“I’m sorry, brothers,” she says quietly.
“Good girl,” Cam says to her. “Come on, give your sister a cuddle.” Tallulah tilts her head to the side and I know she’s thinking about it. I’m just about to say something when she turns and cuddles her sister, then says, “I love you, Kiks.” She then proceeds to clamber up the bed to kiss Cam and myself. The boys not wanting to miss out, dive in for kisses and cuddles too, which, because they’re boys, ends in a wrestling and tickling session with Cam, all of them turning on me and take turns tickling as Cam holds me down. He then pulls them off me and piles them on top of each other at the end of our bed and we both sit back and watch as they wrestle with each other.
Cam pulls me into his side and kisses my temple. “I love the fuck out of ya, Kitten.”
I smile up at him. “You better, Tiger,” I tell him. He gives his head a small shake as the kids all jump on us, and the room once again erupts in laughter and screaming.
It’s moments like this I will treasure forever. I’ve taken a long and winding road to get to this point in my life. Despite the tragedy and loss I’ve experienced, I still consider myself lucky. I have loved and been loved by two amazing men. There’s not a day goes by I don’t think of Sean, Beau and baby M, and there is a part of my heart that will forever belong to them. There’s also a piece of my heart that will always be broken, irreparable, but I have now learnt to live with that. I’ll never get over my loss. What I have done is learn to accept how that loss makes me feel. I have healed to a certain degree and I’ve allowed Cam to help rebuild my broken heart from the bricks that were nothing but a pile of rubble after Sean’s death. I’m not the same person I once was. How could I be? Death and loss changes you, but I accept those changes and I embrace them. They’re part of what makes me who I am, something and someone I never imagined I would or could ever be.
I’m Georgia Rae McCarthy King and this was the story of me, wife and mother of four. I am loved and no longer alone. I’m once again part of an ‘us’ and it’s no longer just me.
Cam
I watch her as she walks towards me, looking more beautiful than I have ever seen her. The day so far has been perfect. The sun is shining and everybody seems to be having a good time.
Georgia didn’t want a big fancy church wedding so we decided to do it at our home, instead. The service had been simple. We had written our own vows and chosen our own music. Georgia had surprised me by walking down the aisle to Shania Twain’s “Still the one” and as I stood on the dance floor of the marquee in the grounds of our home, surrounded by the people we loved most in the world, I hoped that my wife would be as happy with my choice of song for our first dance. I like music, but Georgia can’t live without it. When a song comes out she likes, she plays it over and over again until she knows all of the lyrics. She rarely watches telly, but wherever she is and whatever she’s doing, there is always music playing.
We had gone along with her family’s tradition of giving the children music related names, Harry being the exception but I’m sure we can come up with a story as he grows up, just in case he feels left out.
My mum’s favourite band had been The Beatles and her favourite member of the band had been George Harrison, so George had been an easy choice, and luckily it went well with Harry, both of them being proper names, nothing poncie like Georgia’s brothers had, but real men’s names. I’d let Georgia have free range with the girls’ names and I’ve gotta say, I love them.
When Georgia was a little girl, her and Marley’s party piece used to be a rendition of Elton John and Kiki Dee’s “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart” and so she had chosen Kiki for our eldest daughter. Her favourite film when she was a kid was Bugsy Malone and she had played Tallulah in her school’s production of the show when she was ten, so that had become her choice for our second daughter. It had seemed such a big name for such a tiny baby, but I was sure she would grow into it.
Daughters, I, we, we have two little girls. We have boys too of course, but they would be easy to raise. I knew where I was with boys, but girls, two of them. I don’t mind admitting, I’m shitting myself. What if they grow up to be as wild as Kitten was when she was younger. What the fuck would I do? What if they came home with a bloke like me? Fuck that. I’d fucking shoot the bloke, blow his fucking head off. I give a small shudder as I think about this.