Page 65 of Marley
I looked across to Maca, but his eyes were firmly on my mum.
“She phoned up and said that she’d heard through some friends that Georgia had been asking around for the address. She said that she was concerned that George had found out about them being together and was worried for her own safety.”
“This is un-fucking-believable,” Maca said quietly.
“You were doing so well, George. You’d got your confidence back and was smiling again. I just thought it would be easier to tell everyone not to tell you where the boys were living. I was just trying to do the right thing...” She trailed off once more.
My dad reached across and took my mums hand, his actions causing yet another lump to form in my throat. When you’re growing up, your parents are only ever that, ‘Mum and Dad.’ You don’t think of them as husband and wife, a couple, and definitely not lovers, but as you get older, you appreciate what they are to each other—that once upon a time, they were young and in love.
I love my wife even more now than I did when I first admitted that fact to myself. I fancy her more too and know that no matter what, I would have her back. There’s nothing she could ever do to make me doubt her. She’s my lover, wife, and best friend, and there’s no one that could ever replace her in my world, nor would I want there to be. I’m pretty sure that’s how things were for my parents too. My dad would support my mum whether he thought she’d fucked up or not, and that was exactly how it should be.
“You should have said something ... you should have saidsomething,Bern.”
“To who, Frank? If I’d told you and Bailey, you’d probably have gone after Sean. And if I’d said anything to Marley, Lennon, or Jimmie, it could’ve caused trouble for the band.” She told him.
“What about me? Did you never consider talking to me?” George asked her.
“No, George. In all honesty, I didn’t.” She sounded adamant that she made the right call, but I wasn’t so sure.
“You’d been fragile for so long. There was no way I’d chance setting you back. You’d been so badly broken by what you thought went on in that hotel, that I was terrified that if you found out Sean had been two-timing you for years, it might just kill you. I’m your mother, it’s my job to protect you at all costs.”
“Well, you fucked right up on that score, didn’t you.” Georgia bit out. “All you’ve managed to do is cause me untold misery these past four years.” I watched as George took Bailey’s glass from his hand and tipped the contents down her throat. She didn’t even drink bourbon, but she was giving it a good go tonight.
“What I’m failing to understand is this story about George going to the boys’ place, trying to get in and causing a scene. What’s that all about?” Jimmie asked my mum.
“Well, that’s when alarm bells should’ve started to ring.” She replied.
“No shit, Sherlock.” Bailey whispered loudly.
“Do you remember, Jim, when that magazine did that big feature on your wedding, and in the interview, the reporter asked if it was gonna be awkward having Georgia and Sean there together?” We all nodded. Jimmie had been a nervous wreck. She and Len were quite often photographed out with the band, but they were never stalked individually the way that Maca and I were. They were never front and centre of the attention the press paid us, and Jim was worried that by doing the interview and allowing photos of them to be used for the feature, that would all change.
“Well, this Mandy, the girl that claimed she was Maca’s secret girlfriend, called me and said that Georgia had found out where the boys lived and had gone to their place and tried to get past security. They’d threatened to call the police, but she’d convinced them not to and explained that George was Marley’s sister. She said that Georgia was obviously in need of psychiatric help, and that Sean wanted her kept away from him, including at the wedding.”
Shit, I vaguely remember my mum calling me and banging on about that. I was severely hungover and had two birds—twins, if I recall—in bed with me. I actually couldn’t get my mum off the phone quick enough and the call was instantly forgotten.
My brain was in overdrive ... Mandy? I know we’ve fucked around with a lot of birds over the years, but I don’t remember a Mandy.
“I swear to God, this has nothing to do with me. I don’t know any birds called Mandy.” Maca states, all the while looking at me for backup.
I think I mumbled something along the lines of, “No, no Mandy,” all the while shaking my head and thinking, ‘Do we know a Mandy?’
My mum was talking, but the words weren’t getting in as I tried to think of anyone we’d banged over the years that had stalkerish tendencies, but I came up blank. Well, apart from—
My mouth dropped open. My eyes caught Jimmie’s, and much like mine, her mouth was hanging open.
Oh shit.
“When Marley and Sean came to the house with those girls, all you kept repeating, Georgia, was ‘how could he? She looks just like her.’ I eventually realised that it was the girl you had the problem with, not Sean.”
I felt like I was drowning; choking and suffocating, all while suffering a coronary. I wanted my mum to shut up. I didn’t want her to tell George who it was behind this. She’d blame me. I started the ball rolling by inviting the crazy bitch back to our hotel room. I’d just got my sister back in my life, now I was about to lose her again and possibly my best mate too.
“I made them for you, George.” My mum’s voice broke into my panicked thoughts. “Every piece of news on the boys, I kept and put it in a scrapbook in the hopes that one day, you’d be able to look at it.”
My mum wiped a tear from under each of her eyes and I think in that moment, we were all torn. Even George looked sorry for my mum, and then her expression changed. My sister was a clever girl, and her brain was beginning to put the pieces together. I knew in that instant that my sister had started to think exactly along the same lines as I was. I watched as she covered her mouth with her hand. Her wide eyes swung from mine to Jimmie’s, and then back to my mum. I felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room, and we were all just barely managing to breathe.
“I kept the good stuff and the bad stuff.” My mum continued with the words that I dreaded, that would potentially isolate me from my family once again.
“All of the newspaper pictures and articles, even old song lyrics. I kept them. I sat and went through them all until I found what I was looking for.” My mum looked at my dad, tears rolling down her face as he held her hand tightly. “That’s when I realised I’d made an almighty fuck up.” She sobbed out.
