Page 17 of Marley
“That’s right.” She said with a smile and proceeded to spell out her name. She was definitely older than the other girls were ... much more groomed and better put together. Having a guess, I would’ve said she was about twenty-five. Older than most of our fans, but an average age for a groupie, although I wasn’t sure if that’s what she was. I was suddenly on alert.
“So, what’s a nice girl like you doing slumming it in a pub like this?” I asked her.
“I could ask you boys the same thing.” Her reply was followed by a nervous laugh.
“Press,” I said to Maca as he leant across the pool table to break.
His head swung up to look from me to the woman standing between us. He looked back along the pool table and potted a stripe. Standing up straight, he gripped the cue with both hands.
“Fuck off,” he said to her, gesturing with his head towards the door.
“Wh-what?” She looked between us, her mouth hanging open.
“Oh come on, boys, give a girl a break,” she pleaded.
“Give you a break?” I asked. “Do you have any idea the damage you lot have done to us, my family, and our band?”
She looked down at the ground for a few seconds, then back up, looking back and forth between Maca and me.
“Look, I know some of it was a bit rough on your sister, but that wasn’t me. I’m not that kind of reporter.”
“There’s only one kind of reporter,” Maca told her. “The cunt kind. Now fuck off before I get Jock to throw you out.”
She held her hands up as if she was surrendering.
“Look, I’m gonna go to the bar and get a drink. I just want a few words from you. I don’t wanna ask questions about what happened in France or anything to do with that.” She looks between us. “Just a little something about the success of the album, the sell-out tour, and how you’re coping with it all. Maybe something about what you’ve got coming up next year? Please, just think about it?”
We both stood and watched her hips sway as she walked to the bar. I had to adjust my dick in my jeans. I hadn’t had a shag since the tour ended, and I was more than a little desperate.
“She’s got a nice arse,” I said quietly.
“What the fuck has that gotta do with anything?” Maca turns back around, takes his second shot and misses. “Your spots.”
“I know. What if we do her a deal?” I pot one spot, followed by another.
“What type of deal?” he asked, his eyebrows drawn together.
I stood up straight and passed him the cue back after missing my third shot. “I dunno ... a blowie or summit? I’m gagging for a shag.”
“You’regagging for a shag? How d’ya think I feel? It’s been four months and three countries since your sister left Spain, and I last got my leg over.”
I took a step back from him. “Dude, do you know how seriously happy my life would be if I never had to talk, or even think about you shagging my sister again? Like, ever?”
He laughed and took his shot. It was good to see him smile. I know that he’d made a point of making sure that Jimmie knew the phone number and address of our new flat, but there had still been no contact from George.
“Was she doing anything special tonight, d’ya know?” He took his shot while asking. I knew it was so that he didn’t have to make eye contact with me as he talked about her.
“My mum said that she didn’t want any fuss made. She has college tomorrow.” I tell him what I know.
“How’s college going for her?” He took another shot, still not looking my way.
“All good, I think. You know George. She and Len are the brains of the family.”
Unable to avoid me anymore, his eyes met mine. “She seeing anyone?”
I shook my head. “I honestly don’t know, mate. She’s not spoken to me since she left Spain. Jim, Len, Mum, and Dad, only tell me what she wants me to know.”
He looked down at his feet before picking up his bottle and finishing the contents.
