Marley (Carnage #3)

by Lesley Jones

  Len had just turned twenty-one, but he managed us like a seasoned pro, and I was so glad that he was a part of what we are about to embark on. I’d been so swept away with being a rock star while we’d been touring Europe that I’d not taken any notice of the legalities and formalities of releasing our first album; the rights, the royalties, the obligations. I’d let it all slide, but not Len. He’d spent hours with Marcus, who worked for my dad, going through contracts and paperwork, finally getting us a better deal than we were originally offered.

  I’d thought to myself, ‘One day, I’ll thank Len properly, but right now, I need to let my best mate know how sorry I am.’

  “I’m sorry, Mac; I fucked up. As soon as George will let me talk to her, I’ll explain everything.”

  I looked at him, and I mean really looked at him. He had dark circles under his eyes, his hair looked straggly, and he almost had a full beard going on. He’d even lost weight, all since we’d gotten home from France.

  He took in a deep breath and shook his head. “We both fucked up, Marls. I should never have gone back to the room knowing she would be there. You’re single, so what you do is up to you, but I should’ve known better. I’ve got G, and I love G. The last fucking person I should’ve been anywhere near is Haley fucking White.”

  I didn’t agree with what he was saying, but I nodded my head anyway.

  “Have you spoken to her?” I asked. He blew out a long breath that made his hair move and I watched as his eyes filled with tears.

  “Na, I can’t get past your parents on the phone. I’ve sent her a couple of letters, but I don’t know if she’s read them.”

  He leaned back on the table we were all sitting around earlier; his knuckles white where he was gripping the edge so tightly.

  “Did you hear what happened the other day, with the dog shit?” I asked him. It was a low move. I was trying to deflect the focus onto our crazy fans and away from my wrongdoings.

  “Yeah, Jim told me. I put out a statement saying that what Georgia and I are going through is a private matter and in no way are events that happened in France her fault.” He looked up at me and shrugged his shoulders. “Hopefully, that’ll be enough to make the pyscho fuckers leave her alone.” I nodded my head, but I doubted his statement would help. Our fans seemed to be out for George.

  “She should be here, Marls. She should be by my side, by our sides. These are the biggest events of our lives and she should be a part of it. I miss her so fucking much.” He finally broke down and cried as he spoke, wiping his nose and his tears on the back of his hand.

  “I don’t know what to do. I’m so fucking lost without her. How the fuck could I be so stupid? The one person, possibly the only person G hates in the world, and I do something like that.”

  “She’ll come around, Maca. You know what she’s like when she’s pissed off. Just give her a chance to calm down.” I tried to reassure him, but he shook his head at me.

  “Thing is, Marls, is she’s not pissed off or angry, she’s broken. I fucking broke her ... I broke us. She trusted me and I fucked it all up.”

  “She’s hurt and she’s angry, but she loves you, we all know that. Perhaps give her a bit of space to get her head around it all. Stop calling, and just write the letters. Let her read them and take them in at her own pace. She’ll get there, it’s just gonna take her a while.”

  “I’ve got no fucking choice, really, do I? She’s there and I’m here, about to head off around the country. I’m gonna ask her to come and see us play in Liverpool on my birthday. It’s still a few weeks away and I’m hoping that she’ll hear me out by then. Even if she can’t forgive me, I still need to know that I can have her in my life―that she’ll at least talk to me.” His eyes were once again full of tears. “Coz this...” He gestures around the empty room, “This big fat nothing―this blank where she should be―is killing me, bit by bit, day by day. I’m fucking dying.”

  I felt like the biggest cunt on earth. My mouth watered a little bit from the sick feeling I had inside.

  “I love you man, and I’ll do everything I can to help put this right.” I stepped towards him and wrapped my arms around him. It wasn’t awkward, we’d done it before. We were artists; expressing our feelings came easy to us.

  “I think you’re gonna need to, mate. I think it’s gonna take more than just me to convince your sister just how sorry I am.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  2014

  That conversation happened with Maca almost thirty years ago, but I remember every word, and I’ll never forget the defeated look on his face.

  The sun’s up. I really shouldn’t be drinking whiskey at this hour, but I can’t be bothered to get up and go make coffee, and I doubt that Ash’ll be up anytime soon.

  I pour more of the amber coloured liquid into my glass, taking it and my laptop, over to the sofa. I sit with my legs stretched out in front of me, the computer on top of a cushion and sip on my drink as I start to read more of what I’ve written. When the early morning sun hits the crystal tumbler my drink is in, it occurs to me that the colour of the single malt appears pretty close to the colour of Sean’s eyes. I get that usual stab of pain to my chest, which happens whenever I think of him. I stare at the computer screen in contemplative silence, wondering what sort of level my sisters pain is at these days. Does she feel that swift, sharp pierce with each memory of him, or has Cam done such a good job of putting her back together that it’s more of a dull ache these days?

  As happy as she is with her life right now, I knew that she still has the odd moment where she struggles. We were at a function for one of the charities our foundation supports a few weeks ago when a woman asked her how many children she has ...

  “Six,” George replied. “Four growing up rapidly, and two angels in heaven with their daddy.” I couldn’t meet her eyes for a few seconds. After I swallowed down the lump in my throat, I looked up to find her staring at her plate while everyone else at the luncheon conversed around her, no one sure of the correct response to her reply. I reached out and took her hand.

  “I don’t know how you do it,” I tell her.

  She gives me a half smile and her blue eyes shine with tears as they meet mine.

  “I have a family that gave me no choice. I have a husband that holds my hand every step of the fucking way, four beautiful children that make me fight for every breath that I take, and I have Sean, Baby M, and Beau to make proud. I’m just doing my best.”

  “And he would. He’d be so fucking proud of you, G.” She wipes a tear from under each of her eyes.

  “You have no idea how often I question that Marls,” she whispers.

  “Well, you shouldn’t, not ever.”

  “Shit.” She says quietly, leaning down and pretending to look for something in her bag while blowing her nose.

  “Subject change Marls... Please.”

  She sits back up and smiles at the blonde sitting across from her, “So, Gwen, how’s the fashion line going? I bought a beautiful bag of yours the other day.”

  I think that George has learnt better than any of us could on how to hide the pain that memories of Sean and her babies must inflict.

  The door of my office slowly opens and my wife blinks her way through it. Her blonde hair is a bed-headed mess and she looks sexy as fuck. She squints through her blue/brown eyes at me and licks her lips.

  “Marls? What are you doing? It’s not even six yet ... have you been down here all night?”

  Her voice is croaky from sleep and my dick likes it. Fuck, I love her. I had no idea about being in love or relationships when I met her, and my feelings scared the crap out of me, but we’ll get to that later.

  “C’mere.” I hold out my hand to her but she shakes her head no.

  “What’s that?” She gestures with her chin towards the laptop.

  I arch my back in an attempt to stretch and I yawn. I put my glass down on the floor and then look up at her. My wife owns some of the most expensive bits of si
lky and satin shit ever created on this earth, but she’s standing in front of me wearing a white Ed Sheeran T-shirt of mine, her long legs crossed at the ankle as she leans on the door frame.

  “Are any of the kids home?” I ask, not that that’s going to stop me from doing what I want to do to her.

  “No. Connie stayed at Annie’s last night. I don’t think any of them are coming home this weekend.”

  Joe has his own place in Hoxton in East London, and Annie and her boyfriend, Fletcher, have just moved into Sean and mine’s old place in Docklands.

  My kids are all doing well. Joe, despite starting an engineering degree, just couldn’t stay away from the music and his band, Paywall, are just about to start a world tour as a support act to some big American band I can’t even think of the name of ... Date The Parson or Pastor, or something like that. They’re a little too grungy for me, but have a huge following.

  I’ve lived a fairly quiet life since Carnage split up. We never wanted the press attention when we were together, so I definitely didn’t want it once we parted, especially around my kids.

  People eventually worked out who they were, but they’d all grown up to be well adjusted young people.

  Our three, and Len and Jimmie’s four, had all gone to the same school out in the Essex countryside. They were a tight little bunch and always looked out for each other; pretty much the way I grew up with my brothers and sister. All of them had gone on to various universities around the country, except for Paige. She’d dropped out and had been modelling since she was sixteen. I’d often see her face on a billboard if I were out and about. Even at home, she’d pop up on the telly in an ad occasionally. Paige was the absolute spitting image of George and Tallulah. Her devil child daughter looked like the both of them. Don’t get me wrong, I love Lu―we all love Lu, it’s impossible not to. But she’s Georgia’s child and shit don’t we know it. My ol’ man just laughs when Lu is having one of her ‘moments.’ He shakes his head and tells George, “Well, you’ve finally met your match, George―got the daughter you deserved there. Good luck with that one.”

  I don’t pity Cam one little bit when the hormones kick in with that one.

  “Marley?” Ashley’s voice brings me back. “What are you reading on the laptop, and why are you drinking whiskey this early?”

  “I’ve written the book.” I admit. Her eyes widen.

  “What, already? You’ve written a book in just one night?” She takes a step towards me. I stare up at her, my mouth hanging slightly open as I think about how I’m going to explain this.

  She stops and folds her arms across her chest, her tits moving up and I must look like a goldfish as I open and close my mouth a couple of times.

  “You’d already written it, hadn’t you? All this time, and you’d already done it.”

  It’s not a question, her voice is accusatory. Her eyes fill with tears and now I hate that I went behind her back.

  “C’mere. Please, Ash. Just come over here, sit on my lap and let me tell you about it.”

  I need to hold her, feel her warmth and breathe her in. She shakes her head and a tear hangs from her bottom lashes.

  “What’s in it Marls? What’ve you kept hidden from me?”

  Nothing.

  Everything.

  I close the laptop and swing my legs around, planting my feet on the hardwood floor. Ash takes a step away from me and I don’t like it, not one bit.

  “Don’t fucking step away from me,” I tell her. She raises her eyebrows and gives me the look.

  I’ve pissed her off, big time.

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now Marls? You’ve secretly written a book, about your life behind my back, and you want me to come and sit on your lap?”

  I shrug my shoulders and smile my best smile. “Well, I’d rather you sat on my face, but you might not be able to understand what I’m saying through a mouthful of fanny, so lap will do... or dick. Dick would work.” I wiggle my eyebrows.

  She ain’t having it ... Not. At. All.

  “What did you do? What happened that’s so terrible you’ve never told me?” Her jaw trembles as she asks.

  “No, no, baby. Nothing, I just ...” I lean down, pick my glass up from the floor and start to drain the contents. Before I finish, Ash knocks it from my hand and it spins through the air before hitting the hardwood floor, bouncing once and cracking into pieces as it lands.

  “Don’t fuck with me Marley. If you’ve done something ...” She pauses and swallows. I regard her in somewhat stunned amazement.

  She’s so fucking beautiful when she’s angry. She’s stunning, and she’s mine.

  “If you’ve fucked about and then written about it in this book before telling me, I’ll walk. I’m telling you now, straight up. I’ll fucking walk.”

  “No, Ash, it’s nothing like that. I swear on my life that’s not it.” I rub my hand over my stubbled chin, keeping my eyes on hers as she moves and flops down on the sofa next to me.

  “Then tell me what the fuck is going on, coz right now, you’re scaring the crap out of me.”

  I let out a long breath. “I’ve included lots of stuff, lots of things that no one but me and Maca knew about; private conversations with my family, with you. I just found it easier to write it how it actually happened, and now I have to read it all back and decide what parts to take out.”

  I turn and look at where she’s sitting beside me, her long legs curled underneath her. She tilts her head back and stares up at the ceiling for a few seconds, then turns to look at me.

  “Well, why don’t you read through it, let me read through it, then take out the parts that you think should never be seen by anyone but your wife, from whom you keep no secrets if you like your balls being attached to your body.” She raises her eyebrows and leans slightly towards me for emphasis as she says this and I fight not to smile.

  “Then, let everyone who this may effect read it and let them have the final say in what should or shouldn’t be made public.”

  Ash looks at the world from such a simplistic viewpoint. She’s always so good at coming up with a practical answer to things. I’m an over-thinker where Ash is a practical thinker. Did I mention that I love this woman?

  I lift her onto my lap so that she’s straddling me. Sliding my hands under the T-shirt she’s wearing, I hold her naked bum cheeks in each of my palms. “What would I ever do without you?” I ask, rubbing my nose against hers as I talk.

  “Don’t let me read that book, Rock Star, and you’ll soon find the fuck out.”

  I raise my hand and my fingertips skim over her skin. My thumbs start to stroke across her nipples. She leans into me, arching her back so that her tits push forward. I kiss her throat, grinding my hips into her as she gives out a small moan.

  “Baby, I need you to be perfectly clear about something,” I tell her.

  She gyrates against my cock and it takes all of my willpower not to pull it out of my boxers and bury myself balls deep inside her, but I need to tell her the truth first. I can’t have her hurt and upset, worrying that I’m hiding something from her.

  “Eyes, Ash, look at me.”

  She instantly meets my gaze. We look at each other in silence. “There are things that I’ve said and done in my life that I’m not proud of. I’ve been in denial about some of them since the moment they happened, while others I’ve tried to justify by convincing myself that I was young, stupid, and didn’t know better.”

  I tilt my head slightly and break our connection for a few seconds. “Writing this book, reliving these situations, has helped me come to terms with...” I take a deep breath. “To take ownership of some of the shitty things I’ve done in the past. I just need to make sure that I’m ready for the rest of the world to see me for what I am ... who I was.” I shrug and let out a long sigh.

  “There’s a lot of sex, drugs, and rock and roll in there, babe. There’s some explicit shit, but you know all that, about all of that.”

  “Is there stuff
about us?” she asks. “I don’t think, I mean, the kids, Marls. I don’t want them reading shit about me.” She leans her forehead against mine.

  “No, I wouldn’t share stuff like that. Our life is our life, and it’s got fuck all to do with anyone else.” I look up at her and smile. “There is a bit about when we first met though; about what I thought, what I was feeling, and even about the shitty way I behaved in the beginning.”

  “You were a prick. A―a flash fucker.”

  “Yeah, I was, and then you happened baby,” I tell her, unable to contain the smile memories of our first encounters evoke.

  “Pffftt, you were a prick for a long time after that too.”

  “Cheers, babe.” I feign offense, but know that what she’s saying is probably true.

  I tuck her hair behind her ear on one side. “It’s not a pretty story, Ash. My life before you was exactly what you might expect from a single bloke in a successful band, but it’s not just that.” I stroke her cheek with the back of my hand. “There’s other people’s secrets in there and they’re the things that I need to decide what to do with, but you have nothing to worry about. There may be a few things I’ve written about that may come as a surprise to you,” I shrug my shoulders, “and some you may have already guessed at, or even known before me. Just give me this weekend to get it read and then I promise I’ll let you take a look.” She nods her head.

  “So, we gonna fuck here Rock Star, or go back to bed for a bit?” she asks.

  Did I mention that Marley loves Ash?

  CHAPTER SIX

  After the exertion of giving my wife a couple of orgasms and her returning the favour by sucking me dry in the shower, I go back to bed while she heads out for a day of shopping with Jimmie and George.

  I eventually wake up just after noon. After a quick coffee and the bowl of porridge Ash insists I have to eat every day, I go back to the study and start reading...