The Story Of Us - Jones Lesley - Страница 53

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I shake my head at him. “You are such a song writer, hark at all this shit.”

In one swift move, he throws me down on the bed, pinning me underneath him. “What I just said is not shit G; I mean every word of it. One way or another, we’re gonna find our way back to each other. One way or another I was gonna fight and win you back, even if I died doing it.”

He rakes his hand through his hair and his fingers meet mine. “Fuck G, the things that have gone through my mind, the things I’ve thought of doing to try and see ya and then, everything else, the band, touring, the fuckin’ press up my arse all the time. It’s been a nightmare. There’ve been times, when I seriously thought that I was gonna go mental, that I was actually gonna end up in the nut house.”

My eyes wander over his face, hating but at the same time feeling overjoyed that he’d pretty much gone through the exact same emotions I had for the last four years.

We eventually make our way down to the kitchen around midday and that’s only because Sean is complaining that he’s starving, my stomach is still too all over the place to even consider food; there’s a note taped to the fridge.

Morning young lovers

Help yourselves to food, shower, whatever.

Stay as long as you want, you know that you’re always welcome.

Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do, although,

Judging by the sounds coming from the bedroom in the early hours of this morning, the deed’s already been done.

We love you both so very much and truly hope you can work things out.

If you need to hide out here for a while that’s fine with us.

George, ring me, Maca, I’ve cancelled all your appointments until next Wednesday.

Luv ya’s

J & L

X

For some reason, the note made me teary but I managed to swallow them down as I pulled out a frying pan to make Sean some fried eggs on toast. It was just a natural thing to do. I made his tea exactly how he liked it, strong, no sugar; he liked his yokes runny and his toast well done, three eggs, three slices of toast, well-buttered and a dollop of HP sauce on the side, oh and white pepper and salt on his eggs. White pepper, never black on his fried eggs.

He sat in silence as he watched me prepare his food, his lips twitching up into a smile at every individual thing that I remembered; when I set it all down in front of him, he said, “Come here.”

I walked around to where he was sat at the breakfast bar, he opened his legs and pulled me between them, he wrapped his arms around my waist, and I wrapped mine around his neck. “Do you have any idea the affect you remembering all of that had on my heart?”

I smile at him and shake my head. “No, but I can feel the affect that it’s had on your dick.”

He’s still only wearing his boxers and I’m still only wearing his t-shirt. He slides his hands underneath it and grabs my bum cheeks and pulls me in closer to him. “Georgia, baby, you cooking me eggs on toast has fuck all to do with my hard on, the fact that you exist is enough to do that.”

He tilts his head and gives me that lazy lopsided grin, the one that had me falling head over heels in love with him, nine very long years ago. “But you remembering exactly how I like my eggs on toast, right down to the white pepper and HP sauce, that’s got my heart beating in a way that it hasn’t in four very long and lonely years.”

I don’t know why I say it, but it’s out before I think too much about it… “Oh I’m sure you’ve had no shortage of women to make you eggs on toast and to make things hard for you over the last four years and I bet those years have been anything but lonely.”

His face falls and I instantly regret what I’ve just said, he swallows hard and strokes over my cheekbone with the back of his hand. “Oh Georgia Rae, you have no idea, no fuckin’ idea.”

He pulls me in and takes a big sniff of my hair. “I smell of fried egg,” I complain.

“Na, you smell like Gia, you smell like home, you smell like exactly where I want to spend the rest of my life.”

I swallow back the next round of tears threatening to escape and just say. “Eat your breakfast before its stone cold.”

He smacks my arse as I turn and go to fetch my cup of tea from where I left it over by the kettle. I come back and sit on the stool next to him and watch him eat as I sip my tea. “Why are you not eating G?’

I shake my head. “I don’t think I could keep anything down.”

“Why, what’s wrong?” He asks with a frown.

“Nothing, just… ” I shrug, “I don’t know, just all of this.”

I gesture between us. “You, me, my Mum, the circumstances, it’s just got my head spinning and my belly back flipping, I really don’t think I could keep anything down right now.”

“Just a bit of toast?” he asks.

“No.” I shake my head.

“G, baby, please don’t take this the wrong way but you really need to put on a bit of weight.” I don’t take it the wrong way; I know that I’m way to skinny. I’m not short at five feet eight and the last time I weighed myself I was just over eight stone, a whole stone lighter than I was a couple of years ago. I’d gained a couple of pounds these last few months since I’d been seeing Cam, but I still needed to gain more.

Cam, shit, I need to speak to him, he’ll be worrying himself sick about where I am, but I also need to end things between us. Don’t know how he’ll take that and oddly enough, I’m not really sure how I’m feeling about it either.

“G, you okay, I haven’t upset you with that have I?” Sean brings me back from my Cam dilemma.

“What? No, no. I know I’ve lost weight, too much work, gym, clubbing.” I shrug. “I was skinnier, but Cam’s been good for me, I’ve put… ” I stop as soon as I realise what I’m saying.

“So is Cam the boyfriend?” he asks, looking right into my eyes, I nod.

“I’ll have to call him today, he’ll be worried.”

“Don’t let me stop ya.” His eyes have lost their spark.

“Please don’t, I need to call him and I need to see him, he’s a nice bloke and he’ll be worrying about where I was all night.”

“You live together?”

“No, no but he’s got a key. I was out with him last night, we had a row, I stormed off and left him in the restaurant and jumped in a taxi and came here.”

“So I have Cam to thank for you falling into my arms last night?” he asks with a smirk.

I suppose he does. “If that’s the way you want to look at it, then yeah, you do.”

“G, where you and he are concerned, I don’t want to look at it at all, but, ya know, we’ve been apart, it’s been four years, I get it.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I hate the idea of it but I get it.”

He reaches out and brings my hand to his lips and kisses first the back, then turns it over and kisses my palm, then licks and kisses the inside of my wrist. He lets go and stands from his stool and takes his plate and cutlery over to the dishwasher. I know Sean, I know him inside out and I know exactly where he’s going now, even before he says, “I need the bog, you make your calls then come and join me in the shower.”

I smile and shake my head. “In one end and out the other, some things never change do they babe?”

He grins a cheeky grin at me and shrugs. “What can I say G? It’s the way I’m made.”

I watch him as he walks out of the kitchen, a few seconds later, he’s back and stood between my legs as I still sit on the stool, he tucks my hair behind my ears and my belly and my eyelids both flutter at his touch. “When you speak to Cam, be gentle with him.” He looks over my face and gives a slight nod. “I know first-hand, how fuckin’ awful it is to lose you.” He tilts his head, kisses me gently on the lips and turns and heads for the bathroom.

I sit for a moment longer and look over at the phone; my mind is in a complete whirl, for some reason thoughts of my Mum’s tumble drier come into my head. When we all lived at home, it always seemed to be full of socks, lots and lots of socks, different sizes, different colours, all going around and around and that’s exactly how my head feels right now and every one of those socks represents a thought and each of those thoughts are scrambling for attention in my brain and I have no idea where to start. I swallow down the last of my tea and pick up the phone, I call my flat first and see if Cam picks up but there’s no answer. I let it go to answer phone and call out for Cam to pick up if he’s there but still no answer, I call his flat but there’s no answer there so I leave a short message on his machine. I knew he wouldn’t be at either of the first two places, I’m just delaying the inevitable, it’s one o’clock on a Friday afternoon, there’s only one place he’ll be and that’s the office at the wine bar. He picks up on the second ring.

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