Page 34 of The Story of Us
“Then what for fucks sake? I’m fucking lost George, everything I say is wrong, everything I say sends you off somewhere, I lose you for a few seconds or you look like you’re about to hyperventilate and I have no idea what it is that I’ve said that has caused that.”
I feel terrible, I like him, I really do like him but I have no idea how far I’m willing to take this, if I’m willing to take this any further than a few dates and a few fucks, I’m just a mess and he deserves better.
“It’s a bloke and I’m not over it, I’m not over him, I don’t know if I ever will be, no one else has ever come close. The others, Lee and the other nine I’ve strung along for the last six months were just…” I shrug and look around the room while I try to think of a word. “They were revenge, they were payback. They were me, trying to make myself feel better. They were me being a bad person.”
“And is that what this is? Is that what I am, revenge? You trying to make yourself feel better?”
“No!” I almost shout, because it’s not and I don’t want him to think that.
“No Cam, that’s the problem, I like you, you’re the first.” Fuck, I think I might actually cry, for the first time in four years, I think I might actually cry. I swallow it down. “You’re the first since him that has made me feel anything, the others were nothing, I felt nothing. But you, you’re different and I’m struggling, I’ve never let anyone one in, I’ve not allowed myself to feel, I’ve never even cried… since him, not once.”
He looks at me confused. “When was this, how long ago?”
“Almost four years.”
“You haven’t cried in four years?”
“No,” I say quietly and shake my head.
He comes around the breakfast bar and stands in front of where I’m sitting on the stool, he opens his legs, placing them either side of mine so that he can get closer and wraps his arms around me, pulling my head to his chest. “What the fuck did he do to you baby girl, what did he do? I want you to know, I want to make it better.”
I tilt my head back so I can look at him. “Cam, I really do like you but you need to know, you need to understand.” I pause and shrug, trying to think of how to explain this. “There’s only him, it will always be him, there’s no room for anyone else, wherever we go with this, you need to understand that, my heart is sealed and there’s only him that’s locked inside.”
He closes his eyes for a split second too long, like what I’ve just said has called him physical pain. “But you don’t know me Georgia; you haven’t had a chance to get to know me. If you let me, I will blow your mind baby.”
He smiles at me, a full on sexy smile and I’ve no doubt that he is more than capable of blowing my mind, whether he can blow that wall down that’s around my heart is another thing.
CHAPTER 12
As horny as Cam makes me feel, he doesn’t stay over Saturday night; we talk for a bit longer and arrange to speak during the week. I’ve given him the number to the shop as well as my home, he has no idea what a big deal that is for me, I don’t give any blokes my number, none at all.
I head over to my parents for lunch on Sunday and groan when I see my Mum sweeping the porch as I pull up in the taxi I’ve had to book. Jim picked me up for the dress fittings yesterday so I’ve been able to hide the fact that my car is off the road, until now. My Mum stops what she’s doing and leans on her broom while she watches me pay and get out of the cab.
“Where’s your car George?”
“Hello Mum, these are for you.” I hand her a bunch of carnations, her favourites.
“Oh thanks babe, mmm, they smell beautiful. Where’s your car?”
“Oh I left it at a friend’s last night, because I had too much to drink. He’s going to drop it back later. Is Bailey here?” I ask, noticing my brother’s Range Rover in the drive. I start to head into the house before she can say any more about the car.
“Yeah, he’s in there somewhere, talking business with your Dad.”
The house my parents now live in is a barn conversion, it’s absolutely beautiful, high ceilings and exposed beams; they had to adhere to all kinds of building regulations to get the job done and bring in a few specialists but the end result was spectacular. My favourite thing about it was the galleried landing that ran all around the upstairs, part of the flooring down stairs were 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 as this is where I could hear his and Bailey’s voices coming from, I put my head around the door, they both had their bums perched on the edge of my Dad’s huge desk. Thoughts of Cam and what we had almost done in his office Thursday night popped into my head and my cheeks instantly flushed, my Dad was sipping from a whisky tumbler, Bails was inspecting a shot gun, probably the latest edition to my Dad’s collection. He always kept guns and enjoyed shooting, game and clays but he had got into it even more since they moved. This house was on five acres, he had deer, pheasant and plenty of rabbits out the back, a huge pond and stables where my Mum kept here two horses, well one was mine, but I’d been very negligent lately 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, breathing in the smell of him deeply. 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’m so glad that he did. To me that smell was home, safety, love and security, that smell was, when I was a little girl, how I assumed all Dad’s smelt and I loved it. He held me tight and breathed me in. “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 pull away and give Bailey a cuddle and my head spins as I take in the smell of his Givenchy aftershave. “Big brother Bailey, how are you? I’ve missed ya, you smell lovely.”
He squeezes me so hard I can hardly breathe. “Baby sister Georgia, how the fuck are you? It’s been way too long. Fuck, you’re skinny.”
“Bailey, language please, it’s Sunday.” We all turn and laugh at my Mum; her and my Dad both grew up in Plaistow, my Dad still had a real cockney accent but my Mum spoke much nicer and had always corrected us on our grammar. I never dropped my H’s or said ain’t, grub or gissit… instead of give me it… 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 my mother’s working class roots. I most definitely wasn’t posh but around my Mum, I wasn’t common either, 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 especially 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, 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 family weddings I had attended in the past that it was 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 love most in the world get married. Well it would be agony for me, he 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 got drunk and cried. What hurt me more than anything was the way he’d 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 sorry, maybe things would be different, maybe I would’ve come to terms with things a little better. I don’t know, it was all too much to think about, I had gone to sleep last night wondering if my young, immature, sixteen year old self had just over reacted at the time. Were my expectations of fidelity and faithfulness way too high? I just don’t know and for the rest of today at least, I wasn’t going to think about any of it, or at least try not to.
