“Oh, Georgia, fuck. No, I didn’t, darl; I honestly didn’t.” She sits up, leans her back against the headboard, and starts to cry. “I’m so sorry, George. I used to be so jealous of you. You had everything; the boy you’d loved all your life grew up to be famous, but he still loved you. Just you, George, and you were both so rich and famous. I used to pick up magazines and see the pair of you in them and think, ‘Why can’t that be me? Why can’t I have that?’” I cry along with her as I listen, and I actually laugh a little bit, too. “Then when the accident happened and the reporters were all camped outside your mum’s and at the hospital, I just thought how horrible that must be, to go through everything you were going through with the whole world watching.” She reaches over and takes hold of my hand. “You’re coming to Sydney with us this weekend, George. We’re gonna party, and we’re gonna celebrate Sean. There’s no way I can leave you here on your own now that I know what day it is.” I nod but I’m still not sure. “Tell me the truth, George; how ya doing? All that went on yesterday or whenever, there was no intention there, was there?” I shake my head even before she’s finished talking and turn and look at her.
“No, I got fucked up, and I took a couple of Valium.” I pause then, wondering how much else to tell her. “I made a few phone calls and stupidly had a couple of glasses of wine while I was chatting. I sort of got myself in a bit of a state on the phone and needed to calm down.” I look her square in the eyes so she can hopefully see I’m being totally honest with her. “I forgot, Brooke. I forgot I’d taken the other two Valium. With those two combined with the drugs I’d taken earlier and the wine, I was all over the place. My heart was racing after the phone call I’d had, and I thought I’d take a couple of Valium to help me get off to sleep.”
“Who was the call from?”
“What?” Shit, I’m not expecting her to ask that.
“You said you were upset by the call, who were you talking to?”
“An old friend.”
“An old friend and they upset you?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“He’s someone I’ve known a long time. We were together for a while when Sean and I split up back when I was a teenager. He sent me a lovely message on my birthday, and for some reason, he was on my mind Saturday night. In my stupid, drunken, drug-induced state, I text him. I didn’t make a lot of sense, and he was worried so he called me.”
“So he’s an ex?”
“He’s my only ex.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, wow.”
“Did you love him?”
“What is it with you and your brother? You’re both so fucking nosey.” She draws in a breath and shakes her head.
“I don’t know, but answer the question. Did you love him?” I look away and around the room while I try to word my answer in my head.
“I met Sean when I was eleven, and I knew in that moment, we would be together. I’d decided and nothing was ever gonna sway my judgement. When he and Marley were caught with the whore in the hotel room and we split up, my world, my dreams fell apart.” I give a little laugh as I think about how stupid and na?ve I had been. “I was sixteen, so I thought I knew everything. He begged my forgiveness and I sent him away because I wanted perfect. I wanted us to be this perfect couple, to buy the perfect house and start the perfect family.” I take a few squares from the toilet roll next to my bed and pass it to Brooke. I blow my nose and continue. “We’d discussed it all, planned it all, right down to the names of our kids.” Brooke blows her nose but doesn’t say anymore. “When all the shit hit the fan, I don’t know what happened to me. I think I had some sort of mental breakdown. I wouldn’t listen to anything he had to say, but then when I calmed down, I wanted him to explain, but he gave up. Well, that’s what I thought, but that’s another story.”
I don’t want to go into detail about how we had been kept apart for four years right now. Talking about all of this is hard enough, but felt unbelievably good at the same time. “Anyway, I shut myself away from the world, and there were horrible stories about me written in the papers; I was some underage harlot who had broken his heart. I had dog shit posted through my letterbox, and I was spat at out shopping with my mum one day. Anyway, I didn’t watch telly. I didn’t listen to music, and apart from school and then work, I didn’t really go out for about three years. I just barely existed, and then Ashley convinced me to go out one night and I met Cam. He’s the bloke I was telling you about, the one I drunk-and-drugged texted on Saturday night. We sort of danced around for about six months and then we finally got together.” I can’t help but smile to myself when I think about what happened when that wanker, Lee, smashed my Hilda up. “He knew everything. He knew how broken I was. He knew I was still in love with Sean, but he didn’t care. He put me back together. He fixed me and then he watched as I walked away, right back to Sean.”
“But you loved him?” I chew on my lip for a second as I think about it and then turn my head back around so my eyes meet hers.
“Yes, I loved him. I didn’t realise it at the time, but I loved him. I think I’ve always loved him.” I shrug. “Don’t get me wrong. I loved Sean unequivocally, but I also loved Cam, and like I’ll always love Sean, I think I’ll always love Cam. Is that possible? Can you love one person like your life depends on it, but still love someone else, too? Does that mean I didn’t really love Sean as much as I thought I did?” I’m thinking out loud, asking rhetorical questions. Jesus, Brooke should consider going into business with Jackson. They both have a knack for getting me to open up and talk about things I’ve buried so deep and pushed so far down, I can feel them in my toes.