I stand in the shower on the plane, contemplating all of this, once again getting angry with myself when I cry over the fact that Cam lied to me. Despite all of my wrong doings, that’s one thing I always thought Cam and I had between us, honesty. I told him from the start that I was still in love with Sean. Okay, I didn’t tell Cam that I was also in love with him, but I didn’t realise it myself for a long time. I did tell him further down the track, and I told him again last night that I am in fact, still in love with him. Finding out he has a pregnant girlfriend hasn’t changed that fact. All it’s done is hurt me yet again. My entire life seems to consist of hurt, pain and heartache. I’m sure I can handle a little more being thrown my way.
I step out of the shower, look at myself in the mirror and burst into tears. I’m totally kidding myself. I’m in love with Cameron King and over the last few weeks, Jackson has helped me realise that fact, and stupidly, it would now seem, I had allowed him to become a symbol of hope. I had no idea I was going to bump into him Saturday night, but I had planned on getting in touch with him once I was back in England to try to work out exactly what my feelings were for him. After seeing him Saturday and talking to him the way I did, I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I love him. I’ve always loved him. I’m one of those people, it would seem, who can love two people at once. I’ve loved Sean my entire life and I’ve loved Cam for the last twelve years. Whether it’s right or it’s wrong, it’s a fact. It must also be something in my nature that makes me unable to stop loving someone. I’ve never stopped loving Sean and I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving Cam, which basically leaves me fucked for ever loving anyone else and I hate that thought. I don’t want a life without love. There’s something in me and I assume it’s the same for most humans, that makes me want to love and to be loved. I never want to go back to the detached sex I had in my past, never. It was horrible and hurt me much more than it healed. What I had with Roman was okay. At least we connected as friends and we definitely connected physically; he was hot and just one look woke up my sleeping libido, but that’s all it was, a friendly fuck. I’ll always be grateful for the fact he helped me realise I was capable of moving on to some degree, but he’ll never mean more to me than a friend.
I decide not to bother with any makeup because I can’t be sure that I won’t be crying again anytime soon. I put on some clean clothes, pull on a baseball cap, take my sunglasses out of my bag, and go and take my seat as we make our descent into Heathrow.
*
Jimmie and Len are at the airport to collect me. Jim and I are blubbering snot bubble blowing messes the instant we set eyes on each other. The three of us stand and have a group hug for a full three minutes before heading over to the car. Len has booked a car with a driver so we can all sit in the back and talk. I give them most of the details of my time away, but I save my adventures with Roman for when I get some girlie time with Jim and Ash.
It’s Monday morning in England, and the traffic on the M25 is its usual nightmare. Ash has convinced Marley to go to my parents’ house with her and we are going straight there to surprise them all. My stomach begins to churn as we drive along familiar streets on the approach to my parents’ home, my home. I must become quiet as Jimmie reaches out and takes my hand.
“You okay, babe?” I shrug. I could nod my head, but it would be pointless. She knows me too well.
“Nervous,” I reply honestly.
“It’s only Mum, Dad, Ash and Marley, George. You’re not going to meet the queen.”
I turn and smile at Lennon. “I’ve met the queen twice, Len. She’s nothing compared to Mother.” He takes my hand and kisses the back of it.
“She’ll be all right. She’s just missed ya really badly. Actually, we all have.”
I nod. “I missed all of you, too, but I just couldn’t be around here with all those stories going on.”
“I know. I understand that. It pisses me off that they’re allowed to print all of that shit and yet don’t say a word when it’s all proved to be a load of bullshit.”
Anxiety builds in my chest as I think about the claims and the relentless press attention and speculation. Sean’s been dead a year now and I wonder if they will finally leave me alone. I’m not famous. I was married to someone that was; that’s all. I really don’t understand why anyone would be interested in me.
Lennon’s phone rings and it reminds me that mine has been switched off since I got into the back of the car taking me to the airport. Cam started to call me. I ignored him three times before I just switched it off. I turn it back on and it bleeps continuously as it lights up, alerting me to twenty-seven missed calls, nine voicemails and twelve text messages, but attention is taken from them to the conversation Lennon is having on his phone.
“Well your source is wrong.” I turn to look at him.
“No, I can’t confirm that.” His eyes are staring straight ahead and I just know that the call is about me when he turns and looks out the window.
“I’m confirming nothing, Jules.”
“Nope, nothing to say about that either, any more questions?”