“Yeah, he’s in there somewhere, talking business with your dad.”
The house my parents now lived in was a barn conversion. It was absolutely beautiful with high ceilings and exposed beams. They’d had to adhere to all kinds of building regulations to get the job done, as the building was listed, and they’d brought in a few specialists, but the end result was spectacular. My favourite thing about it was the galleried landing that ran all the way around upstairs. Part of the flooring downstairs was the original flagstones, and part was timber. It was sleek and modern, but warm and cosy at the same time.
I headed to my dad’s office because I could hear his and Bailey’s voices coming from inside. I put my head around the door and saw that they both had their bums perched on the edge of my dad’s huge desk. Thoughts of Cam and what we’d almost done in his office Thursday night popped into my head, causing my cheeks to flush. My dad was sipping from a whisky tumbler, and Bail’s was inspecting a shotgun, probably the latest addition to my dad’s collection. He always kept guns and enjoyed shooting game and clays, but he had gotten into it even more since they’d moved. Their house was on five acres. He had deer, pheasant, and plenty of rabbits out the back. A huge pond and stables were also out there, and that was where my mum kept her two horses. Well, one was mine, but I’d been very negligent and hadn’t ridden in weeks.
“Ello, Princess,” my dad said, as soon as he spotted me. He held his arms open, and I walked right into them, inhaling deeply the scent that was so uniquely my dad. Drambuie and Tabac aftershave. No matter how many different designer aftershaves people bought him, my dad always resorted back to his old favourite, and I was so glad that he did. For me, that smell was home, safety, love, and security. When I was a little girl, that smell was how I assumed all dads smelt, and I loved it. He held me tight and kissed my head through my hair.
“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Georgia, you’re skin and bone. What have you been doin’ to yourself? Your mother really needs to fatten you up.”
“Thanks, Dad. I love you, too.” I pulled away and gave Bailey a cuddle. My head spun as I took in the smell of his Givenchy aftershave. “Big brother Bailey, how are you? I’ve missed ya, you smell lovely.”
He squeezed me so hard I could hardly breathe. “Baby sister, Georgia, how the fuck are ya? It’s been way too long. Shit, you’re skinny.”
“Bailey, language please. It is Sunday.”
We all turned and laughed at my mum. She and my dad both grew up in Plaistow, East London. My dad still had a real cockney accent, but my mum spoke much nicer and always corrected us on our grammar. I never dropped my H’s or said ain’t, grub, or gissit instead of give me it when I was around my mum. When we travelled on business, most people assumed we came from London, but they had no idea which part and would never have guessed at her working-class roots. I most definitely wasn’t posh, but around my mum, I wasn’t common either. But away from my mum and work was an entirely different story.
“Mum, what difference does it make what day of the week it is? Swearing is swearing. If your mate, the Big G Man, up there don’t like it, then he don’t like it any day, not just on a Sunday.”
“His name is God, Bailey Michael Layton, or our Holy Father, and you should be more respectful. Francis, talk to your son.” My mum was still a practising Catholic, but my dad not so much. We had all been christened in the Catholic Church and educated through the Catholic school system, but none of us went to church unless it was to make my mum happy.
Jimmie and Lennon’s wedding was being held at the Catholic Cathedral in Brentwood, and I knew from the family weddings that I had attended in the past that it was going to be at least a two-hour ceremony. Well, at least they always felt that long. This next wedding would be excruciatingly long. Sean and I, both of us, standing in a church, watching two of the people we loved most in the world get married. Well, it would be agony for me. He, however, probably wouldn’t give a shit, but then again, Jimmie did say a while back that he did still ask after me, and Len said he’d get drunk and cry.
What hurt me more than anything was the way he’d just given up. He called a lot in the beginning, but only for a few weeks, and he never wrote or came round when I knew the boys were in England. Perhaps if he’d tried harder to convince me he was actually sorry, things would have been different. Maybe I would’ve come to terms with things a little better. I didn’t know, and it was all too much to think about. I’d gone to sleep last night wondering if my young, immature, sixteen-year-old self overreacted at the time.
Are my expectations of fidelity and faithfulness way too high?
I just didn’t know, and for the rest of that day, I wasn’t going to think about any of it. Or at the very least try not to.
Sunday lunch was, as always when my mum cooked it, absolutely perfect. Later that afternoon, Jimmie and Lennon came over. Bailey was staying at my parent’s house as he’d recently split with his long-term girlfriend, Donna, and was looking for somewhere new to live.
Despite my brothers all living elsewhere, my dad had one of the stables converted into a soundproofed studio, and it was where we were all sitting on that Sunday afternoon. I laid my head on Bailey’s lap as we both sat on the old Chesterfield sofa I refused to let my dad get rid of. Len sat on a beanbag, strumming on an old, acoustic guitar that had belonged to one of my brothers, and Jim was lying on the floor, flicking through yet another bridal magazine. Bail’s passed the joint he was smoking down to me, and I took a long draw on it. Getting stoned and chilling the fuck out with my brothers was exactly what I needed to do. Len stood up, came over, and took the joint from me.
“How about you share the love, baby sister?”
“Happy to share, big bro, just can’t be arsed getting up to pass it to ya.”
“Lazy cow.”
“Yep, that’s me.”
He plonked himself back down in the beanbag and smoked and strummed. The strumming started to turn into an actual tune. Jimmie rolled over onto her back then jumped up and took the joint from Len. I watched as she took a draw and shook her head at him slightly. By her reaction, I assumed the song was probably something by Carnage, but I was well on my way to being shitfaced, so I actually didn’t care too much. Jimmie must’ve known what I needed and passed the joint back to me. I took one more draw and passed it back to Bails.
“Oh my God, I forgot to ask, how did your date go?” Jim squealed from her spot on the floor.
Bailey turned my head with his hands, so I was looking up into his face. “You finally back in the game and dating, George?”
I shrugged and blushed.
“Who was your date with, G? Anyone we know?”
“I told ya, she had a date with the bloke from the wine bar,” Jimmie replied to Len.
“What wine bar did you meet him in?” Bailey looked down and asked me.
“The one he owns,” Jimmie piped up again, and I sat up straight.
“Fuck me, George. You said that without moving your lips,” Bailey joked.
“Go you! Going out with a bloke that owns a wine bar,” Lennon added.
“It’s a wine bar, Len, not a rock band.”
Len raised his eyebrows at my remark. “I wasn’t being sarcastic, George.”
I shrugged. I didn’t know why I’d said that aloud, but it was true. It was just a wine bar, nothing to do with a rock band.
“Which one?” Bailey asked. “Which wine bar does he own?”
“Kings,” I replied.
“You’re dating, Cameron King? Seriously? Fuck, George, does the old man know?” Lennon asked.
How does he know Cam?
“You are kidding, Georgia? You aren’t seriously dating, Cameron King, are you?”
My head hit the leather of the sofa as my brother moved out from beneath me.
“Yes, well, no. I went on a date with him last night. He took me out to dinner. How do you two know Cam?”
Bailey was standing up and leaning over me now, and I didn’t like the
way this conversation was going.
“Georgia, everybody knows Cam. You do know who he is, right?”
I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders.
“Cameron King owns half of London and most of Essex. He’s partners with us in Kings, but only because his sister-in-law sold us her share, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Does Dad know? He’s dangerous, George. I mean it, he’s fucking dangerous.” Bailey was pacing the floor in front of me. I didn’t understand what his problem was. From what I knew of him, Cam was a nice bloke.
Why didn’t he tell me he was in partnership with my dad?
Why didn’t he tell me he has a wife?
“Sister-in-law? He’s married?” I swear Jimmie could read my mind.
Bailey shook his head. “He was. She’s dead.”
What the fuck?
“What? How did she die?” I let Jimmie ask all the questions while I listened in silence as my scalp began to prickle.
Bailey scratched at the stubble on his jaw. “I don’t remember all the details. She was pregnant, and it all went tits up. She and the baby both died, and he was a mess. He was completely fucked up by it all, and he’s only just sorted himself out over these last couple of years. Did you not know any of this?”
No, I didn’t. He’d mentioned that he knew my dad, but surely, he must have guessed that I’d find out the extent of their relationship.
Did he want me to find out like this?
I felt a little hurt, but at the end of the day, I hadn’t been exactly forthcoming with the details of my past either.
“It was our first date, it’s not exactly first date conversation, is it? ‘Would you like some wine? And oh, did I mention I have a dead wife and baby?’”
Bailey stopped pacing and looked at me. “No, sorry, it’s not. Look, George, I know this is bollocks, but you really do need to stay away from him. He’s bad news. Dad will go mental, and he’s way too old for you anyway.”
“How old is he?”
“You went out with him, and you didn’t even know how old he was?”
I shrugged and shook my head again. “Just tell me, Bailey. How fuckin’ old is he?”
“I’m not sure, but he’s older than me. I think he’s about thirty, thirty-one. Too old for you, Georgia, and Dad won’t be happy when he finds out. Fuck, I’m not happy, George.”
“What’s Dad’s problem with him?”
“Our paths have crossed his a few times. He owns a few bars and clubs, and he’s got fingers in a lot of pies. He owned Kings with his wife, and when she died, it went to her sister. I forget her name, but she’s a right bitch. She hates him with a passion and blames him for her sister’s death. Anyway, she got her sister’s share of the club. King wanted to buy her out, but she wouldn’t let him. She basically wanted to sell to anyone but him.” He shrugged. “Really, she just wanted to fuck him over. We heard she was looking for a buyer, put in an offer, and she took it, but as part of the deal, we can’t sell it to him for at least ten years. He offered Dad all sorts, but the club does well, so why wouldn’t we want in? He made a few threats at first, but he was such a mess at the time that we didn’t take them seriously. Anyway, he has little to do with the place. It’s his in name only, pretty much the same as us. We own it, but the club runs itself. We have people we trust in there and no doubt, so does he, but I’m telling you now, George, Dad, won’t be happy if he finds out you’re seeing him.”
I couldn’t believe this! My brain was running in slow motion. I was too stoned to think it all over right then, so I slumped back down on the sofa and let out a huff. Jimmie threw herself down next to me.
“Well, that’s fuckin’ bollocks. Do you like him? You seemed excited yesterday, about your date, I mean.”
“Excited is pushing it a bit, Jim. I fucked it all up anyway. He asked about what Lennon and Marley did for work, and I went into meltdown.”
Jim took my hand in hers. “Oh, George, I’m sorry. All this time. I really wish you’d talk to him. You’re both so unhappy. If you’d just talk, even if you don’t get back together, you might at least sort out some of your issues so you can both move on.”
I looked down at where our fingers were laced together and realised my other hand was on my necklace.
“How is he, Jim?” I’d never, not in almost four years, no matter how desperately I wanted to know, asked her this.
“He’s sad, George. He gets on with his days. He writes songs that are so obviously about you. He drinks too much, he snorts too much Charlie, he smokes too much weed, and he fucks too many women, but all just to try to forget you.”
Lennon was listening to what we were saying. He passed a fresh joint to me. “I really wish you two would talk before the wedding, Porge. I don’t want the pair of you not enjoying the day because you’re worried about the other one being there.”
“I’ll be fine.” I shrugged. I wouldn’t. I’d be far from fine, but I didn’t want Jim and Lennon worrying about how I’d be handling their big day.
“You’ve been saying that for nearly four years, G, and look at ya. You’re skinnier than you’ve ever been and still can’t bear to hear his name mentioned. This whole thing between the two of you is seriously fucked,” Lennon stated.
I didn’t argue with him. I couldn’t, what he’d said was true, about me anyway.
Bailey was lying on the floor with his long legs stretched out in front of him and his head resting on the beanbag. “I’m sorry, George. I didn’t realise you were still such a mess over Sean.”
“Shush!” Jimmie glared at Bails. “We don’t say his name when Georgia’s here.”
“You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me right?” His eyes looked between all of us, and I shook my head.
“We don’t say his name, we don’t talk about the band, and we don’t play music,” Jimmie informed him of the usually unspoken rules.
Bailey was sitting up with his elbows resting on his knees. “Why, Porge? Why?” My eldest brother hadn’t been around to witness how close Sean and I had become over the years. He had no idea how deep our love and connection ran.
“Because I love him so much, Bails. It still hurts too much, because I’m still just barely hanging on.”
“Oh, Georgia, I’m so sorry. I had no fuckin’ idea. I’m your big brother. I should’ve been here instead of letting Donna keep me away. I’m so sorry, baby girl.” He pulled me down onto the floor and into his lap. Everyone in the room was silent, except Jimmie, who was crying.
“What the fuck is that?” I asked when I heard a rumbling sound coming from outside.
Bailey frowned. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, shit.”
Lennon stood up and looked from me to Jimmie. She shook her head slightly at him, and they both sat down on the sofa.
“Ha, it’s a bike. It must be Marley. Fuck, I can’t remember the last time we were all together.”
“Marley has a bike?” I asked. I knew nothing about the life of the brother I was once so close to. I didn’t even know that he was in the country. I really needed to start building bridges with him. There were less than three months until the wedding, and I didn’t want any kind of animosity between us on that day. I’d been thinking about this for a while, and if he was here, well then now, today was as good a day as any to make a start. The sound of the engine had gone quiet.
“He’ll go in and see the rents first, skin up, Bails,” Lennon stated.
Yeah, skin up, Bails. I’m gonna need something to take the edge off if I’m really gonna do this.
Talking to my brother again after almost four years would be so much easier to do stoned. I actually giggled to myself when I thought it.
Jimmie looked at me and smiled. “You smashed, Georgia?”
I giggled again. “Fuck, Jamie, I think I am.”
We laughed and leant into each other like we used to, back in the day. The door to the studio swung open and in walked Marley, Sean, and two girls.
My world stopped turning,
and without any hesitation, consideration, or thought of any kind, I just looked at him and said on a sob, “No, oh God, no.”
“Gia.” He started to move towards me.
“Get out!” Bailey roared at him.
“Georgia!” Sean called.
“Get the fuck out, Maca!”
“No, Bails, let me talk to her. G! Please, can we talk, G? I just wanna talk.” He was pleading.
I didn’t know what to do. My eyes roamed over his eyes, his nose, his chin, his beautiful face that I had missed, so much, so very much.
“What do you wanna do, George? Shall I fuck him off out of it or d’ya wanna talk to him?”
I took a few deep breaths, trying to steady my voice before I asked him to stay.
“Who the fuck’s she, Maca?” the girl standing just inside the door asked. She was short and blonde with massive tits.
Haley! She looked just like Haley. I can’t do this.
“Get out!” Sean shouted at the girl. “Get out. Get the fuck out!” He roared.
She looked stunned but turned around and left. His eyes swung back to mine, wide and pleading “G, please, baby. Just talk to me. I miss you so much, so fuckin’ much.”
“Go,” I whispered.
“No, G, no. Please, just five minutes, there’s so much I need to tell ya. I love you so much, Gia.”
“Go, Sean, go!” I screamed.
Bailey knocked me off his lap as he threw himself towards him.
“Get the fuck out. You’ve hurt her enough. No more, Maca, no fuckin’ more. Else I swear, I’ll kill you with my bare hands you cunt.”
I stood up, but the room spun, so I sat back down. Jimmie was next to me on the sofa, and she was sobbing. Len and Bailey were trying to drag Sean out of the door, but he was fighting them and calling my name. Screaming my name.
To the left was Marley, standing all alone and sobbing while shaking his head. My heart tried its very hardest to break into even more pieces. But it was packed so tightly together behind that wall, that try as it might, it was held in place, still, unmoving, and hard, by all those bricks.
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