by Paige Toon
I’m on edge. Is he properly angry with me for that Joseph comment? I should have called him back, but now it’s too late.
‘Hey,’ I say as he reaches me.
‘Hi.’
He bends down and presses his lips to mine, sliding his right hand into the hair at the nape of my neck and holding me to him. I pull away with confusion.
‘Did you get my message?’
‘Just now,’ he breathes, his brow momentarily furrowing. ‘I was already on my way when you called.’ His eyes flicker past me and around the room. ‘Where is he?’ he asks drily in my ear.
‘I think he’s gone.’
‘Did you speak to him?’ His eyes flash as they stare down at me and I curse myself as my face heats up. I don’t know why I feel guilty.
‘I said hi, yeah,’ I reply defensively, meeting his direct stare. ‘Have you seen Dana?’
He tenses and looks up, his gaze moving around the room again before stopping suddenly. ‘Mmm.’
I never wanted Johnny to set eyes on Dana ever again, let alone speak to her.
‘Do you want to speak to her?’ I ask in a small voice, desperately hoping the answer is no, but believing I owe him that because of my conversation with my former flame.
‘No,’ he says firmly. ‘I have nothing to say to her.’
The relief is immense.
He gently kisses my lips. ‘Can I take you home?’ he asks.
‘Um… Kitty.’
‘She looks fine to me.’
I turn around to see her laughing with Dex. She has her hand placed flirtatiously on his chest and he’s grinning down at her.
‘I need to talk to you,’ Johnny adds in a low voice and my eyes shoot back to look at him.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘I’ll tell you when we’re in the car.’
‘Is it the boys?’
‘No, no,’ he says hurriedly. ‘Everyone’s fine.’
But something is wrong. He didn’t deny it. That wasn’t anger when he walked in the door; it was something else entirely. And the fact that he hasn’t even given me the Spanish Inquisition about Joseph tells me that whatever it is he’s about to reveal is going to hit me like a tonne of bricks.
My heart is hammering as we say goodbye to Kitty. She doesn’t seem to mind being left alone with Dex. I’ll call her tomorrow for an update, but right now, I want to find out what Johnny wants to talk to me about.
Davey is waiting for us. I give him a wary look as he opens the door for me. I wonder if he knows what’s going on.
‘Thanks, Davey,’ I say, as Johnny climbs into the car behind me. He punches the button by the mini bar to put the privacy screen up, then guides me to the back of the car. He sits down beside me and takes my hands. I have a very bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.
‘Wendel called me,’ he says in a low voice, not meeting my eyes.
‘Right…’ I say uncertainly. Wendel is Johnny’s solicitor. It was because of him that I got the job of Johnny’s PA in the first place. I was working for an architect at the time – Wendel was a client.
Johnny looks up at me and his eyes are full of sorrow. Whatever it is he wants to say, he’s finding it extremely hard.
‘Just tell me,’ I urge him.
He swallows hard. What is it? ‘Wendel spoke to a man earlier today, claiming to be the stepfather of a girl who…’
My imagination strikes me with thoughts much faster than Johnny can speak. Has he had an affair? Has he cheated on me since we’ve been married? Oh God, no. Please, no…
‘… is the daughter of one of my first fans,’ he continues.
Eh?
‘Her mother passed away recently. She never told her daughter…’
My mind is still racing: I don’t understand. Where is this going?
‘… who her real father was,’ he finishes.
He looks deflated and then it all falls into place. One of my worst nightmares has come true.
Johnny has a daughter. A daughter he never knew existed.
When Johnny first found out about Barney, the thought occurred to me that my son might not be Johnny’s only child. He made a mistake with me, not using a condom – what was to say that he didn’t make other mistakes with any of his seven hundred or so groupies? What was to stop one of them conceiving his child? I tried to persuade myself that they would have come forward by now – that no secret would have stayed hidden for this long. But maybe – like me – another woman felt the need to stay silent, the need to keep her child’s identity a secret for who knows what reason. Now, the truth has come out – and I don’t know why.
Johnny grips my hands tighter. I feel numb.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispers.
‘Tell me everything,’ I reply in a dull voice.
Wendel is based in London, and earlier today he spoke to an English man called Stuart Taylor, who claimed that Johnny was the father of his stepdaughter Jessica Pickerill. Wendel didn’t want to alarm Johnny immediately, so he’s worked through the night in the UK, checking as many facts as he could. He can confirm that Stuart’s wife, Candice, was killed in a tragic accident just over five months ago, leaving behind an only daughter, Jessica. Stuart claimed that Candice – Candy – was one of Johnny’s first groupies when he first kicked off his career with Fence, the band that would eventually make him famous. He said that Candy fell pregnant, but by then Johnny had gone on tour in Europe, and Candy, feeling sickened about being just another one of Johnny’s many groupies, decided to raise the baby on her own. As the years went by, she became increasingly fearful that her daughter would choose to leave home and live with her rock star father if she should ever find out the truth. So Candy kept it hidden. Now Stuart has told Jessica everything. And she wants to meet her dad.
All of the blood has drained from my face. ‘Do you remember her?’ I whisper. ‘Candy?’
Johnny looks away, but nods. ‘Yeah. I remember her.’
I feel like I’m going to throw up. ‘So it’s true?’
He doesn’t answer immediately. ‘There’s a chance that it is.’
‘But… But… What if she slept with someone else? What if this girl isn’t yours?’ My words come out in a rush.
‘That’s possible of course. Wendel is arranging a paternity test.’
I wrench my hands away from Johnny. He puts his hand on my shoulder, but I shrug him off. ‘Don’t touch me!’ I blurt, violently edging away.
‘Fuck,’ he mutters, covering his face with his hands.
‘Don’t you feel sorry for yourself!’ I all but shout. ‘I should have known this was going to happen when I married you!’
‘But you did marry me!’ he raises his voice in return, his expression fierce. ‘For better or for worse!’
My face crumbles and he takes me into his arms.
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry,’ he murmurs against my hair as a lump forms in my throat and hot tears spring into my eyes. ‘We’ll know as early as next week. It might be nothing to worry about.’
Deep in my heart, though, I know that Johnny will always give me something to worry about.
The next day, Wendel confirms that the paternity test has been delivered direct to the girl’s stepfather. They live in Maidenhead, in Berkshire. Jessica is only fifteen. I wonder what’s going through her mind, having just discovered that her father is Johnny Jefferson, one of the most recognisable people in the world.
I can’t even imagine.
It’ll be a few days before the tests come back. But in the meantime, Wendel emails through a picture of Jessica.
My heart sinks. We don’t need a paternity test. The evidence is right here in front of us. She looks just like her dad. And there’s no doubt in my mind that said dad is my husband.
My best friend Bess calls me on Tuesday afternoon when Johnny is at the studio. Despite the earth-shattering news, he’s determined to continue recording his album.
‘It’s been a pretty shit few days, to be honest,’ I tell
her glumly when she asks how I am.
‘What’s up?’ She sounds concerned.
It goes without saying that she’ll never repeat anything I tell her in confidence. ‘Johnny has a daughter.’
‘What?’ She’s aghast.
‘She’s fifteen. Her mother died recently, and her stepfather has only just told her the truth about who her dad is.’
Silence. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Pretty much. The paternity test results will come back in the next couple of days, but I’ve seen a picture. She looks just like him.’
‘In what way?’
‘Same eyes, tousled blonde hair… I don’t know, she just looks like him. She’s very pretty.’
‘Jesus. How’s Johnny taking it?’
I hesitate. ‘He’s knocked for six, to be honest.’
Last night I came downstairs after putting the kids to bed to find Johnny sitting out on the terrace, sucking the life out of a cigarette in much the same way as I’d imagine a vampire sucking the blood out of its victim.
‘Oh, hon,’ I’d said with disappointment.
‘Just don’t,’ he’d snapped, holding his hand up to keep me at bay.
‘It’s okay,’ I’d said gently, going over and taking his hand. It was shaking. ‘Oh, Johnny.’ I bent down and kissed him on the top of his head, then rubbed his rigid back, my heart going out to him. He inhaled a deep breath and exhaled unsteadily. I’ve rarely seen him so cut up. I’d been so hard on him the last couple of days, barely speaking to him, barely looking at him, too hurt and confused to consider that he might need consoling himself. Now I felt fiercely protective and horrendously guilty for pushing him away.
‘It’s going to be alright,’ I said, sitting down next to him on the sun-lounger and resting my chin on his shoulder. He didn’t look at me, taking another drag, but blowing the smoke away from me, so I knew he still cared. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been so distant, but we will get through this.’
‘I really want a fucking drink,’ he replied under his breath and terror pulsed through me. ‘I won’t.’ He glanced at me sharply before stabbing his fag out on the stone ground. ‘But I really fucking want one.’
‘We’ll get through this,’ I promised him again, more firmly this time.
‘He’s going to a meeting tonight,’ I tell Bess now. She knows I mean an AA meeting. ‘I think he might start smoking again, which makes me so sad after everything he went through to give up.’
‘Hey,’ she says gently. ‘What are you going to do if the test comes back positive?’
‘I don’t know. I’m sure it will come back positive, but it’s really down to the girl. Her name is Jessica. I don’t know what she’ll want to do. Presumably she’ll want to meet Johnny.’
I refrain from bitterly adding, ‘Who wouldn’t?’ It’s terrible of me to judge someone I don’t know, but she’s a teenage girl. How could she not be beside herself to discover that her dad is rich and famous?
And then I remember that she’s lost her mum and I can’t even imagine what she’s going through. A wave of sympathy crashes through me. I’m all over the bloody place. I’m trying so hard to stay calm and objective, but it’s difficult. Johnny and I have only been married a year and a half and now this huge damn curveball has been thrown at us. Our lives will never be the same again.
Johnny has a teenage daughter! Of course he’s going to have to see her, to get to know her, to support her. But what will she be like? What if she’s a boy-mad, badly behaved little shit? Seeing Dana again has reminded me how awful it was when she was with Johnny. I couldn’t bear to be back in LA with another loose cannon living in our house.
Anger surges through me once more, but I try to control it. After last night, I know I have to be rock-solid for Johnny. That’s the way it’s always been. I can’t risk him going off the rails again.
‘Have you told your parents, yet?’ Bess asks me.
‘No. Just Kitty.’ She called me the day after the premiere. She and Dex snogged each other that night at Chateau Marmont and they’ve since been on a proper date.
But as for telling my parents… ‘I’ll wait until the test results are confirmed.’ Delaying tactics. I’m dreading how they’ll react.
‘Shit,’ Bess says.
‘I really wish you were here,’ I murmur.
She sighs, then: ‘Do you want me to show you something to cheer you up?’
‘Show me something? You’re five and a half thousand miles away, how are you going to do that?’
‘It’s on the internet, you ninny.’ She instantly sounds more perky, and it has a knock-on effect of brightening my mood. ‘I can’t believe I’ve only just seen it,’ she adds.
‘Go on, then,’ I say.
‘Right. Go to YouTube and type in “Tom McFly’s wedding speech”.’
‘Tom from McFly’s wedding speech?’
‘Yeah. Trust me, you’ll love it. Hang on a sec, I’m going to watch it too, so I know which bit you’re crying at.’
‘Crying?’ I ask with alarm.
‘Just put it on,’ she snaps.
I purse my lips and follow her directions.
‘Are you ready?’ she asks.
‘Yep.’ Then I spy the clip length. ‘It’s nearly fifteen minutes long!’
‘Shut up. Okay, press Play on the count of three. One, two, three…’
Unconvinced, I press Play.
Fifteen minutes later…
‘Oh my God, that is SOOOOO cute!’ I squeal into the receiver, wiping away tears of emotion.
‘I know!’ Bess squeals back. ‘I want to marry him!’
‘Me too! I think that is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my life!’
‘Told you you’d love it,’ Bess says with glee.
‘Are you staring at pictures of puppies again?’
I jump at the sound of Johnny’s voice, spinning around on my swivel chair to see him standing at the doorway, one arm resting on the doorframe.
‘Johnny’s back,’ I tell Bess, sniffing loudly.
‘Don’t tell him about Tom, otherwise he’ll get a complex,’ she warns jokily.
Hmm…
‘Better go. Thanks for cheering me up. Chat tomorrow maybe?’
‘Sure. Call me anytime. Well, not in the middle of the night, obviously. Unless you really need to. If it’s a proper emergency—’
‘Bye, Bess,’ I laughingly interrupt.
‘See ya.’
We hang up. I look back at Johnny to see him standing there and I’m struck by an odd sense of déjà vu, remembering a time from our past when he would come into this office to chat to me, his employee. I was in love with him then and it hurt. It really hurt.
It still hurts…
‘What were you watching?’ he asks quietly, seeing the smile slip from my face.
‘Tom from McFly’s wedding speech,’ I reply dully.
He screws up his nose and comes into the office, pulling up the chair next to mine. ‘Tom from McFly?’
‘Yeah.’ I stare at him defiantly. Johnny has always picked on my taste in music, but I’ve always been a pop girl, not a rock chick.
He reaches over and presses Play. Tom starts to talk about how doesn’t know how to write a speech, but he does know how to write a song. And then he starts to sing his entire wedding speech and I love it all over again.
‘Well, I’m glad he’s managed to cheer you up,’ Johnny says sardonically.
‘I adore him!’
‘Fuck me,’ he snaps, reaching over and clicking on the pause button. ‘Wasn’t my wedding speech good enough for you?’
‘I would have preferred it if you’d sung a song,’ I tease him, even though, actually, his wedding speech was beautifully heartfelt and made everyone cry, including me.
‘Fucking hell,’ he mutters again, sitting back in his seat and eyeing me. ‘So what do you want to do, get married again?’
‘Are we getting a divorce first?’ I shoot back, raising one eyebrow.
&n
bsp; His brow creases. ‘Don’t say that.’
‘I’m only joking!’ I cry, reaching forward and taking his hands, hating how pear-shaped things have got between us.
‘I’ve written you loads of songs,’ he says crossly.
‘I know, I know, and they were lovely…’
‘Lovely?’ He’s appalled at the description and I can’t help but laugh. His face softens. He runs his fingertips down the side of my leg.
I lean towards him and gently rest my forehead against his. My earlier tension and anger feels long gone. I don’t know when it will return, but for now I just want to feel close to the love of my life again.
‘It’s going to be okay,’ he whispers.
I’ve been saying the same thing, but something tells me our lives will never be this perfect, ever again.
A couple of days later, we get the results back. Confirmed: fifteen-year-old Jessica Pickerill is Johnny’s biological daughter.
On Friday night, Johnny fills me in on the meeting Wendel had with her earlier that day in London.
‘She wants to meet me.’
Surprise, surprise.
‘You can’t blame her,’ he says, seeing the look on my face.
‘No, I know.’ I shake my head, feeling bad for letting my bitterness seep through to the surface again. ‘When?’
He shrugs. ‘I don’t know. The sooner the better, don’t you think?’
‘Isn’t she at school? Oh, I suppose she’s breaking up for the holidays soon.’ I answer my own question. ‘But what about our holiday?’
We had planned on going to a private island at the end of July, a sort of reward for all of the time Johnny’s been spending in the studio.
‘She can come afterwards,’ Johnny suggests.
‘No,’ I say quickly. ‘What about before? Just for a week?’
‘Really?’ He sounds hesitant. That would mean her coming out next week. ‘Are you sure?’
‘God, no, I’m anything but. But I don’t want this hanging over us all summer.’
‘Fair point,’ he says quietly.
‘Sorry, that sounded very selfish,’ I apologise, remembering that there’s a young girl’s feelings to consider, not just mine and my immediate family’s. ‘I imagine she’d prefer to meet you sooner rather than later, too,’ I add.