I keep my head down, but try and make out what it is the paps and reporters are saying. I hear the name Lynsey. Nope, no clue there. Allegations, what allegations? Oral sex, what the fuck are they talking about?
It must be Sean, another attention seeking whore, trying to make a quick quid off a dead bloke. Fuck, right before the memorial concert. Georgia’s going to be devastated. I’ve never hit a woman, but these bitches who go to the papers with their fabricated stories need a fucking slap for what they put her through. It breaks my heart watching her suffer every couple of months when this happens.
Ben undoes the door to the Land Rover. I quickly step into the back seat and he closes the door behind me. I nod towards Mark as Ben and Scott jump in, Benny joining me in the back.
The paps surround the car as Mark tries to pull away, but a couple of old Bill step in and move them back enough for us to be able to pull out.
My heart and my head are pounding and I feel sick to my stomach.
“Will someone please tell me what the fuck is going on?”
The boys in the front don’t say a word. I turn towards Ben, who’s looking at me like he wants to kill me. What the fuck is that all about?
“Just tell me you didn’t do it?” I can’t help but notice the sweat on Ben’s top lip as he speaks.
“Do what, Ben? I have no fucking idea what’s going on. Please, enlighten me before I swing for someone.”
“Did you get a blow job off a bird at Sydney Airport?” Oh, for fuck’s sake, have these fucking journalists got nothing better to do?
“No, I fucking never. Who’s saying I did?” She’s going to kill me. I know Georgia, swing first, ask questions later.
“Some bird has told the papers that the pair of you went into a toilet in the first class lounge and she gave you a blow job before your flight to London. I don’t know all of the details as I was rounding up the boys and driving here, but the papers are running with the story on Sunday.
I’m already speed dialling Georgia. I need to talk to her. Explain that this is all complete bollocks. She knows better than anyone what the press are like.
“Where’s Georgia, Ben? She’s not answering her phone. I’ve got missed calls from all of her family. Is she with them?” I rake my hand through my hair. Benny’s phone rings as my call once again goes through to Georgia’s answer phone.
“What?” I end my call and turn my attention to Bens.
“December and she’s only just come out with it now?… Yeah, sounds like a load of ol’ bollocks to me mate… Well, do what you can and I’ll let him know.”
He ends his call and looks at me. “Apparently, it happened back in December.” I swear my heart stops beating for a few seconds. For fuck’s sake. She’s going to kill me. I’m dead. If she don’t string me up by my balls, her ol’ man will and fuck knows what them psycho sister-in-laws of hers will do to me. Oh, fuck, we’ve got the pregnancy tests on Monday.
Fuck!
Shit!
Bollocks!
“Eli’s all over it and trying to stop the paper from…” Benny stops talking and just stares at me. “For fuck’s sake, boss. You fucking idiot. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
I move my tongue around my mouth, trying to unstick my lips from my teeth. I swallow a couple of times, despite my mouth and throat being bone dry.
“We weren’t together. Nothing had been sorted.” I know it’s a piss poor excuse, but it’s all I’ve got right now. “Where’s Georgia? I need to speak to her and explain.” I feel like my head and my chest are about to explode. Fucking newspapers. Fucking vindictive women selling their sex stories to newspapers. I let out a long breath. I need to find Georgia. I can’t think beyond that right now.
“She don’t wanna see ya, boss. She told me to tell ya, ask ya, to stay away.”
“Yeah, like fuck that’s gonna happen. Where is she, Ben? At her mother’s?” Fuck, I’m going to have to face all the fucking Laytons now.
“I dropped her at an old warehouse conversion in Docklands. I don’t know who lives there, but that’s where I left her.”
I start to feel even sicker. She’s gone to him. That’s his place. It’s where he lived with Marley before she and him got back together. She’s told me about it, but I’ve never been there. She’s not been there since he died either, or so she told me, but now she’s gone to where she’ll feel close to him and that hurts. It really fucking hurts, and what makes it worse is, it’s all my own fault. I should’ve told her. I know we weren’t together, but we’d talked. She’d told me how she felt just the night before, in that hotel room in Sydney. We were happy. For a few hours, we were happy and making plans, and then her spiteful cousin had turned up and spoilt it all.