The Story Of Us - Jones Lesley (электронные книги бесплатно .txt) 📗
Shit, I really don’t know what to do. I know what I want to do but Sean will go mad. I could, not tell him, shit. “Ben, if he’s in this mess because of me, then I’m probably the last person he wants to see.”
“Na, ah fink he wants to see ya, I fink he just needs to see ya, he won’t listen to no one else, you need to tell ‘im to sort ‘is shit out, else they’re gonna put ‘im in rehab again.”
“Again, Cam’s been in rehab before?”
“Yeah, yeah he has, twice before, when he was younger and then again after he lost Chantelle. He was a mess for a long time after that, then ‘is brothers took charge and he ended up in rehab for nearly six months. He hated it, nearly killed ‘im and that’s what they’re talkin’ about doin’ now, they’re givin’ ‘im a week to sort ‘imself out, then they’re gonna lock ‘im up, they got a court order before, he ‘ad no choice, he ‘ad to stay.”
Jesus, what a mess.
“Where is he?” I can’t believe I’m even considering this.
“Up the flat above the wine bar.” I nod, I owe him this much, he saved me from myself, now I need to see if I can return the favour.
“Let me get some shoes on.” I run back inside and slide my feet into a pair of flip flops, grab my keys and head back out. I follow Ben down the stairs, run over to where Dave is leaning on his car and tell him I’m just popping out to see a sick friend, that I won’t be long and that I don’t need him with me. I jump into the Jag and five minutes later, Ben is unlocking the front door to Cam’s flat.
Music is blaring and I hesitate in the doorway, Ben juts his chin forward. “You go in, I’ll wait here, he ain’t gonna be ‘appy ‘bout this but I dint know what else to do.” I must look nervous as Benny adds. “I’ll be right here, I won’t go anywhere.”
He nods as if to reassure me, I walk down the hallway, the place is lit up like Christmas, and every light appears to be on. As I enter the open plan living and kitchen area, I’m struck by the mess. There are bottles everywhere, whiskey, wine, beer; the coffee table is covered in them, along with lots of little empty bags that coke was obviously once in. There’s a tray on the floor with two lines ready to go on it, along with a rolled up fifty pound note. The place smells awful, stale alcohol and vomit mainly and a hint of cigar smoke. The song that’s been playing has just started to play again, its Fake, by Alexander O’Neal, he has a couple of his CD’s that he plays in the car. I look over to the kitchen; there are a couple of plates with mouldy food on them, a pizza box and more bottles.
I head toward Cam’s bedroom and can hear the shower running; I head into the bathroom quietly. The door to the shower cubicle is open and Cam is sitting inside on the floor, the water is bouncing off of him and out of the open door, making the floor wet. There is a pile of vomit on the tiled floor beside the shower and another beside the toilet. I throw a towel over each pile, he doesn’t notice because his eyes are closed, his legs are out in front of him, arms slumped at his sides, his head is hanging forward and he’s completely naked. He looks… small, which is ridiculous as he’s six foot four and a big strong man but right at this moment he looks small and frail and I feel so bad that I have caused this. I stand and stare for a few moments, my hand covering my mouth as I try to control my sobs, I go back out to the front door and tell Ben to grab some bags and to start clearing away some of the bottles. I go back to the bathroom and shut the door; I go over to the shower and turn off the water. Cam mumbles something and lifts his arm in front of him and reaches for something… someone, me? I straddle his lap and dry his hair and his face. He almost has a full beard growing, it’s dark but with a few flecks of grey. I raise my hand and gently touch his face, his eyes flutter open but he can’t focus, he sucks on his own cheeks, probably trying to moisten his mouth, then he opens his eyes again and tilts his head to the side and gives me a little smile.
“Kitten,” he whispers, very, very softly. “I love you.”
I let out a sob, I can’t help it, I hold on to each side of his face. “Oh Tiger, what have you done to yourself?”
“I love you,” he whispers again, he grabs a handful of my hair, not roughly, just enough to tilt my head and make me look at him, he nods his head and says it again, “I love you.”
I don’t know what to say, my heart is telling me to tell him that I love him too but my head is telling me not to be so fucking stupid. He shivers and I realise I need to get him out of the shower and into bed. I move his shoulders off of the wall and drape a dry towel around them; I’m afraid that he will slide over and hit his head so I call out for Benny. The music goes quiet and I can hear talking, I call Benny again. Cam whispers, “No, no Benny, just you, just you Kitten.”
The door that separates the bathroom from the bedroom opens and Cam’s absolute double is standing there. “I… I’m sorry, I’m Georgia, I was… he’s cold, I don’t know how long he’s been in here. I can’t lift him.”
Cam’s double is wearing a suit; he takes the jacket off and throws it behind him onto the bed. “Mind out the way. Benny, get your arse in here.”
I step out of the way of who I’m assuming is Cam’s older brother but that’s just a guess as he hasn’t introduced himself. Benny comes through the door, just, his huge frame fills it; he must’ve been working hard at cleaning up as he’s sweating and his bald head is shining. “Mind the spew Ben,” I say as I walk out of the bathroom, there’s not enough room for all of us and I don’t feel particularly welcome anyway.
Thankfully Cam’s bed doesn’t look as though it’s been slept in so I don’t have to put clean sheets on it, I just throw the cushions that we bought to match the new bedding we shopped for just a month ago, onto the floor. My heart stops, starts, sidesteps, and then carries on its normal rhythm at that thought.
“They’re cushions George, we bought cushions and bedding together, we didn’t get married, get a grip girl,” I say out loud to myself. Benny and Cam’s double come into the room with an arm of Cam’s each draped around their shoulders, his feet are dragging along the floor and the way he’s being held, the way he looks, reminds me of Jesus on the cross, just for a second, just for a split second. They drop him unceremoniously onto the bed and I lift his legs and cover him with the duvet.
“You gonna stay here and look after him?” Cam’s double frowns as he looks at me. I look around the room, purely for affect, I know full well it’s me he’s talking to.
“Me?” I ask.
“Yes you! Are gonna fuckin’ stay and help put right this mess you caused.”
What? I shake my head. “Who the fuck are you and who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”
“I’m Robbie, Cam’s brother and I’m assuming you’re Georgia and if I assume correctly, then I’m talking to you.”
“Yes, I’m Georgia, but I didn’t cause this, he’s done this to himself.” He puts his hands on his hips and nods his head in a stance and a gesture that is so much like Cam that I want to weep.
“You fucked him over Georgia, you’re the first woman since Chantelle died he’s allowed himself to get close to. You’re the first woman he has openly admitted to me that he’s in love with, he was so happy and then you fucked him over. You blew him out for your rock star and you broke him, he’s more broken now than when he lost his wife and baby and you fucking did it, so yes, you are the cause of this mess!”
I feel ashamed, I did cause this, not intentionally and I didn’t know Cam loved me. “I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know what?”
“I didn’t know he loved me, he never said, he never told me.”
“No, because apparently you have a history of doing a runner when blokes tell ya that shit so he was waiting. He knew you was coming round to the idea, he had it all planned, he was taking you away, for two weeks in June, after your brother’s wedding. He was gonna take you away and show you, make you realise that you did love him.” He stops talking as Cam mumbles in his sleep. “Are you staying or not sweetheart, that’s all I wanna know?” He was taking me away, he knew I was falling in love with him, he knew, I didn’t, did I?