by Paige Toon
‘You hooked up with another girl in front of her.’
He doesn’t deny it. Then he nods quickly. ‘And at the next gig?’ I hardly dare to ask. He said he had two more gigs.
‘She didn’t come,’ he says quietly. ‘That was the last time I saw her.’
The lump is back, well and truly. I place my hand to my throat, but I can’t get rid of it. I really need to cry. No, I need to sob. I want to bawl my eyes out for Mum and how she must have felt. How heartbroken she must have been.
Johnny swivels on the bench seat to face me. I don’t want to look at him, but I do, and when I meet his eyes I’m surprised to see that his have filled with tears. ‘Why didn’t she tell me about you?’ he asks sorrowfully. ‘I don’t get it. I know I screwed up. I know she must’ve been angry.’
‘Heartbroken,’ I correct him.
He looks miserable as he nods, conceding.
‘But she still should have told me.’ Now I detect an underlying edge to his tone. He glances at me. ‘I had a right to know.’
‘What would you have done?’
He looks away again. ‘I don’t know.’ Then back at me. ‘But you, me, we should have known each other. It’s been fifteen years, Jessie.’
‘Tell me about it,’ I snap with a spark of irritation.
‘Christ,’ he mutters. ‘First Barney and now you.’
‘Barney?’ I’m confused.
‘Meg didn’t tell me he was mine, either.’
I’m shell-shocked. ‘You’re joking. What? How long?’
‘She was with someone else when we . . . You know . . .’ His voice trails off again. Bloody hell, he really is something. The tabloids didn’t need to exaggerate his reputation as a womaniser at all. Then I realise what he’s just said.
‘She didn’t tell you she was pregnant?’ I ask with astonishment. I didn’t think Meg was that . . . God, I want to say devious, but I know Mum kept quiet about me, too.
‘It wasn’t her fault.’ Johnny is quick to defend her. ‘She didn’t know the baby was mine. Christian was my best mate. She and I were together first, but I . . . well, I did her over and . . . Hell, you don’t want to know all this stuff.’
Actually, I do. ‘Tell me.’ I remember him saying that Christian was coming to visit. Is it the same man? Surely not. I ask the question.
‘Yeah,’ Johnny tells me. ‘It’s all water under the bridge now. Meg didn’t know about Barney being mine, not until he was older and he started to look like me.’
‘He looks just like you,’ I agree.
‘She did the right thing in the end,’ he says simply. I have a feeling that he makes it sound a lot simpler than it was. Maybe I should take Meg up on her offer to give me her side of the story sometime. But tonight is about Mum.
‘Mum didn’t tell you because she didn’t want to lose me,’ I say quietly. ‘She thought I’d leave her. That I’d prefer to have . . .’ I look around. ‘All of this, rather than the life we had.’ I turn to stare at Johnny face-on. ‘She was wrong.’
He meets my eyes for a long few seconds, then nods. ‘I get it.’
‘She was my mum.’ Tears fill my eyes. ‘Nothing would have made me choose you over her.’
He reaches over and places one hand on my shoulder. ‘But you could have had us both.’
A tear rolls down my cheek and I brush it away. Another one immediately follows.
‘I could have helped you,’ he says. ‘I could have helped her.’
I shake my head. ‘She wouldn’t have wanted your help. Not after what you did.’
‘I would have apologised,’ he says. ‘Hey, I’m not saying I would have changed. It’s taken me years of buggering up big time to do that,’ he says cynically. ‘But we could have had a relationship. You and I could have had a relationship.’
I sniff loudly and then laugh tearfully.
‘At least we can have one now,’ he adds, squeezing my shoulder and letting his hand drop.
I nod quickly, staring down at my hands resting on the table.
‘It’s late,’ he says. ‘You should get to bed. And I’d better go and face the music.’
‘She won’t really give you hell for smoking one cigarette, will she?’ I ask with a frown, as we get up from the table.
‘Do you know how much she’s been going on at me to quit?’ He raises one eyebrow. ‘Nah, she’ll be OK. She always is. And that’s why I love her so,’ he adds in a gently comic voice as we walk around the swimming pool towards the house.
His words make me smile, but the warmth I feel is followed by a prick of jealousy. I hope Meg knows how lucky she is. If Johnny had felt that way about my mum, how different would my life be?
‘So what about you and Jack Mitchell, hey?’ The irked look is firmly back in place on his face.
‘Do you know him?’ I ask.
‘I know his dad,’ he replies.
Aah, OK. ‘Well, Jack wants to see me again.’
‘Does he, now?’ Johnny does not sound amused.
‘I’m going to call him in the morning,’ I say, feeling a little torn, even as I say it. After waiting forever to meet my dad, am I really going to blow him off to spend part of my last day with some random guy? Erm, yes. Such is the problem with chemistry. Besides, now that we’ve finally had our heart-to-heart, I’m sure I’ll see more of Johnny after this trip.
Perhaps Johnny senses my determination, because he doesn’t argue. ‘Just watch out for him,’ is what he says. ‘His dad Billy was worse than me, back in the day.’
‘In what way?’
‘He partied hard.’
‘Who says Jack is like his dad?’ I ask with mild provocation.
‘The apple rarely falls far from the tree.’
‘Speak for yourself,’ I snap, but he winks at me. I take a deep breath, realising that he’s teasing me.
‘I’m going to lock up and switch the lights off down here,’ he says as we go back inside. ‘Go get some rest, it’s pretty late.’
‘OK.’ I yawn widely, tiredness washing over me like a wave. Everything seems quiet upstairs. Meg must’ve gone to bed. I start to walk up the first couple of steps and then stop, remembering something. ‘Johnny?’ I call over to him as he locks the sliding door.
‘Yep?’ He flicks off a light and heads my way.
‘I meant to say earlier, thanks for the dress.’ The black lace Roberto Cavalli has made me feel special all night long.
‘You’re welcome,’ he says with a warm smile. ‘You look beautiful.’
I return his smile and carry on up the stairs, but I hear him murmur, ‘Just like your mum.’
Chapter 17
I can hear Meg doing breakfast for the boys in the kitchen when I come out of my room the next morning. I have a headache and feel decidedly ropey from the booze I drank last night.
Eddie doesn’t work on weekends, and I can’t hear Johnny downstairs. He’s probably still in bed after our late one. It’s where I should be. Despite my exhaustion, I didn’t sleep well. And thanks to my continuing jet lag, I’m still waking up at the crack of dawn. I’m sure I would have been able to doze off again if it weren’t for my mind ticking over. So much happened last night. If it wasn’t the conversation with Johnny playing over and over in my head, it was the conversation with Jack. Jittery nerves ripple through me when I think of him. I wonder if he was serious about catching up today. I’m still feeling torn. I know that I should probably forget all about him and spend my last day with my family, but I’m drawn to him and that’s something I can’t control.
I take a deep breath before I reach the kitchen.
‘Hi,’ I say meekly to Meg, staying where I am in the doorway.
‘Hey.’ She sounds less friendly than normal. She’s feeding Phoenix in his high chair. Barney is humming away to himself as he munches his way through a bowlful of Rice Krispies.
‘I’m sorry about last night.’ I don’t usually find apologies easy, but this one needs to be said. ‘I didn’t mean to k
ick off. I think I had a bit too much to drink,’ I admit.
‘It’s OK.’ She seems slightly appeased. ‘Johnny said you had a bit of a heart-to-heart.’
‘Yeah. I feel better after talking to him.’
‘Good.’ She smiles up at me.
I go over to the table and pull out a chair. She spoons another mouthful of cereal into Phoenix’s waiting mouth. He looks like a little bird.
‘I don’t suppose you have any headache tablets?’ I ask.
‘In the cupboard next to the fridge.’
I get up and hunt them out, helping myself to a glass of water from the dispenser on the front of the fridge. It makes ice, too. I thought that was pretty cool when I found out.
‘Help yourself to toast or cereal,’ she says. ‘Sadly, no Eddie today.’
I said goodbye to him yesterday. ‘Actually, didn’t he leave some pancakes in the fridge?’ I ask.
‘Did he?’
‘He told me that he would, seeing as he wouldn’t be here to cook my last couple of breakfasts.’
‘Aw, that was sweet,’ she says.
‘Tell me about it.’ I get up to look and there, on a plate in the centre of the fridge, is a stack of about ten thick, fluffy, American-style pancakes.
‘Awesome.’ I half laugh as I say this, pulling the plate out and showing it to Meg.
‘Whoa,’ she says.
‘Pancakes!’ Barney shouts, his eyes lighting up as he spies them.
‘Will you guys have some?’ I ask.
‘Yeah, whack ‘em all in,’ Meg replies with a grin.
Johnny appears when we’re down to the last few.
‘Hey,’ he says, leaning down to peck Meg on her lips.
‘Urgh.’ She grimaces and pulls away, giving him a dirty look.
‘I’ll come back when I’ve brushed my teeth,’ he says with a wry grin, patting me on my shoulder as he strolls back out of the kitchen.
‘I hate it when he smokes,’ Meg mutters, pushing her plate aside.
‘Yeah, sorry about that,’ I say guiltily. ‘I think that might’ve been my fault.’
‘He’s a big boy,’ she replies darkly, but then her face softens. ‘I can’t complain too much. He’s changed a lot for me.’
I remember what Johnny told me last night. About Christian. ‘You still haven’t told me how you went from being employed by Johnny to being married to him,’ I say.
She glances at Barney. ‘Hmm, yeah, I did say I’d tell you about that. But now’s probably not the right time.’ She ruffles Barney’s head and gets up to clear the table. Story of my life. When is it ever the right time?
After breakfast I go and get Jack’s card from my bedside table. I nearly had a fit this morning wondering where I’d put it because I didn’t take a bag last night, but then I remembered I stuffed it in my bra. It was still there this morning, looking slightly worse for wear.
Annie put a phone up in my bedroom after that first morning, so I don’t have to go back downstairs to the office. I feel nervous as I pick up the receiver. Is this too early? It’s only nine-thirty. Will I look too keen? Probably. Have I got anything to lose when I’m leaving tomorrow anyway? Probably not.
I stare down at Jack’s card. It’s black with yellow, scratchy-looking writing. Underneath his name it says ‘All Hype’, which I’m guessing is the name of his band. There’s a mobile number, email address and web address.
Hmm. I know what will pass some time so I don’t look too keen.
I skip downstairs and round the bend into the office. It’s empty because Annie, like Eddie, doesn’t work on weekends. I pull up a chair and switch on the spare desk’s computer.
A quick internet search brings up several hits for Jack Mitchell, mostly photos of him in the band, snapped by fans. My heart flips as I click on one, revealing a hot and sweaty, but still undeniably sexy, Jack singing into a microphone with a guitar hanging on a strap around his neck. He’s gorgeous. His black hair is wet with sweat, and his T-shirt is damp, too, but he radiates sex. I can see his POW! tattoo on the arm holding the mic, the leather wrist straps also visible. I wonder when this pic was taken? Only recently, I’m guessing. I’d love to see him play in person. I remember with a sting that Charlotte said he had a gig at the beginning of August.
Charlotte! I haven’t even thought about her since last night. I can’t believe I met Macy from Little Miss Mulholland! Libby would do her nut in. All of a sudden I feel sad. Sad and tired. How did I let us grow apart so badly? She was a good friend to me. When I get home, I really need to try and make it up to her somehow, but I have a horrible feeling that we’ll never be as close as we were.
I sigh and click on another link. And at the sight of Jack looking drop dead gorgeous in yet another on-stage shot, some of my bad thoughts fly out the window.
I make it until ten-thirty before I call him. He sounds sleepy when he answers. My heart is pounding like a jackhammer.
‘Hi, Jack? It’s Jessie.’
‘Jessie . . .’
Shit! He doesn’t remember me! Have I got the wrong number? Was that a seven instead of a one on his card?
‘Oh, Jessie!’ he suddenly exclaims. ‘Jessie from last night, right?’
‘I said I’d call.’ I try to sound casual.
‘So you did.’
My nerves intensify. Did he definitely want me to? I press on. ‘Have I woken you up? You sound half asleep.’
‘I kind of actually still am.’
‘You want me to call back later?’
‘No, as wake up calls go, this one’s pretty good.’
He sounds like he’s smiling so I relax a bit. ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Pause. ‘Did you stay late last night?’
‘Couple more hours.’
I wonder what he got up to. Whatever it was, I hope it wasn’t with a girl.
‘My bro got me on the decks,’ he elaborates.
‘Did he?’ Phew. ‘What did you play, One Direction?’
He laughs a deep, low laugh that sends a shiver up and down my spine. ‘I would have played them for you if you’d stayed.’
‘Bullshit,’ I reply with a grin.
‘Yeah, you’re right.’
Warmth spreads through my belly.
‘What are you doing later?’ he asks.
‘No plans for this afternoon.’
‘I can’t do this afternoon. I’ve got band practice. I forgot my sister persuaded my bandmates to play at her birthday party tonight.’
‘She asked them without asking you first?’
‘She knew I’d say no.’ He says this fondly.
‘Why?’
‘You’ll understand when you meet my sister.’
What’s he saying? ‘Er, when am I going to meet your sister?’
‘At her party, tonight.’ He says it like it’s a sure thing.
I laugh. ‘I haven’t told you if I’m busy, yet.’
‘Are you?’
‘Well, I . . .’ Shouldn’t I be having a last dinner with Johnny and Meg? ‘I’d better check with Johnny and Meg first. Make sure they don’t need me.’
‘OK,’ he says slowly.
‘But it should be fine,’ I tell him quickly. I really, really want to see him again. And at least I can spend the day with Johnny, Meg and the boys. Barney and Phoenix will be asleep tonight, anyway.
‘Cool.’
‘Do you want to tell me your address?’ I ask.
‘I’ll come and pick you up if you like.’
‘That would be great. What time?’
‘Seven-thirty? It will give me an excuse to get out of here.’
‘Is that all I am to you?’ I tease. ‘An excuse to get you out of helping?’
‘Oh, you’re much more to me than that.’
What a flirt!
‘See you later,’ he says.
‘Wait, don’t you need my address?’
‘I know where Johnny Jefferson lives. Everyone does.’
‘OK, see you later.’
‘Bye.’
I have the biggest smile on my face as I hang up. I flop back on to the bed and beam up at the ceiling. Thoughts of Tom flicker through my mind, making my smile waver. I wonder if he’s thought about me much since I left. He’s probably on his way to Ibiza where he won’t be short of attention. I try to close my mind off to him – and my guilt along with it. I should live in the here and now while I can. It’s been a long time since I felt happy and full of anticipation.
I glance out of the windows at the trees and the blue sky beyond. So how am I going to spend my last day with Johnny? Swimming pool. Easy. Better apply lots of suncream though. Sunburn is not an accessory I plan to utilise.
I climb off the bed and go to the tall white wardrobes, opening the one on the left. My bikini is three drawers down – freshly washed and laundered yesterday afternoon by Carly, one of the two lovely maids. The other maid, Sharon, is sweet, too. She tidied up my room and made my bed when I went down for breakfast. It’s going to be a bit strange going back to my tiny house at home. I stand on the fluffy shagpile carpet and do a three-sixty degree turn around the room. Yep, it’s going to be hard.
Johnny is watching TV when I return downstairs, my white sarong tied around my waist. It’s a testament to how much more comfortable I feel around him now.
‘Going for a dip in the pool. You fancy it?’ I ask him.
‘Um . . .’ He looks pretty engrossed in whatever it is he’s watching. Racing cars of some sort.
‘I’ll join you,’ Meg says, coming out of the kitchen. ‘Come on Johnny, it’s Jessie’s last day.’
‘Yeah, alright,’ he says, reaching for the remote and switching off the telly. ‘Be out in a sec.’
I walk outside and stand for a short while on the warm stone, looking up at the sky. The day is not too hot, yet. It’s perfect. I go and stand on the top step of the pool and stare down at the city. The sky is clear, the smog not too bad for a change. I glance over at the polished concrete bench table where Johnny and I sat last night. It seems so unreal: the party and then coming back here. I still feel very much like I’m in the middle of a dream, and right now I wish I had access to some strong sleeping tablets, because I don’t want to wake up.
I step back out of the pool, take my sarong off and throw it on a sunlounger. Then I walk down to the deep end, take a deep breath, and dive.