Page 75 of The Story of Me
“Well done, Kitten. See, that wasn’t hard, was it?”
I raise my eyebrows, widen my eyes and say to him, “When, in the shower or the bed? Felt pretty hard to me.” He spits his coffee just as Marian is putting mine down in front of me.
“Cameron,” is all she says and fetches a dish cloth to wipe up the mess. Cam sits and stares at me in silence as Marian says, “Oh, by the way, Georgia, I’ve washed and dried your clothes. They’re folded up in the laundry. I’ll just fetch them.”
“Thank you, Marian. I’ll grab them after my breakfast.” Cam is still staring, not saying a word. “What?” I ask.
He gives his usual headshake, “Nothing, nothing at all.”
We eat our breakfast, mostly in silence before I go upstairs and put my own clothes back on. They smell clean and fresh and a little bit like Cam. My belly squirms a little bit as I sit on the edge of the bed and pull on my Uggs.
When I get back downstairs, Cam is in his office and it sounds like he’s talking to Benny. I don’t want to interrupt so I sit at the bench and watch Marian make a lasagne.
“D’ya cook, Georgia?” she asks me.
“Yeah, I do. I actually enjoy cooking.” She turns around and looks at me for a moment and I wonder what she’s thinking.
“You didn’t have someone do the cooking for you then, or a housekeeper or anything, when you were married, I mean?” I instinctively look over my shoulder, wondering if Cam can hear this conversation. A little wave of panic rushes through me, as well as the usual guilt. Is this wrong, sitting here in Cam’s house, talking to his housekeeper about my husband? “Sorry Georgia, I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry…” She folds up a tea towel as she speaks.
“No, no, it’s fine. I… It just feels a bit disrespectful to Cam to be talking about Sean.” I swallow down the ball of emotions rising from my chest to my throat. “It feels a little disrespectful to both of them actually.”
“I lost my first husband. He was killed in a car accident,” Marian states.
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” She nods.
“Thank you. It was a long time ago now, thirty-odd years. He was only twenty-nine. We both were. I at least had my children though. They were a great comfort, and luckily we were well insured, which is a massive help when you’re left on your own with young children to raise.” I watch as she unfolds the same tea towel and then refolds it, finally putting it down next to the sink. “I never imagined I would love anyone again. We’d married at seventeen, known each other our whole lives. He was the other half of me, but just six months after his death, I met Tony and I knew, I knew in an instant there was a connection and I run a bloody mile.” I smile at her admission and nod.
“Well, it’s a bit different with Cam. We were together before, a long time ago.” I blush as I tell her this for some reason.
“Oh, I didn’t realise.” She folds her arms across her chest and leans back against the sink.
“Yeah, we met when I was twenty and were together for a few months, but that ended, and we’ve really only seen each other a few times over the years, but he’s had business dealings with my dad and brother. Then, just by pure chance, we bumped into each other in Australia and everything’s just been a little bit insane since.” She nods her head slowly.
“Look, Georgia, I may be talking out of turn here, but take it from someone who’s been there. Don’t let anyone else tell you that what you’ve got, what you two have found, or rediscovered or whatever with each other, is wrong. There’ll always be spiteful, judgmental people out there, and for you especially, there’ll be millions of them, but take it from me. If you’ve been lucky enough to find love again, then don’t let anyone stand in the way of enjoying it.” She lets out a long sigh. “I feel so lucky to not only have loved, but to have been loved by two amazing men, and I’ve always refused to let anyone make me feel guilty about that, especially in the beginning.” She shakes her head. “I fought it and fought it and then finally, after about six months, I agreed to go on a date with Tony and we were married just two weeks later.” She shrugs and smiles a small smile. “He took on me and my three kids. He stood up to my family, my first husband’s family, and most of our friends when they all told us we were mad and that we’d never last. Thirty-odd years later, I’m as in love with him now as I was on the day we married, probably more so if the truth be told. We had two more kids of our own and he helped raise my three to be polite, well-adjusted adults, who all call him dad.”
“That’s a beautiful story. You’re very lucky,” I tell her.
“All I’m trying to say, Georgia, is to me and to anyone around, it’s obvious you two are in love. Just don’t let anyone come in the way of that and don’t ever feel guilty about it.”
I nod. “I’ll do my best.” I smile, knowing all the while that I will always feel guilty. My circumstances are entirely different to Marian’s and I deserve the guilt that I feel. It sort of makes being with Cam okay, if that at all makes sense?
* * *
I take the opportunity to check my phone when Marian goes upstairs. There’s a text from my mum inviting Cam over for dinner tonight. A dozen disgusting, but highly hilarious texts from Jim and Ash; they both want details of where I am and what I’ve been doing these past couple of days with TDH. Specifically, how much sex and in how many positions? I reply, telling them both ‘lots and think we’ve covered most ;-)’ There’s also a text from Roman, which I’m really surprised to see for some reason.
Hope you’ve landed safely back in Pommie land and that the cold isn’t too much to bear.
Is it wrong that I’m missing you?
Roman x
Oh, I really don’t need to be hearing that right now, even if he does only mean it in a friendly kind of way. I’m going to find it impossible to stand up soon with the weight of all the guilt I’m feeling. Although, I draw the line at feeling any guilt over Roman. We both knew what we were doing was a short term thing. We had decided on that from the very beginning; that’s what made it work for me. I reply with a short message telling him I’m home safely and that the weather is freezing but I’m loving it.
I’m suddenly feeling restless. I wander over to the floor to ceiling windows and take in the view. Cam’s apartment is surrounded by other homes and apartment blocks, with views of Canary Wharf and the River Thames in the distance. This can’t be too far from the warehouse conversion that Sean and Marley own, or that I own now actually. I press my head against the glass, enjoying the cold sensation. I feel anxious and so confused. One minute, I’m decided, and determined Cam and I are going to be together no matter what; the next, I’m doubting my decisions. Can we make it work? Should I slow down a little, take some time, draw breath? I’m thirty-two, widowed, living with my parents despite owning properties in four countries, and right now, at this very moment, I’m totally unsure of where my life is going. I love Cam. I’m in love with Cam and I just don’t seem to be able to see any further than that. It’s like I hit a wall and my thoughts won’t move further and I don’t know why. I want to plan. I want to hope and dream, but I just feel like I daren’t. What if I lose it all again? What if somehow it all gets taken away from me again? Losing everything must be so much easier when you have nothing to lose, and now, now I have so much. I have Cam and love and hope, and if it all gets snatched away again, I know for sure I wouldn’t survive.
The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, my scalp prickles and I know he’s behind me.
“You all right, Kitten?” And that’s what does it. Every time, it’s that question. I can usually hang on until I’m alone. I can hold on long enough to give myself a chance to walk away on the bad days, the days when all I want to do is cry. Until someone asks if I’m okay. My shoulders must shake as I heave a silent sob. “Baby, what’s wrong? Whatever’s wrong?” He turns me around to face him and holds my face in his hands, forcing me to look at him. “Talk to me, Kitten. What the fuck’s wrong? You’re scaring me.” His eyes dart all over my face.
