She throws her head back and starts to laugh. Cam turns and looks at me and I hate what I see in his eyes, written all over his face; it's guilt. It’s how I probably looked when I found him in his bathroom at his old flat above the wine bar that time. He’s blaming himself for this. He thinks her being a junkie is all down to him and I don’t know what to say or do to take the guilt away.
“You okay, Kitten?” he asks me quietly. I’m touched that his first thought is for me while all this chaos is going on. I swallow and nod, but I’m not entirely sure that I am and I think he knows it. “Can you call an ambulance for me? Call for an ambulance, then pass me the phone so I can talk to them.”
I nod again and turn to get my phone when Tamara screams, “What did you call her? Did you call her Kitten? Why? Why?” She’s kicking and thrashing again. “Why her? Why not me? Why not me?” She starts to sob as I press 9-9-9 on my phone. She stops fighting and just sobs and I start to cry as I pass the phone to Cam. She’s heartbroken. I know that cry. I’ve cried like that so often myself this past year and I can’t help but feel sorry for her and I can’t help but wonder… if I wasn’t here, would he be with her? Would they be together? Am I breaking up or keeping apart a family?
*
I sit on the sofa and watch as Cam holds Tamara in his arms as she cries. The paramedics arrive, but she screams and begs Cam not to let them take her away, so in the end, he goes in the ambulance with her. He barks at Benny to stay with me as he carries her out the door. “I’ll be back as soon as she’s settled,” he looks over his shoulder, directing his words at me. I nod. What else can I do?
The front door closes and when Benny comes and sits down next to me on the sofa, I really let the tears go. I’m not really sure why I’m crying. What I just witnessed was distressing, but I think my tears are more about guilt, and for the first time in a long while, I hear that little voice in my head telling me that perhaps I should’ve died on that cold pavement next to Sean and our son last year. Perhaps that’s what was meant to happen, but because of my husband’s selfless actions, it didn’t, and now here I am, being selfish, loving Cam and ruining other people’s lives.
Chapter Twenty
Benny sits quietly at first, saying nothing as I cry. After about ten minutes, he says, “Come on, George. Don’t cry like that, sweetheart. It’s upsetting to hear.” I lean over and pull a couple of tissues from the box on the coffee table and blow my nose.
“Sorry, Ben,” I sniff. “You wanna cup of tea or something?” I ask him.
“Fuck the tea, babe, I need a proper drink after dealing with that Loony Tune.” He gets up and goes over to a top cupboard in the kitchen and pulls out a bottle of bourbon, then a glass from a different cupboard. “You want one of these, or you want summit different?” he asks.
I stand up and stretch. “I’ll have a wine. D’ya know where the glasses are?” He opens another cupboard and pulls out a wine glass. I fill it with the wine I’ve taken from the fridge, then go and sit back down on the sofa. My head spins after just one sip. It’s still early in the day, not yet twelve, and despite having had a little bit of breakfast, the alcohol hits me.
“Them paparazzi are gonna have a fuckin’ field day with all this. I don’t know how you’ve put up with it all these years, George. I really don’t. They hang about like flies ‘round shit. I’d line the fuckin’ lot of ‘em up against a wall and have ‘em shot, I would.”
I give a little laugh. There’re plenty of times I’ve wanted to do much worse. The attention was a little more acceptable when Sean was alive, but now, it was just ridiculous. All this attention aimed at me is beyond belief.
“Are there many out there?” I ask.
He sips on his drink and nods. “There were about four when I pulled in but they were out on the street. Your brothers sent some security over so they couldn’t get into the car park like they did last night when you pulled up.” Last night, it was just last night when I pulled up here with Cam. It’s amazing how easily we’ve slipped into being together again, almost like we’d never been apart. Except that we had; we’d both lived this whole other life for the past twelve years.
“Was there no one else, Ben? Was she the only girlfriend he’s had?”
He shakes his head. “She’s never been his bird, George. Don’t believe any of that ranting and raving she was doing earlier.” He turns and looks me. “There’s been no one since you, no one. Tamara’s only ever been a fuckpiece.” I raise my eyebrows at his term. “Don’t look like that. She’s used him as much as he’s used her over the years, so don’t go feeling sorry for her.” I pull my legs underneath me, cover myself with a throw and turn towards him.