“I can’t… I can’t tell you, and I can’t talk about it.” He nods at me, slowly; I take a gulp of my wine, draining my glass. “I’m sorry.”
He gives a little smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes, he looks concerned and I just feel like a complete bitch, I’m out on a date in a posh restaurant and I’m almost in tears over a bloke that cheated on me four years ago and there’s nothing I can do stop it. I can’t change how I feel, I still love Sean, I miss him, I long for him and I can’t talk about him. I only have a few more months before the wedding and I’ll be standing in a church with him and then I’ll be sitting in the same room at the wedding reception as him and no doubt, I will spend the whole day and the whole night, trying, forcing myself not to look at him. Just the thought of that day and how painful it’s going to be has the blood rushing through my ears again and once again I’m swallowing hard, trying to stop the dinner I just ate, from coming back up and reintroducing itself to the plate it was originally served on.
“Do you want to leave Georgia?” Cam asks me very quietly. I nod. I don’t want to speak, I don’t think I can, my chest is so tight, I just wish I could cry, just once, if I could let go of the tears, then perhaps I could let go of some of the pain.
I don’t even notice Cam gesture to the waiter but he must, he’s there with the bill in an instant, Cam pays him in cash and then stands and helps me put on my jacket, the perfect gentleman. We wait for just a few seconds as the valet brings his car around, before he’s even out, Cam has the passenger side door open and helps guide me in, before tipping the valet, taking his keys and sliding in beside me; he pulls silently into the Saturday night traffic of London’s elite SW1 and we drive in silence until we are almost at my flat.
“I’m so sorry about tonight Cam, the restaurant was beautiful, and the food was fantastic, I’m so sorry my stupid behaviour ruined it.”
He keeps his eyes on the road and says nothing, I’ve totally blown it, I like Cam, he’s the first bloke since Sean to stir any kind of interest in me and I’ve just gone and fucked up any chance I might have had with him and I’ve no idea how I can try to make it better. Perhaps if we fucked? If we get the fucking out of the way first, it might help me to move on. I’m pretty sure that Cam would be good in bed, and I’m sure that he’d finally give me the orgasm I was so desperate for. I could DIY it myself no problem, I had invested in the perfect little toy that meant I could come in a matter of seconds on my own, but I hadn’t come with a man in almost four years, since Spain, with Sean, Sean, Sean, fucking Sean. I let out a huff of frustration that I didn’t mean to, just as Cam parked his car in the spot outside my flat, he finally turned and looked at me.
“Have you ever had help Georgia?”
“What? What kind of help?”
“Psychological help? Help to try and get over whatever it is that happened to you.”
My hand instantly flew up to my neck. “Help to try and get deal with whatever he did to you.” He gestures with the tilt of his chin toward my necklace, where my hand still is, fucking hell; he thinks I’m mad, he thinks I’m insane, am I? I’m completely fucked up, I know that much but I don’t know about insane, I choose to ignore the comment and the question.
“Would you like to come in for a coffee?”
“You really want me to come in?”
I nod, I do, I really don’t want to be alone right now. I’m so sick of being alone and I’m so sick of being lonely.
When Sean did what he did in that room, not only did I lose him and the life that we had planned together, I also lost Jimmie, Lennon and Marley, I know I still got to see Len and Jim but we could’ve all been so much closer. I would have been involved with the band, touring with them, seeing my brothers and my best friend almost daily and suddenly, it was all ripped away from me. They all went off and road the fame wave with the band, whilst I quietly slipped off back to school, all on my own. While I’m lost in my own thoughts, Cam has gotten out of the car and come around and opened the door on my side, I stare up at him blankly for a few seconds, before I realise that he’s waiting for me to get out, he takes my hand, puts his other hand on the top of my head so I don’t bump it and guides me out of the car and up the stairs to my flat.
My Dad had insisted on two lots of security doors when his blokes worked on the refurbishment. You unlock the first door, walk along a short corridor and before reaching the front door that eventually lets you into my place; it’s not huge but it’s mine and I’ve decorated it exactly how I wanted to. My Mum wanted florals and dado rails, I wanted plainly painted walls and a leather sofa, a chesterfield in fact, it reminded me of the summerhouse, just the smell of the leather alone would make my belly flip every time I came home; my parents still had that old sofa, Sean and I had had sex on it, more than once. Sean, Sean.
“I think you need a drink not a coffee, what do you have in?” Cam’s concerned voice interrupts my inappropriate thoughts.
“Sorry, what?” I’m sitting on a stool at my breakfast bar and I’ve no idea how I got here.
He doesn’t wait for an answer, he just starts opening cupboards until he finds the bottle of Drambuie I always keep for when my dad comes over, he pulls two whisky tumblers from the shelf above the drink and pours two large measures into both, then adds ice from the freezer. Placing both the glasses down in front of me, he stands on one side of the bench top, and leans forward on his elbows, facing me as I sit on my stool on the other side. He tilts his glass toward me.
“Cheers?’ It’s a question not a toast. I pick up my glass and tap it against his and nod slightly.
“Cheers,” I state.
He looks at me for a long while but I just know he’s going to talk and I know he’s going to ask questions and rightly so, I’ve behaved like a complete head case tonight. He took me out to a nice restaurant; he’s behaved with impeccable manners and has shown the patience of a saint, so he’s more than entitled to ask questions if he feels inclined; whether I’ll answer them without having another complete meltdown is another thing.
“Why do you wear it if it causes you so much pain?”
What is he talking about?
“The necklace, why wear it?” I raise my hand, and then put it back down, he’s very perceptive. My belly flips upside down and then feels like it’s trying to turn itself inside out.
“I really like you Georgia but I need to know what I’m up against. I want to know who I’m up against?” He’s quiet for a few seconds. “I’m not some kind of a cunt, if it’s a bloke and he’s still about, if your still involved, I will walk away and leave you to it. I want you George, fuck do I want you but I want you to come to me willingly and I want you to come to me single, I don’t share.”
I sip at my drink, enjoying the warmth as it slides down my throat and lands in my acrobatic belly, I watch as he drains his glass and pours himself another. “Are you with someone?” Ha, am I? Sean, yes I’m with Sean but only in my head, in real life, I’m alone, so fucking alone. “Georgia?”
“No, no I’m not with anybody; I haven’t been with anybody for years. I’m very single.”
“What about all the blokes you came into the wine bar with? You were with them.”
I shrug my shoulders. “No I wasn’t, they were with me, but I was never with them.”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “I wish you’d tell me, if you told me, who, what, I mean give me a fucking clue here, even about us George. What do you want? Why did you come out with me tonight?”
“You looked after me the other night, you’re getting my car sorted, I like you, I wanted to go out with you but I just can’t talk to you about him.”
“So it is a bloke then?” I nod slightly; he drags one hand through his dark hair.