulls silently into the Saturday night traffic of London’s elite SW1 and we drive in silence until we are almost at my flat.
“I’m so sorry about tonight Cam, the restaurant was beautiful, and the food was fantastic, I’m so sorry my stupid behaviour ruined it.”
He keeps his eyes on the road and says nothing, I’ve totally blown it, I like Cam, he’s the first bloke since Sean to stir any kind of interest in me and I’ve just gone and fucked up any chance I might have had with him and I’ve no idea how I can try to make it better. Perhaps if we fucked? If we get the fucking out of the way first, it might help me to move on. I’m pretty sure that Cam would be good in bed, and I’m sure that he’d finally give me the orgasm I was so desperate for. I could DIY it myself no problem, I had invested in the perfect little toy that meant I could come in a matter of seconds on my own, but I hadn’t come with a man in almost four years, since Spain, with Sean, Sean, Sean, fucking Sean. I let out a huff of frustration that I didn’t mean to, just as Cam parked his car in the spot outside my flat, he finally turned and looked at me.
“Have you ever had help Georgia?”
“What? What kind of help?”
“Psychological help? Help to try and get over whatever it is that happened to you.”
My hand instantly flew up to my neck. “Help to try and get deal with whatever he did to you.” He gestures with the tilt of his chin toward my necklace, where my hand still is, fucking hell; he thinks I’m mad, he thinks I’m insane, am I? I’m completely fucked up, I know that much but I don’t know about insane, I choose to ignore the comment and the question.
“Would you like to come in for a coffee?”
“You really want me to come in?”
I nod, I do, I really don’t want to be alone right now. I’m so sick of being alone and I’m so sick of being lonely.
When Sean did what he did in that room, not only did I lose him and the life that we had planned together, I also lost Jimmie, Lennon and Marley, I know I still got to see Len and Jim but we could’ve all been so much closer. I would have been involved with the band, touring with them, seeing my brothers and my best friend almost daily and suddenly, it was all ripped away from me. They all went off and road the fame wave with the band, whilst I quietly slipped off back to school, all on my own. While I’m lost in my own thoughts, Cam has gotten out of the car and come around and opened the door on my side, I stare up at him blankly for a few seconds, before I realise that he’s waiting for me to get out, he takes my hand, puts his other hand on the top of my head so I don’t bump it and guides me out of the car and up the stairs to my flat.
My Dad had insisted on two lots of security doors when his blokes worked on the refurbishment. You unlock the first door, walk along a short corridor and before reaching the front door that eventually lets you into my place; it’s not huge but it’s mine and I’ve decorated it exactly how I wanted to. My Mum wanted florals and dado rails, I wanted plainly painted walls and a leather sofa, a chesterfield in fact, it reminded me of the summerhouse, just the smell of the leather alone would make my belly flip every time I came home; my parents still had that old sofa, Sean and I had had sex on it, more than once. Sean, Sean.
“Sorry, what?” I’m sitting on a stool at my breakfast bar and I’ve no idea how I got here.
He doesn’t wait for an answer, he just starts opening cupboards until he finds the bottle of Drambuie I always keep for when my dad comes over, he pulls two whisky tumblers from the shelf above the drink and pours two large measures into both, then adds ice from the freezer. Placing both the glasses down in front of me, he stands on one side of the bench top, and leans forward on his elbows, facing me as I sit on my stool on the other side. He tilts his glass toward me.
“Cheers?’ It’s a question not a toast. I pick up my glass and tap it against his and nod slightly.
“Cheers,” I state.
He looks at me for a long while but I just know he’s going to talk and I know he’s going to ask questions and rightly so, I’ve behaved like a complete head case tonight. He took me out to a nice restaurant; he’s behaved with impeccable manners and has shown the patience of a saint, so he’s more than entitled to ask questions if he feels inclined; whether I’ll answer them without having another complete meltdown is another thing.
“Why do you wear it if it causes you so much pain?”
What is he talking about?
“The necklace, why wear it?” I raise my hand, and then put it back down, he’s very perceptive. My belly flips upside down and then feels like it’s trying to turn itself inside out.
“I really like you Georgia but I need to know what I’m up against. I want to know who I’m up against?” He’s quiet for a few seconds. “I’m not some kind of a cunt, if it’s a bloke and he’s still about, if your still involved, I will walk away and leave you to it. I want you George, fuck do I want you but I want you to come to me willingly and I want you to come to me single, I don’t share.”