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Authors: Sophie McKenzie

BOOK: Here We Lie
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Of course there is a voice in my head that says that if he could be unfaithful to his wife with me, then there’s surely at least a chance he will one day be unfaithful to me with someone
else – and that I wouldn’t want him being as impatient with any children we might have, as he often is with his own daughter.

But it’s only a small voice and, most of the time, I don’t hear it at all.

June 2014

OH. MY. DAYS.

So, like, I’d already decided to make a video diary for when I’m thirteen but I’m starting now, the day before my birthday, because the most AMAZING thing happened today and
I HAVE to say about it. I can’t BELIEVE it happened because I’d been thinking and thinking that I am going to be thirteen tomorrow and I haven’t ever been kissed, like, properly,
not pecks on the cheek or your mum but THAT kind of kissing and then I came out of school late after my piano lesson and Sam Edwards from year ten was round by the back exit near the Chapel just
lounging about like he was waiting for something, a lift maybe, but no one else was there and when I went past he said hello and I, like, nearly DIED because everyone knows who he is and he
has these big brown eyes and blond hair with bits of very blonde in it and did I say he’s in year ten and he did a modelling job and everyone thinks he’s really cool.

Anyway, he said hello and I stopped and said hello back and we just got talking and he was really nice, asking about where I’d been and how it was late to get out of prison (by which he
meant school) and he said his dad had lost his job and was at home a lot at the moment which was a nightmare and he might even have to leave the school. So I told him how my dad wasn’t at
home AT ALL and that he’d moved out in February and gone to live with Emily and my mum was all upset and he said he was really sorry to hear that. Then he got a bit closer and said he’d
noticed me before and he said I looked different than before half term and I asked what he meant and he looked at my coat, at the front of it, which was open, and he kept looking and the way he was
staring made me feel a bit tingly and he touched my face and said I had very kissable lips. IMAGINE it, Sam Edwards from year ten actually thinking I was attractive and I couldn’t speak and
then he gave me a kiss and it made me feel all wobbly and even more tingly and he asked if I was in a hurry and I said no (because Mum wasn’t even going to be home yet and I’ve been
letting myself in on Tuesdays and Thursdays since September). So Sam put his arm around me and we started walking and somehow we ended up behind the Chapel just after the bit where the light comes
on when you go past but there’s just trees so it’s all shadowy even when the light’s shining. And he kissed me again. And at first it was lovely but then he put his hand on my
school shirt, like, over my chest and he felt around a bit and I felt a bit uncomfortable but he was still kissing which I liked so I let him. Then he stopped kissing and tried to put his hand up
my skirt and now I felt a bit scared but he said I was really hot and his breathing was all heavy and I liked that he was all looking in my eyes but not the touching. So I kind of wriggled back
away from him and he asked what was I so worried about and I shrugged because really I wasn’t sure.

And Sam said he wanted a feel for ‘just a moment’, that he wasn’t going to do anything, so I let him feel around a teeny bit more while I waited and I didn’t like it
– I mean I know that you can’t get pregnant that way OBVIOUSLY, not unless they smear their stuff on their fingers first, I just didn’t like it – but it was Sam Edwards and
he looked so gorgeous in the shadowy trees and I didn’t want him not to like me. Anyway, after it had been more than ‘just a moment’ I wriggled away again hoping he wouldn’t
be cross and he said ‘all right then’ and I thought maybe we’d do some more kissing but he started unbuttoning my school shirt and I REALLY did want to say no then but I’d
already stopped him touching me so I let him and his eyes were like HUGE when he saw I hadn’t put my bra on today because some days I do and some days I don’t and today I didn’t.
And I felt REALLY self-conscious because there isn’t much there and I didn’t like him seeing so I pulled my shirt across me and he looked up and I said I should go and he said I was
hot, AGAIN, and that we didn’t have to do any more touching and what would I like to do and I sort of said ooh I like kissing, hoping he’d go back to that, but he just laughed and said
they don’t kiss in the films of it and I wasn’t sure what he meant but I was feeling confused anyway – and a bit scared and a bit worried I should go so I’d get home before
Mum.

And then he got out his phone and he said I was SO hot that he wanted a picture of my front, like I was a MODEL. And I wasn’t sure but Sam said again that I was the hottest girl in the
school and he was staring at my chest when he said that and I was AMAZED because to me they are just shapeless lumps so I said yes though I really don’t know why except that he did ask all
polite and his eyes were all sparkly and it seemed rude to say no and I know it’s what he expected and he was REALLY hot and I didn’t want him to not like me. So he took a picture and
it was so sweet because then he did kiss me a bit and he said the picture was just for him, he wouldn’t show anyone, so he could remember them when he thought of me. And it was nice he liked
them but I’ve never done any modelling OBVIOUSLY so I felt a bit embarrassed. But he said I was just like a model and then I said I really had to go and Sam said ‘see you, Dee
Dee’ which means he wants to see me again. Oh my DAYS! So it was all worth it. And I buttoned up and came home. And like I said before it’s AMAZING because yesterday NONE of those
things had happened and now they have and just in time before I’m thirteen tomorrow.

August 2014

I feel better as soon as I’m on board, in the shade. Martin has told Jed where to find the spare key – under the tarpaulin that covers the lifeboat in the stern of
the boat. Once we’re inside the
Maggie May
’s main cabin, Jed tells me to go and lie down while he looks for painkillers in the bathroom.

I stretch out on the bed in Martin and Cameron’s stateroom, pulling the blue silk throw over me. I smile to myself. With its neutral tones and designer touches it is a far cry from the
decor in the terraced south London house where we grew up. Martin has certainly landed on his feet when it comes to his partner’s finances. Cam is a trustafarian, in his late thirties like
Martin but with a massive monthly income courtesy of the wealthy, land-owning Scottish dynasty from which he is descended. Cameron neither has nor needs a proper job, though I know he’s
involved in all sorts of charitable projects. Martin could easily choose not to work too if he wanted but, like me, he clings to the sense of purpose his job gives him. At least he only works
parttime now.

Next door, Jed is rummaging through the bathroom cupboards, swearing under his breath that he can’t find any painkillers.

‘Martin said they’d be in here,’ he calls out, clearly irritated.

‘It’s fine,’ I call back, ‘I just need to rest my eyes for a bit.’

Jed reappears. ‘I’m ringing your brother.’ He goes back to the main cabin. I close my eyes, not really listening as my fiancé, in characteristically direct fashion,
demands to know where Mart and Cam keep their paracetamol and, on clearly being told by my laidback brother that if there isn’t any in the bathroom, they must have run out, orders him to go
to a pharmacy and buy some. ‘Not anything with ibuprofen or codeine though,’ Jed dictates. ‘She shouldn’t take that on an empty stomach.’

He’s over-worrying but I kind of like it. I feel better now I’m lying down too. It’s so wonderful that we are all together. This is a real family holiday of a sort I’m
not used to, with Jed at the helm: guiding and managing and, of course, paying. Well, he isn’t paying for Martin and Cameron. They aren’t actually on the holiday with us, they’ve
just pitched up in Cameron’s yacht for a couple of days. We all went out in the boat yesterday and again this morning. It was lovely, though treacherously hot. That’s probably why I
have such a headache.

The crisp cotton pillow under my head is cool against my cheek, the waves outside soothing, like a whisper. Jed is making another call now, keeping his voice low so he doesn’t disturb me.
I lie, my head easing as I slide into sleep, grateful for Jed, for the air con, for my family around me.

When I wake up, Jed is sitting at the end of the bed, watching me. I’m used to this tic of his now, though the first few times it creeped me out. But then Jed explained and I just felt
embarrassed. ‘You look so beautiful asleep,’ he said. ‘Like a child. Which is how I love you, Em. Do you realize how extraordinary it is that I love you like my own
children?’

I didn’t. And don’t. How can I? I’m not a mother yet – though soon, I hope, once we are married, babies will follow.

Right now, I’m yawning myself awake. Jed has pulled the blue silk throw up over my shoulders. I push it off and prop myself onto my elbow.

‘How long have I been asleep?’ I ask.

‘Not long, baby,’ Jed says. ‘How’s the head?’

I rub my eyes. ‘Better, thanks.’ I sit up properly. I do, indeed, feel fine. Perhaps I was just tired after last night’s late barbecue to celebrate our first night in the
villa. The strap of my dress falls off my shoulder. I scrape it back up, over my tan line. The porthole is closed, so all I can hear is the gentle slap of the water against the boat’s hull.
Music is playing from a distant café. It’s strange to be so private, yet so close to so much life.

‘Everyone’s still on shore, baby. I called when you fell asleep to say there was no need for them to hurry back after all, give you some peace and quiet. Martin’s taking them
for cocktails in some bar in the citadel.’ Jed holds out his hand. ‘Come here.’

I wriggle closer. Jed pushes the silk throw completely away, then lifts the crisp cotton sheet off my legs. He takes my hand and kisses my fingers. ‘Baby,’ he groans. ‘Oh,
baby.’

He pulls me towards him and nuzzles into my neck, then presses me back down, onto the bed. I lie still, letting Jed move around my body, allowing myself to become slowly, sleepily aroused and
trying to ignore the fact that I am making love on my brother’s bed. Across the room I can see my tanned legs reflected in the mirrored wardrobe doors. Jed’s paler-skinned bum rises and
falls comically between them.

‘Daddy loves you,’ he croons in my ear.

I flush with self-consciousness, resisting the impulse to pull away. It’s not a big deal, I remind myself; just Jed’s way, though sometimes it still makes me feel uncomfortable. Has
done from the start, if I’m honest. It was bad enough him calling me baby all the time, but when after our fifth or sixth time in bed he started making those occasional references to himself
in the third person as ‘daddy’ I didn’t know whether to laugh or feel grossed out.

But I’m used to it now. After all, everyone has their own style when it comes to sex. And Jed is, always, super-concerned that the sex should be good for me. I often feel daunted by his
experience compared to my own: I’ve had precisely six sexual partners, only three of whom were really boyfriends and only one of whom – the gorgeous but commitment-phobic Dan Thackeray
– lasted more than six months. Jed, on the other hand, claims to have lost count. Unsurprising, I suppose. He is fifty and I know there were many lovers before his twenty-year marriage
– plus the occasional one-night stand during. He says his restlessness ended the day he saw me, that I meet his every need, that – now he is older – he values our relationship in
a more rounded way, that sex is just a part of it, that he has slept with enough women for the rest of his life, that I meet all his sexual needs anyway. In fact he says I’m his fantasy, his
ideal woman . . .

He is uninhibited in bed, too, though he doesn’t particularly like it if I initiate the sex or try and take control at any point. I have learned to let him lead me, trusting that in this,
as in everything Jed does, he has my best interests at heart. The sex is good, too. The best I’ve had, apart from with Dan – but then I was so infatuated with Dan I probably imagined
half the orgasms.

We finish and Jed gives a contented sigh. I glance down at the sheets. Just a small stain. I hurry to the bathroom and dampen a flannel. Not that I think Martin would mind – he’s
pretty easygoing – but it still seems rude.

I scrub at the stain while Jed’s breathing grows deep and steady. After a few minutes I’m satisfied that the mark won’t show once it’s dry. I put my dress back on, then
prod Jed awake. While he tugs on his trousers I turn down the white linen, smoothing the sheets over, then folding the blue silk throw and laying it over the end of the bed.

‘How’s the headache now?’ Jed asks, turning to me with a smug grin. ‘Did we get rid of it?’

‘Sure did,’ I say, though in truth I can feel another band of pressure building at the back of my head. ‘But it’ll be good to take the painkillers anyway, make sure it
doesn’t come back.’ I turn to leave the room but Jed catches my hand.

‘I was thinking,’ he says. ‘When we get married, will you take my name?’

I bite my lip. It’s not that I love my name – Campbell – so much, but it’s all that is left of my parents and still a huge tie with Martin and Rose.

Jed senses my uncertainty. ‘I don’t mean give up yours,’ he says, patting my hand. ‘I know how important it is to you. I was thinking maybe we could do Campbell-Kennedy?
What do you think?’

‘I guess,’ I say. ‘Can I think about it?’

‘Of course, baby, no pressure.’ Jed smooths a stray hair from my cheek, then grins as he slaps me playfully on my behind. I grin back, feeling content. As we walk through to the
living-room cabin, voices sound on deck. Martin is first through the door. He looks distracted but attempts a smile as he sees me.

‘How you doing, Em?’ he asks.

‘Better,’ I say for Jed’s benefit, though my headache is now, in fact, definitely creeping back.

‘Lish got you some headache pills,’ Martin says.

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