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“You have no idea how hard it was to find one in that colour, I knew you wouldn’t settle…” he trails off.

“How do you know what colour my car is?”

“You always said you wanted it burnt orange and black, ever since we saw that one down the Kings Road years ago, remember?”

“Yeah, but how do you know that’s what I’ve got? What did you mean about it took ages to find one that colour.”

“I bought you the car.”

“What?”

“I bought you the car, alright?”

“But, how, why? I don’t understand.”

“You were what, thirteen, fourteen when we first saw that car and you told me that was the car you wanted. I swore back then, that if the band… if we were doing okay and I had the money, then I’d buy you that car, I never said anything, I never told you, in case I couldn’t afford it.”

He looks up at me, we are naked, his head in my lap, my fingers are raking through his hair, exactly the way I used to, we are, exactly the way we were and yet, so entirely different…

“Jim told me you had passed your test and were driving around in a Beamer your Dad had given you and I just knew that you’d be hating it. Then Jim said that Frank was looking for some old car for you and was having trouble finding it.” He looks away for a second, as if debating something.

“Then she told me that your Dad wasn’t really looking too hard because he didn’t think an old car was safe, he wanted you to have something German or a Land Rover or something similar.” He shrugs his shoulders. “So I found your car, that disgusting colour you wanted, the soft top and the tacky fake walnut dashboard and got it delivered to your Dad’s car place in Epping and they fixed it all up and…” He shrugs again. “The rest is history.”

I’m gobsmacked! “You did all of that for me, but you didn’t come for me, you never thought… you never just thought fuck it, I don’t care if she wants to see me, I’m gonna see her anyway?”

“A million times G, more than a million. I sat outside your Mum and Dad’s old house and almost broke in one night. I was gonna break in and just sit and watch you sleep but then I remembered that Frank has a gun and I didn’t want him to shoot me.” As sad as I feel, I still manage a small smile.

“I went to the shops once, I waited outside for a bit and then just as I plucked up the courage to go in and speak to ya, you came walking along with your Mum, you looked…” He closes his eyes and smiles. “You looked so beautiful. So grown up. You had a cream suit on and sling back shoes, you reminded me of Audrey Hepburn, all elegant and ladylike.”

His eyes sparkle as he looks up at me. “Nothing like the Georgia I remembered in her monkey boots, camouflage trousers and Sex Pistols t-shirt. Anyway, once I saw your Mum was there, I knew it was pointless, I knew she wouldn’t let me near you.” Again I’m floored by what he’s just told me.

“I know that day, I remember wearing that suit to a business lunch with my Mum and she had told me to put my hair in a beehive because the suit was very Hepburn. Sean that was only last year, less than that, last summer sometime.”

“I know when it was G, there’s been other times since then but that was just driving past, I just didn’t know what to do. I had the note remember; it told me to stay away, to never make contact.” My belly goes over and then ties itself into a complete knot. “Babe, you’re pulling my hair.” I look down at my hand, twisting a handful of Sean’s hair, I release it.

“Sorry, sorry, that’s what thinking about her and what she’s done to us does to me, I wanna kill her Sean. I should’ve done it years ago, I should’ve done it that night she licked your face.” He throws his head back and laughs, his shoulders shake in my lap.

“What’s funny?”

He has tears rolling down the side of his head. ”You were, that night, you beat the crap out of her, there were handfuls of her hair everywhere, and I’ve never seen you move so fast.”

I don’t know why he’s laughing, I wish I had stomped on her head and as if reading my thoughts he says, “G, don’t even think about it, just let it go. If we keep going over it, it means she’s won. killing her is not an option so let’s just ignore her, we’re here, we’ve ended up right here, naked, like this, talking like this, loving each other like this, despite everything that she’s done, we’re right where we were always meant to be, together.”

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.”