The Story of Me (Carnage #2)(6)

“No, just the letter. Are you going to read it?” I pick it up from the kitchen bench top just as Ash comes through the front door with Sam. “Happy birthday, slag bag.” Ash pulls me in for birthday cuddles as I hear my mother gasp at her greeting.

“Thanks, slutster; you look good.” She lets go as Sam takes her place.

“Happy birthday, George.”

“Thanks, Sam,” I reply.

“We need to go. We’re booked in for our first treatment at eleven, and you know how much that bunch of stuck-up f*ckers moan if you’re late at that place.” I put the thick envelope into my bag.

“Well, I hope you girls are going to tone the language down when we get there; royalty frequent this place, you know,” my mum complains.

“Fuck ‘em. We’re rock royalty, so we can say whatever the f*ck we like,” Ashley replies. Jimmie, Sam and I burst into laughter as my mother looks like it’s her turn to faint or have a coronary.

“So, it’s true. Marley just called from the shit phone and told me to listen out for that noise.” We all must wear a confused look as she explains, “He reckons he heard you giggle earlier, George, but thought he must be hearing things. But naah, he was right. You did actually giggle just then. In fact, I would go as far as saying you actually laughed.” I shake my head as we walk to the stretch limo waiting outside for us. My brother can be such a dick sometimes.



*



We spend the next few hours drinking champagne, while enjoying manis, pedis, facials and a full-body massage. By the time we head back out to the limo, I’m totally chilled-out and well on my way to being drunk. I reach into my bag to check my phone, but realise I’ve left it at home; instead, my hand finds the envelope that came with the flowers. I’ve been thinking about this most of the day, worrying about who it might be from. Fuelled by my alcohol-induced bravery, I pull the envelope from my bag and tear it open. The conversation going on around me fades away as I try to make sense of the words on the first page.



Happy birthday, Georgia Rae

Show us your tits!



Gia, my beautiful, beautiful girl, I hope you’re well, baby.



If you’re reading this, then I am no longer around, and I hope this hasn’t come as too much of a shock to you.



I made arrangements with my solicitor, that in the event of anything ever happening to me, you would always receive flowers on your birthday. If at some stage you have moved on and this is no longer appropriate or you just don’t want to receive them, then please contact the offices of Fishburn, Colt and Co and they will deal with it.



So, today is your birthday, Georgia Rae, and despite the fact that I’m not there to share it with you in person, I will do my best to be there with you in spirit. I hope today finds you surrounded by the love of your family, of our children and of our grandchildren, and I hope you are being spoilt rotten.



I hope our life together was a good one and that I made you happy, G. I always did my best to try to make sure that was the case.



Wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, please think of me, because you can be sure that, wherever I am and what ever I’m doing, I’ll always be thinking of and loving you.



Thank you for being my wife, Gia, and for making my life what it was. Remember, near or far, in this life or in the next, it’ll only ever be you.



Sean xxx



I almost choke on the sobs that escape me. I curl into a ball and hug my knees to my chest as everyone sits in stunned silence. Jimmie takes the letter from my hand and I hear her sob out, “Oh, God,” as she realises what it is and who it’s from. She silently holds me in her arms as the limo makes its way through the evening traffic back to my parents’ home. By the time we arrive, I have composed myself to some degree and am trying my hardest to focus on the fact that I was so blessed and lucky to be loved the way I was by Sean. I don’t want to dwell on the horrible circumstances in which he had been ripped away from me, along with our son, far too soon.

I keep my brave face on all through dinner. I enjoy kisses and cuddles from my nieces and nephews, and when we light the candles on my cake the second time for the children to have their turn, as we always do at family birthdays, I take comfort from the fact that Beau was there with his cousins, blowing them out, too.





Chapter Three


I tilt my face up to the early morning sun and let its heat warm me. The water’s not freezing, but it’s cold enough to make the sun feel good. I squint my eyes and look out across the Pacific Ocean; there is a pod of dolphins swimming in the water nearby, appearing then disappearing every few seconds. The scene is surreal, tranquil and as far removed from the mayhem I left behind in England as you could get. I’m suddenly overcome by a surge of complete and utter loneliness. I just so desperately wish Sean was here with me to witness all this.

My tears are instant and overwhelm me.

Some days are just so hard, so f*cking hard.

It’s November 2001, and I have been in Australia for four weeks; four weeks in which I have done nothing but surf, ride horses, help out at Worldies—my aunt Kath and Uncle John’s bar—and occasionally on the bookings desk of my cousin’s surf lesson and boat charter office.