Carnage: Book #1 The Story Of Us (Volume 1)(35)

I curled under a blanket on the sofa with my Mum, my Dad made calls for what seemed like hours, at about two in the morning he came and sat in his favourite armchair with a coffee in his hand. “I’ve left messages everywhere George, with the record label and with the lawyers, they landed in France this morning, they have a night off tonight and I’ve called the hotel but none of them are in their rooms. If there was anything wrong, with any of the boys, Lennon would have called, I know he would.” I nodded at him, despite what he said, I still had this horrible knot of dread pulling tight in my stomach.

“George, let’s go and get in bed, Dad will wait up for the phone and come and get us when someone calls.” My Mum looked exhausted but I knew she wouldn’t go to bed unless I did, she held out her hand to me and I took it, following her up the stairs to my bed, we both got in and I laid with my head on her chest like I used to when I was a little girl and let the slow steady rhythm of her heartbeat and the familiar smell of her Dior perfume soothe me to sleep.

I woke to the sound of my Dad shouting, the sun was streaming through my bedroom window and I blinked a few times as I looked around my room. Glancing at my clock I noticed it was just after eight fifteen, I’d actually managed to sleep quite a long time, I suddenly heard what sounded like my Mum crying and my stomach lurched. I flew out of bed and down to the kitchen, it was full of my Dad’s blokes, I don’t know exactly what they did but they’d all been working for him for as long as I can remember. My Dad was talking on the phone and pacing the kitchen floor, the lead stretched from the wall past Marcus, my Dad’s lawyer where he was sitting at the breakfast bar, Nick was sitting next to him. He drove my Dad around sometimes, standing talking to him was Tony who looked after security at a couple of pubs my Dad had recently bought and standing in the middle of the room, with his arms wrapped around my Mum as she cried into his chest, was my Dad’s brother, my uncle Fin. The whole room fell silent when I walked in.

“Mum?” My Dad’s eyes shot up to meet mine and he looked me up and down, I’d jumped out of bed in such a hurry and not expecting a house full of men, I hadn’t thought about the fact I was wearing just a t-shirt and a pair of knickers. I blushed as I knew my Dad would be angry, he was very old fashioned about what I wore, even around the house.

“For f*ck’s sake Georgia, go and put some clothes on!”

“What’s going on, Mum, why are you crying?”

My Dad raked his hand through his hair, I noticed he was still wearing yesterday’s clothes and he hadn’t shaved. “Get some clothes on George, we’ll talk then.”

I turned to walk up the stairs and as I did I heard Marcus say, “What are you going to tell her?”

“I have no f*cking idea,” Dad replied and the knot of dread and fear pulled even tighter in my belly.

I threw on a pair of joggers and an old sweatshirt of Sean’s that I’d never washed, it smelt more of me now than it did of him but I refused to let my Mum wash it regardless. I was back down in the kitchen in less than a minute, everyone’s eyes were back on me as I re-entered the room; my Mum was sitting down at our big dining table drinking a cup of tea, my Dad gestured with his chin. “Sit down George, we need to talk.”

I shook my head, I was so scared, my feet were rooted to the floor, so many thoughts were rushing through my mind. “Daddy, did one of the boys die, is Sean or Marley dead Daddy?”

He rushed toward me and held me in his big arms and I sunk into his chest, he squeezed me tight, then walked me over to the dining table and sat me in the chair next to my Mum, she reached out and held my hand, I looked from her to my Dad, who was now sitting the other side of me. I wanted to hear the words, I wanted someone to tell me what had happened but at the same time I didn’t, if they were going to spoil my perfect life, my perfect love and my perfect future, then I didn’t ever want to hear them, I could see my Dad was struggling, he rubbed his hands over his dark stubble continuously.