Chapter 18 #2
“Anyway, when I started at the shop, working closer with George and Bernie, I was jealous at first,” I admit.
“Watching how close Georgia and Bern were, watching the dynamic between them. I never had that with my mum. Never really had any kind of relationship with her. But watching them two together made me miss something I’d never had, and I think Bern saw that.
And do you know what she did? She gave me more.
More hours at the shop, a bigger clothing allowance, and more responsibility.
She encouraged me to speak a bit more proper, not to drop my Hs, and to stop saying ain’t, but she also gave me a chance. ”
“You earned that chance. You were bloody good at your job,” Georgia interjects.
I don’t argue because I was good, and I did work bloody hard.
“But she went beyond that, G, your mum. Easter, Christmas, my birthday, any bank holiday, I always got an invite. Even before I was with Marley, you lot made me feel part of the family when a lot of people around here back then wouldn’t have given me the time of day.”
“My mum loves you and threatened to castrate me if I hurt or upset you when we got together,” Marley says, making me smile through the tears threatening to spill from my eyes.
“I know she loves me. Your mum made sure I knew, and she made sure I felt loved.” I turn back to Daniel. “Getting Marley’s mum, dad, and sister to love me was a lot easier than getting him to love me, or at least to admit to it,” I say while thumbing in my husband’s direction.
“I loved you easily enough. Too easily. After spending years thinking I was never gonna have what Maca and George, and Lennon and Jim had, I was suddenly confronted with the fact that I could, and I had no fucking control over it. I shit myself.”
“No, you got on a plane and got as far away from me as possible,” I remind him.
“That was after I shit myself,” he says, somehow keeping a straight face.
I respond with a headshake.
“And it wasn’t you. You were great, fucking gorgeous, perfect. It was my feelings and what I felt for you that I was running away from,” Marley admits. “After her twenty-first, she stayed at my place for the weekend. I even cooked her my favourite dish—”
“Shepherd’s pie,” every member of my extended family calls out.
“It’s the only dish he knows how to make,” I tell Daniel.
“One more than George,” Len adds, making us all laugh, because it’s true.
“Oh, do fuck off, the lot of ya.” G rolls her eyes while shaking her head.
“You can’t cook?” Daniel asks her.
“Put it this way, the only thing we ask her to bring to gatherings is napkins or alcohol,” Marley answers, confirming G’s lack of culinary skills, prompting her to give the whole room each of her middle fingers again.
“It wasn’t then. You didn’t make me shepherd’s pie then. It was the next time I was there, when I got sick,” I correct him.
“Was it?” Marley asks with a frown. “Anyway, she stayed at mine till Sunday night. We met for lunch a couple of times that week. All of this dating stuff was totally alien to me, but I was loving it, anyway… until she just ghosted me.”
“Dramatic, much? I didn’t ghost him. I got sick. Like the worst flu I’d ever had. I called in sick at work but had no number for Marley, so I couldn’t let him know,” I explain.
“I found out she was sick from the girl at the shop, but she wouldn’t give me her address or a number to contact her on, so I had to ask my sister,” Marls adds.
“He forced me to break employer-employee confidentiality and give him her address,” Georgia adds.
“I hardly forced you. You really do exaggerate sometimes,” he argues.
I smile as my world-famous rock star husband bickers with his world-famous sister like any other siblings do on any given day.
“I got her address, went to the shops, got her some Lucozade and flowers, chocolate, cold and flu shit, then took it to hers.”
I squeeze Marley’s hand. I have every confidence my husband isn’t about to reveal the squalor he found me living in, but the memory of the level of mortification I felt when he found me that day has me holding on for dear life anyway.
“She was a mess—really unwell. The place she was in was a bit cold and drafty, so I called Milo, and we packed up her stuff, and I moved her into mine so I could look after her. I called a doctor out. He confirmed all sorts, including laryngitis, as well as ear and chest infections. I think she slept for about two days straight. It took her another week to finally function again.”
“And I just want to clarify, not once, during any of that time, did he do anything other than look after me and cook me shepherd’s pie,” I tell them.
“Marley Layton, rock god. I’d been seeing this bird right here for a couple of weeks, had her sleeping in my bed, staying at my place, looking after her while she was sick, cooking for her, and hadn’t even got a leg over.
And despite all of that, I fell fucking hard.
She didn’t care who I was, wasn’t interested in the fame or the money I might have.
She was just happy to lie on my sofa and watch films with me all day and all night. ”
I catch my husband’s eye, we both smile, and with perfect synchronicity say, “Yup, yup, yup,” as we recall watching The Land Before Time together, and years later, watching it with our kids. Now, with both our girls pregnant, we’re patiently waiting to watch it with our future grandkids.
“She wasn’t fussed about dressing up and being seen out with me. She was the opposite of every woman I’d been around for the four years previous. She was perfect, and I was a pussy,” Marley says, his voice dropping to almost a whisper.
“I was a fuck up, and even though I’d promised her during those couple of weeks that I wouldn’t let her down like everyone else had, I knew eventually I would. So, I thought I might as well get it done sooner rather than later when we’d both get really hurt.”
“Such a fucking idiot,” Georgia grumbles.
“I know. I completely fucked up and nearly lost the only girl I’ve ever loved.”
“Aw, I’m loving this,” Kiki calls out from behind us.
“So, I left her sleeping in my bed and got on a plane. I went to Paris first, but it was too close. I was still tempted, and it would’ve been too easy to fly back to her.”
I get a ringing in my ears, probably caused by my blood pressure rising as I recall waking up that morning and finding him gone, having left nothing but a note telling me I could stay until one of his team found me a new place.
One of his team? One of his fucking team?
I must twitch or fidget because Marls turns to look at me.
“I stayed drunk for about three days so I wouldn’t be allowed on a plane, then sobered up enough to fly to the States. I went out to all the places we usually avoided and made sure the paps snapped me with a different bird on my arm every night.”
“What were you thinking during all of this? When you woke up and found him gone?” Daniel asks through the alarm going off in my head.
“Murder, whether I had enough saved to pay someone else or if I’d have to do it myself.”
A ripple of laughter rolls through the room, but I’m not laughing. Not even a little bit.
“I was hurt and humiliated. Right before he left, we’d finally slept together, and I just thought he’d go running back to Maca and tell him he’d finally got into my knickers. Mac would then tell G, and the whole family would sit around the table—”
“Plotting his end,” Lennon interrupts. “Marley’s, I mean. You wouldn’t have had to pay for a hit or have done it yourself because all of us would’ve been lining up to do it for you if we’d have known back then that’s what he’d done.”
“Aw, thanks, Len.” I blow my brother-in-law a kiss. “You always were my favourite Layton brother.”
“Yeah, thanks, bruv. Nice one,” Marley adds with more than a hint of sarcasm in his voice as he holds two thumbs up.
“You’re welcome.” Len grins.
“As clarification seems to be playing a big part in all of these confessions, I’d like it known that I didn’t touch any of those women I was photographed with.”
“Then, why’d you do it?” Daniel asks.
“Yeah, Marls, why’d you do it?” I ask my husband.
“I was the family fuck-up. I didn’t think. I thought she was too perfect, and I didn’t feel worthy of her love,” Marley answers quietly.
The room, which had been light and full of banter just a few moments ago, is now quiet as we all look Marley’s way.
“I ran before I could do something to hurt her, which in turn would hurt me.”
“Doing that hurt me. Thankfully, there was no internet back then, but it took less than a week for magazines to publish pictures of you, arm-in-arm, with one supermodel or another. I was devastated at first, then I was angry. I lied to his family and said things just didn’t work out.
Jim and Len’s wedding was coming up. I knew he would be there and assumed he’d bring one of the long-legged birds he’d been photographed with, so I told Jim I was bringing my ex, who I’d recently reconnected with. ”
Feeling hungover and not expecting to be put in front of the camera, I’d put my hair up in a messy bun this morning. Recalling the emotions I went through back then still manages to make me anxious all these years later. I push my fingers through my hair and loosen the scrunchy holding it up.
“He wasn’t my ex, the bloke I was bringing with me. I made that up to save face. He was just some random I’d met in the pub, had a drink with him, then asked if he wanted to be my plus one to a celebrity wedding.”
“But before all of that, what else did you do?” Marley interrupts.
“Don’t ever cross Ash,” G warns the room from beside me, and I don’t know why, but I instantly search out Makenzie Wild, who’s been taking photos of all of us while we’ve been talking.
I lick my dry lips and give my best evil smile. “Marley, the silly boy, left me the key to his apartment. So, feeling hurt and angry by his actions, I got busy,” I explain, using a tone that makes it sound like what I did was perfectly normal.