Page 97 of Love Thief

Kasey Becker calls, asking to come stay. He’s doing re-shoots in London in about two weeks, at the end of August, and prefers my apartment to a hotel. Wants to know if I’ll be in London to see him.

I tell him he’s welcome to stay, but I won’t be there until the week after as we’re down in Devon.

“I’m on my way,” he says and hangs up.

I look at the phone. “Kasey just hung up on me. He says he’s on his way.”

Jonno starts to laugh. “Well that will cause a stir in LA circles if he comes here. Maybe those babies are Kasey’s. You have had him stay a few times.”

“Oh my god, Jonno, do not say that, even as a joke. I had a girl in the shop in town ask me how could I cheat on Kellen? He’s so gorg. If anyone hears you say that, it could start a serious issue for me.”

“I won’t. There’s only us here in our own home, but I reckon Kellen could do with a few issues.”

“He’s probably got enough going on, to be honest.”

He looks at me in disgust. “You’re too easy on him. He’s a total fuckhead. He should be here. James is well pissed with him. I reckon it won’t be long before ‘Dear Old Dad’ starts to get a few missiles thrown his way.”

“What do you mean?” I ask him.

“James. He’s ruthless. He’ll batter Kellen, and I reckon it’ll be in about two, maybe three weeks tops.”

“Why then?”

He sighs at me like I’m being a bit thick, my brain functions on a need to do only basis at the minute. “Because after that time, the twins could come and survive. James’s argument with his Dad is if the phone call is not coming, then you should. If not, why not?

You know he went out there to see him. Caused chaos, by all accounts. Told them all what he thought of them, and then laughed when they tried to argue back.

Apparently Mick told Tommy that Kell was on the floor by the time James left, bleeding from all the punches he landed.” Jonno doesn’t even try to hide his satisfied smirking.

“Still not here though, is he?” I say bitterly, “regardless of what James said. I think I’ve just got to get on without him. Well, to be honest, I have been, haven’t I? Because these two are coming, hopefully in seventeen weeks timeish. I’m sort of prepared, but I have to say I am really scared as well.” My lip is taking the brunt of my anxiety at the prospect of doing it alone again.

Jonno notices and comes over and hugs me, as best he can, then kneels in front of my stomach, and says to us all, “We, I, will be there for everything. Everything. You are not on your own, nor will you ever be, regardless of Marcus fucking Russell.”

Kasey arrives a few days later, bringing a full Hollywood entourage. Marshall nearly faints when he sees everyone in his home.

“Midarlin’, are we having them all?” he asks, incredulous at the amount of luggage they’ve travelled with.

“Seems so. Shall we put some of them in the coach house? I think Kasey wants to be in the house, though. He’s desperate to be ‘part of the family’ and drink whiskey with you and Jonno. You’ll be famous, Marshall, if he keeps insta’ing you.”

“I hope it does not make me out to be rich. I won’t get a discount in the pub, or the horse sales. They’ll up the prices if I’m famous.” He looks put out about both of his favourite places costing him more money.

As it is, Kasey loves Marshall. Calls him ‘Marsh’ from the off, and they bond over whiskey and cards. Who’d have thought that. He even turns Pinky, Crocket, and Tubbs into Internet sensations.

Marshall gets fed up of people turning up at the yard to meet and greet Pinky. Although he loves the free equine equipment that starts to flow his way, knowing as long as Pinky’s seen modelling it, it’ll keep showing up.

The pony loves the attention, as ever. And the more people, the more she plays up, batting her long white eyelashes and flashing her white mane at everyone. Eamonn’s turned into her favourite, since Kellen has apparently abandoned her, too.

He tells me, “She apologised for butting me, and said I’m her favourite, not Uncle Kellen.” He walks out every morning—an apple for her in one hand, a phone in the other—to show her the latest photos and tell her about the comments she’s gotten overnight. Even the security goats get in on the act when a video of Pinky butting them gently goes viral.

I must be getting more emotional by the day. The more my tummy grows, the more I feel. Watching Eamonn reminds me so much of James and Bucky at that age. Will my twins do the same? Love it here? Love the ponies, the farm, the beach and the people?

And how can I feel so alone surrounded by so many people? But I do. My heart aches, it feels like a physical punch. Each beat feels like it’s bruising my insides. At times I can barely stand it. I struggle to stand, to breathe. I swing from feeling the desperation of want—wanting him to come home—to rage that he’s opted out. Taken the easier road, in my view, and numbing it all out.

How would that feel, to not feel. How would it feel to not care?

But that’s not an option for me. Someone has to feel, someone has to care, as these two babies are the most important thing. They need to feel all my love, they need to feel all my care. I won't let them down, like he’s letting me down, letting us down. Fear is not an option for us.

My tears start as I think about what he’s missing. Why doesn’t he come? I’ve picked up the phone so many times to call, but I can’t break. He has to come because he wants to. Because he wants us. I just hope I’m strong enough for us all.

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