Chapter 21 #6
Except what I’ve got now with Cam, which is equally as special, equally as fierce, yet entirely different.
The images flash by, including us with my parents—Sean didn’t want his mum and stepdad there, only his dad, Ritchie—photos with the band, my family, many of which I’ve never seen before.
All of us who were there that day, along with my husband and kids, watch on silently as image after image of what was, back then, the happiest day of my life flash by.
Then comes the video.
We’d booked the entire restaurant at the Tradewinds Resort where we’d married, and they’d supplied a DJ for the evening.
Our first dance was “Georgia”, a specially recorded version sung by my brand-new husband.
Our second, “English Rose”. This wasn’t sung by my husband but the original Jam version, with Paul Weller on vocals.
As I watch us dance, I wonder if there will be footage of what came next.
Before our last-minute decision to get married, we’d decided that while Sean and the band stayed in the States to do press, a couple of photo shoots, and meet and greets, I’d go home with the rest of my family.
I had kitchen renovations booked in, as well as a refurb of the ensuite at the house in Hampstead we’d bought when we first got back together.
The band had most of the next year off, and we’d decided to travel, then come home and try for a baby.
I didn’t want to leave him in America so soon after our wedding, but we still had five more days together before a week apart. By the time he was home, it’d be nearly Christmas, and then we could head off and have our real honeymoon.
Because he knew we’d be spending a week apart, Sean had requested a third slow dance, and the DJ and our guests had obviously been in on it.
I thought by the end of our second dance, everyone would get up to join us.
Instead, the lights went down, everyone stayed in their seats, and as “Babe”, the old school version by Styx started to play, a spotlight came up and shone down on Sean and me.
I watch the video with a small laugh and a shake of my head. It’d become a bit of a theme song for us—something he’d sing to me every time he travelled without me. I watch the screen as he leans in and sings about how it’s me who keeps him going when he’s tired, weary, and had enough.
Tears burn at my eyes. My chest feels tight, and my throat is filled with a huge ball of emotion.
“Fucking hell, he was such a romantic fucker,” Marley chokes out.
Then Jimmie draws in a shaky breath, and we all break.
My tears fall silently, but I can’t control the way my lips and jaw tremble.
Marley’s sob is the loudest, but when I turn to my brother, I see Ash has already got him.
Lennon has already pulled Jimmie into his side, too, and is about to do the same to me, when Cam appears in front of me.
Taking my hand, he kneels, then pulls me down into his lap, and just like he’s done so many times, over so many years, he holds me while I cry over the love I had for another man.
A different man I loved in a different life.
We stay that way for a minute or so until I can catch my breath and the tears stop falling.
“That even got me choked up,” Cam says into my ear, making me smile despite the sadness still lingering.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I tried to cry silently so you wouldn’t worry.”
“I was more worried you was gonna knock the fucker out when he kept banging on about why you didn’t get married earlier.”
“Hmm. Yeah, he was definitely pushing my buttons.”
After a few minutes, I’ve composed myself enough to sit back up on the sofa. Marley and Ash have disappeared, but Len and Jim have stayed.
Chastity appears with her box of tricks, and once again, magically fixes my face. By the time she’s worked on Jim and added a bit of something to Len’s puffy eyes, Ash and Marley are back.
He looks terrible.
“You okay?” I ask my brother.
“Not even a little bit,” he replies, and then Cam, ever the saviour, appears at his side.
“Hair of the dog, mate,” he says, handing a whiskey tumbler containing amber liquid to him, and another to Lennon.
“Cheers, mate,” they say in unison, before leaning across Ash and me to knock their glasses together.
“To Mac,” they say, while I draw in another deep breath in preparation for whatever the rest of the day might be about to bring.
Once we’ve regained our composure, Cam has kissed me thoroughly and told me, yet again, that we can shut this shit down any time I like. “Just say the word and I’ll fuck the lot of them off out of here… starting with Danny Boy, over there.”
I’ve assured him I’m okay to carry on, so he eventually leaves me again, and without a word, Daniel presses play.
“Babe” ends, and Dire Straits’, “Romeo and Juliet” starts to play.
Finally, everyone else gets up and starts to dance.
After that, I dance with my dad while Sean dances with my mum, then I dance with Sean’s dad.
Once those dances finish, the party finally begins.
My maxi dress is hoisted up to my thigh and tied in a knot in the corner, and I spend the night dancing with my brothers, my husband, my besties, and all of our Carnage family.
We do the “Okie Cokie” and heel toe around the room to “March of the Mods” with the kids, my parents, and all of the band family, followed by Marley and me performing our usual stellar rendition of Elton and Kiki’s “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart”.
My dad gave us “On A Slow Boat To China”, followed by the lot of us joining him in a loud and emotional version of “I’m Forever Blowing Bubbles”.
The wait and bar staff all watch on in apparent confusion. They’d obviously never been to a good ol’ East End knees up before.
Then a few paparazzi shots of Sean and me appear on the screen in various countries over the course of 1999, when we spent almost eight months travelling the world, including me standing up on a surfboard at Bondi that I’ve never seen before.
The next image takes me by surprise.
It’s Cam and me.
His arm is around me, his big hand spread over my hip as he pulls me into his side. He’s smiling at the camera while I’m wide-eyed and looking up at him.
“What a pair of hotties,” Harry calls out, followed by a long whistle.
“Worldies,” one of my girls agrees.
“Is that the night…?” My stomach pitches, wondering what Ash is about to say. “You had that little run in with Whorely White?”
“Yeah. We went to the opening night of a new club, and it wasn’t till we got there that we found out it was one of Cam’s,” Jimmie, ever on the ball, jumps in to explain.
“So, you stayed in touch after you got back with Sean?” Daniel aims his question at me.
I’m angry now but keep my voice calm. “No. I think I ran into Cam two, maybe three times in about twelve years, and this was one of them.”
Daniel nods, and I want to say more. Is he waiting for me to say more? I can’t help myself, so I jump in.
“Obviously, the press had an absolute riot with that shot. We were just standing at the bar when the pap appeared,” I start to explain.
“I’d invited a select few in for just an hour,” Cam calls out.
“There were a lot of celebrities there that night, so it was good for business to have them photographed at my new establishment. Opening night was by invite only, and there was a disclaimer on the invite saying the press would be allowed in. When that shot was taken, I hadn’t realised Georgia hadn’t seen the photographer.
I pulled her in for the pose and startled her.
That’s why she’s looking at me that way, wondering what the fuck I was doing.
But, come on. I wasn’t going to miss out on the opportunity of being papped with the wife of the world’s biggest rock star. ”
“Excuse me?” Marley questions.
“With the wife of the lead singer of the world’s biggest band,” Cam corrects himself.
“Better,” Marley states.
Despite now being pissed off with what Daniel could’ve been hinting at—even if it was true—I still manage to form a smile.
The room becomes very quiet for a few seconds. The girls—Jimmie and Ash—know this was the night things went down the way they did between Cam and me, but I’m not sure my brothers do, and I’m wondering if my kids are working things out for themselves right now.
“If you were looking for some big exclusive off the back of that image, Daniel, then I’m sorry to disappoint you, but there isn’t one.”
He shakes his head, then shrugs. “Sorry. It’s just in my nature to dig.”
“I think what we’ve given you over the past few days should be enough to set you up for life. Don’t get greedy, otherwise I’ll have you out of here quicker than you can say Gucci, and I won’t need my husband’s help to do it.”
That earns me a few whistles and a round of applause from my husband and kids.
“You tell ’em, Princess. Cheeky bastards.” I turn to see that my parents have now arrived. My dad looks handsome in a French navy, Ralph Lauren jumper and tan-coloured trousers. He winks and raises his glass—no doubt filled with one of Cam’s most expensive single malts—in my direction.
“And when I say Princess, it’s my daughter I’m talking to. Not you, sunshine,” he clarifies.
I hear a snort of laughter.
“Fucking hell, Grandad,” George says.
“Jesus,” Harry hisses while the girls just stare, wide-eyed, as Cam silently chuckles.
My mum, head to toe in Chanel, has stilled with a glass of what I assume is her favourite Australian Prosecco in hand. “I think I’m going to need something stronger,” she says while glaring at my dad. “I thought I told you to keep your mouth shut?”
“You did, and I had no plans on opening it until Dicky Dirt up there implied there was something improper going on between our daughter and Cam, all because of a poxy photo taken by one of them slippery paparazzi fuckers.”