Cornwall is the place that we were going to hide out when we ran away. We never made it, but it’s always held a special place in my heart. It’s the place that I spent the only holiday of my life with all of my family. I was around four, and it was straight after that my mum left my dad and moved myself and my brothers back to London. None of us then realising that within less than a year, our beautiful, funny, vibrant Mum would be dead.
The house overlooks the water in Truro and is fairly isolated, and apart from the odd meal out, I plan on keeping the pair of us locked away from the rest of the world.
Sunday was horrible. The papers running with stories ranging from the fact that I was some kind of pedo, to Meebs being a dirty little harlot, in absurdity.
We put out a joint statement saying the reports of an underage sexual relationship were pure fabrication. We admitted that yes, Nina had lost a baby, but that she was almost seventeen at the time. Other than that, we weren’t giving them anymore.
Meebs’ parents and her brother had called to add their opinions, but my girl had done me proud when she told them to fuck off and mind their business. She’d told her brother that she knew exactly what he’d done to get her to marry Newman and that he’d better stay out of her life from here on out. I had a strong suspicion that her brother and/or husband were behind the press finding out about our relationship. They were always going to find out at some stage, but I’d just wanted more time to make sure we were solid before it all blew up.
I felt ashamed of my little breakdown in front of Meebs, but it also made me feel good… cleansed. She knew the truth. She knew about my fucked up sexual encounters and she knew about my insecurities regarding the press and the public’s perception of me. She was also now aware of the fact that I was terrified that she’d leave me. She’s promised that will never happen and I’m going to make sure of that by asking her to be my wife sometime during this break. I know she’s not divorced yet but from today, I’ve got a little team on board finding out everything they can about Marcus Newman and Pearce Matthews. Hopefully by the end of this holiday, I’ll have something on Newman, which will convince him that he needs to sign those divorce papers, sharpish.
“There’s no furniture,” is the first thing Meebs says as she walks through the house.
“No shit Sherlock,” I mock.
“How can we stay here if there’s no furniture?” I pull her into my arms as she asks.
“You like the house?”
“I love the house.”
“Good, well I want you to pick the furniture, new carpets and tiles too. I’ve arranged for a team of interior decorators to come in over the next few days. They’ll bring samples and we can make this place, a home, together,” I tell her. She looks up at me with those big blue eyes of hers and I have to start undressing her. I need her naked and underneath me, like right now.
We don’t even make it up to the bedroom and simply fuck on the floor of the family room, in front of the huge open fire.
The next week goes by in a blur. Meebs consults with furniture makers, kitchen fitters and the interiors people. She’s got a very strong opinion of how she wants the place to look and I just nod and agree.
By the time Friday arrives, we have everything organised with all of the tradies to come in and start work the Monday after we leave. We’ve interviewed a local bloke from the village to come in and project manage for us and he will liaise with all of the contractors on our behalf and contact us if there are any problems. His name is Mick and we liked him as soon we start talking to him. He’s retired but ran his own construction firm for over forty years, eventually handing it down to his three sons. We’re happy and confident that he’ll keep everything in order until we can next get back.
The following week we have days out, exploring beaches and the countryside. I keep my cap and my glasses on, and the only time I’m recognised is when we surf on the day before we are due to leave, but after smiling for a couple of pictures, we jump into the car and head back home. I’m happy to sign autographs and pose with my fans all day long. What I’m not prepared for though, is the press finding out where I am.
I still haven’t gotten around to popping the question to Meebs. Last week was just so busy and this week, something just seems off. Don’t ask me to put my finger on it because I’ve tried and can’t. Meebs has been really quiet, she’s slept in most days, hasn’t wanted to go out for dinner in the evenings and just generally doesn’t seem herself. She’s assured me she’s fine and just chilling, enjoying our time away. But I’m not stupid, I know something’s up. I had to beg her to come and surf with me today and even then, she only stayed in the water for ten minutes, choosing to watch me from the beach instead.