Page 31 of The Story of Me
“Yeah, but he said he spoke to ya.”
“Yeah, he did. I don’t think my texts were making much sense.” I need Bailey to be honest when he answers the question I’m about to ask him, but I actually don’t know if I want to hear the answer. “Why’d he panic? Bails, does he know? Does he know what I did? Does he know about my time in the psych unit?” I know the answer’s going to be yes.
“I just told ya, George, me and him had a few beers when you were, you know, when you weren’t coping.”
“Bailey, you can say it. We both know what I did, when I tried to top myself.” My face burns with shame as I say the words.
“Yeah, then.” There’s a few seconds of silence. “Anyway, yeah, he sort of told me how he’d turned to drink and drugs and how in the end, his family stepped in. They had him put into some rehab place by force, and it was the best thing ever for him. He hated it and he hated them for a while, too, ya know, for doing it to him, but he said it’s what needed to be done.” He’s quiet for a second again. “Did you know all this about him, George, about Cam?”
I nod, remembering the day Benny came to fetch me, when I found Cam in such a mess. “You remember that day I went off with Benny, and you all thought Cam had kidnapped me?”
“When you still lived in the flat above the shop?”
I smile at the memory of that place. “Yeah, when I had the welcoming party from Hell waiting for me.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, Benny had come and got me cos Cam had relapsed. When I got to his place, he was out of it on coke and booze. He was collapsed in the shower when I got there. I tried to sort him out, but he was too big and heavy for me to move.” I let out a long breath, remembering the mess he had gotten himself in, remembering him telling me he loved me, remembering the absolute panic in his voice when he thought they were going to lock him up again. Him screaming at his brother and Benny to get me out, to not let me see him in that state. I close my eyes for a few seconds, trying to get those thoughts out of my head. “His brother turned up and he and Benny got him into bed and cleaned the place up; you know, the place he had above the wine bar?”
“Yeah, yeah, he’s still got it, I think. He just moved his office out, that was all.”
“Does he still own the wine bar?’
“Yep, he’s never sold it, despite the success of ‘Kittens’.” My stomach churns.
“Kittens?”
“Yeah, the chain of clubs he has.”
“He has a chain?”
“Yeah, you went to the opening night of the first one in Shoreditch the other year. Don’t you remember when you punched that bird’s lights out and it was in all the papers?” My jaw clenches at the mention of Whorely.
“I thought that club was called KK’s or something like that?”
“It is, Kitten and King’s, but everyone calls it KK’s. He’s got three of them on the go in England now, and he’s just opened one in Ibiza and one in Madrid.”
He’d called the club Kittens and I didn’t even know. I’d fucked him in his office, in a club he’d named after me, and I didn’t even know.
“You still there, George?”
“Yeah, yeah, sorry, I’m just tired.”
“D’ya want me to call ya back tomorrow?”
“Na, na, I’m fine. So yeah, anyway, his brother Robbie turned up,” I continue to tell Bailey about what I had found out about Cam’s past from his brother that day.
We end the call a while later, with him assuring me he won’t inform our parents or brothers of what had happened last night. God, if any of them knew the actual truth, I’d be packed in a crate and shipped back to England in a flash. I wasn’t quite ready for that yet.
It’s getting late and I’m tired, but I want to talk to Cam. I just want to put his mind at rest and thank him for his concern. That’s all.
That. Is. All.
I find his number and press call, my stomach in knots. It’s Sunday morning in England, and I wonder if he will be up yet… And alone.
“Kitten, what the fuck’s going on? Are you okay? What was wrong last night, and don’t tell me nothing.”
“Fuck, Tiger, you’ll let me get a word in edgeways, won’t ya?” I hear him sigh and I know, I just know he’s shaking his head. My heart likes that I know that about him and does a little skip and a dance in my chest. “Stop shaking your head at me.” I hear him laugh, a little laugh, not his big, head thrown back, boom of a laugh, but it makes my heart let me know it still has life pulsing through it, and it stirs something in my belly.
