Page 34 of The Story of Me
“Yeah, it’s time, Jim; I’m homesick and missing you all. I’ll probably leave sometime next week.”
“Not before the weekend then?”
“No, not before the weekend; I’m not ready to be facing that. I just… I want to be as far away from all of that madness as possible.”
“I understand. How d’ya plan on spending the day?”
“To be honest, I don’t know. The club Jodie’s been working on has its opening night Saturday and we’ve all been invited down to Sydney for that, but it just seems wrong.”
“Why’s it wrong, George?”
“You don’t think going out clubbing on the one-year anniversary of my husband and child’s death is wrong?” She’s quiet for a few seconds.
“I think you need to do whatever it takes to get you through the day. I think you staying in bed all day and crying is the wrong thing to do, George. You’ve spent almost a year locked away, hiding from life. I think this could be the perfect time for you to get back out in the land of the living, and I couldn’t think of anywhere better for you to do it.”
“What d’ya mean?”
“Well, who’s gonna be expecting you to turn up at a club in Sydney? All eyes are gonna be focused on England: they’ll be looking for you at your mum’s, at the cemetery, where the accident happened. I don’t know. But Australia will be the last place they’ll expect ya to make an appearance, mate.”
“What was that?”
“What?”
“That terrible accent you just put on, was that your attempt at sounding Aussie?”
“Good, weren’t it?”
“If you were trying to sound South African, it was fanfuckingtastic.”
“That’s harsh.”
“That’s honest.”
“So how does Roman sound then; what’s he say when you’re banging his brains out… Fair dinkum Sheila, that feels bonza?”
“Something like that, yeah.”
“Are you still seeing him?”Hmmm, am I?
“I think Roman and I have run our course. He’s a really nice bloke. He’s helped me to no end and the sex has been good, but we both knew it was just a temporary thing or fling, or whatever.”
“But now it’s over?”
“Yeah, I think it is. I hope we can always be friends and I’ll always be grateful for the way he’s helped me, but I’m coming back to England now so it’s the perfect time to end things.”
“You know what, George? I’m so proud of ya. You sound really good, really together.”
I hold in the laugh at this statement. “I’m getting there, Jim; slowly but surely, I’m getting there. Roman’s been a big part of that. And Jackson.” I let out a big sigh as I think about how far I’ve come in the last couple of months; Saturday night’s mishap aside, of course.
“Mmmmm, Jackson; yum. Is he still as hot?” I hear Lennon say something in the background, and Jimmie say, “Only joking, babe; you’re way hotter than your cousin.”
“Yeah, he’s a good-looking bloke, but he’s also like a brother to me so I don’t even think of him that way. Talking of brothers, does mine wanna say hello?”
“He’s desperate to. Let me know as soon as you make plans. I’ll speak to ya before the…” She pauses for a few seconds, unsure of what to call it. “I’ll talk to ya before the weekend, George. Love ya, babe.” She’s gone and I swallow down the emotions bubbling to the surface as I think of this weekend. One year, one long and lonely year.
“Little sister Georgia, how the fuck are ya?”
“I’m good, big brother Lennon. How’s everyone there? What are the boys doing this weekend?” By the boys, I mean the band, but Len knows that. The boys had struggled since Sean’s death; they wanted to go on in his honour, but at the same time, I think they felt guilty, which was something I totally understood. When I left England, they were about to start auditions for a new guitarist and Marley was going to take over vocals. He had a great voice and would have no problem taking centre stage.
