Page 107 of The Story of Me
“Yep.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yeah, I am.”
“Can I fuck ya anyway?”
“Of course you can.”
Chapter Thirty
I walk out of the television studio on London’s South Bank and see Scott waiting for me. He’s leaning against the black Land Rover with a coffee in each hand.
It’s only ten in the morning. I’ve been here since six being interviewed on breakfast television about this weekend’s events for Sean’s memorial.
I’ve done interviews every day this week, and Marley has been with me for all the others, deflecting anything too personal. I’d made it clear to the TV and radio stations that the interviews were to be focused on the event and the charity, not on me, how I was doing or my relationship with Cam. I hadn’t given a single interview since Sean’s death, so I knew there would be a few arsehole journalists who would try and push the parameters that had been set, but most had been respectful.
The interview I had just done was a little different though. One of the charities the event would be supporting was involved in helping couples conceive if they couldn’t get IVF on the health service. During my research about IVF and surrogacy, I had found there were couples out there who, for various reasons, didn’t meet the health service requirements or had used up the three attempts you were offered and still hadn’t fallen pregnant. Some of these couples had gone on to sell their cars, homes and any other assets they had to try and have a baby. These were the people I wanted to help.
I had discussed beforehand what I was and wasn’t prepared to talk about, but as the interview went on and we talked about the charity and my reasons for supporting it, I had ended up talking first about my ectopic and then loosing Beau and my hysterectomy, which ultimately led me to talking about Sean. The woman carrying out the interview was a favourite of mine. She was married, with children of her own. Her questions weren’t pushy or leading and I opened up to her freely. I discussed the accident, my depression afterwards and how I was now trying to move forward with Cam, whom, I explained, was supporting me every step of the way with events for this coming weekend, many of which were being held in venues owned by him and which he had given the use of free of charge.
I didn’t mean to mention the fact I had undergone IVF. It just sort of slipped out as we were talking about the process. So when she asked me if Cam and I were actively attempting to start a family, I was caught a little off guard. I answered as honestly as I could, without giving too much away.
“Cam and I are hopeful of starting a family of our own, using IVF and a surrogate in the very near future.”
The phone lines to the studio apparently caused the system to go into meltdown, I was told once we were done. Women calling offering their eggs and to be surrogates and people calling in just to wish us luck.
As I walk towards Scott, in the beautiful June sunshine, I’m now wondering if I had done the right thing. Oh, well, if they’re talking about me, they’ll have the event on their minds too. Hopefully, more good would come from my slip up than bad. More people might think about surrogacy or egg donation.
Scott passes me a coffee. “Can you ring the boss please, Georgia. He’s not stopped ringing me.”
“Thanks, Scott, yeah, I’ll do it now. Can you take me to Len’s office, please?”
“Of course.”
I usually rode in the front of the car, but I wanted a little privacy when I made my call to Cam. Our week together had been a little strange. He was busy catching up with all the work he’d neglected while he was in Australia and making sure everything was organised for the weekend at his various venues around the world. I was busy with last minute arrangements and interviews.
We had ended up using the Docklands apartment the rest of the week as we were both out so early and home so late. The last two nights I had only had three-hours sleep, and this morning I was leaving just as Cam got home.
We hadn’t had sex since Monday night, which was unheard of for us, and most of our conversations had been conducted over the telephone, and as much as I was missing him, I was also a little pissed off with him. He’d left some court papers on the desk in his office Thursday, and when I went in there to use the computer last night, I saw them. It would seem that Tamara was being released into a care in the community program today and Cam had been to court to apply for full custody of Harry, without evendiscussing it with me. I hadn’t let on that I knew any of this. I was just going to sit tight and wait for him to tell me in his own time.
I turn on my phone. I had to have it switched off in the studio as the signal can affect the mics. My screen lights up and I can see I have a number of missed calls and messages, most of them being from Tamara. I will deal with them after I speak with Cam. I press call against his name and wait to hear his voice. Pissed off or not, the man still sets my pulse racing.
“Kitten, fuck, I’ve missed you.” I’m not sure if it’s tiredness or the interview I just did but tears automatically spring to my eyes.
“I miss you, too. Did you go into work?”
“No, I… Kitten, look, I’m just about to go into court. I’m trying to get some kind of temporary custody order put in place for the baby. Wendy, the nurse, found a pipe in Tamara’s room. She left it there while she called me, but it was gone when she came back. She gets released this afternoon and I really don’t trust her with my son.”
I’m silent for a few seconds.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?” I meant that he should’ve shared the fact that he had all of this going on and was obviously worried about his son. If Tamara was already using again, I had no issue with Cam applying for full custody. Cam obviously thought that I meant something different by my question.
“I didn’t realise I needed to ask your permission to keep my son safe.”
“That’s not what I meant at all.”
“I need to go. I’m next.” He ends the call before I can say anymore. I close my eyes for a few seconds. I don’t know what to do. Should I leave him to do what needs to be done at court or should I go there and show my support?
