by Paige Toon
‘Come on, maybe we should go to your dad’s place,’ he says gently, his brown eyes crinkling with concern.
I stare at him, incredulous. I can’t believe he’s saying that to me. ‘No!’ I raise my voice. ‘I’m sick of feeling like a prisoner! I just want some alone time with my boyfriend – is that too much to ask?’
‘Hey,’ he says softly, sliding his arms round my waist and pulling me against his firm chest. To my surprise, I discover I’m fighting back tears…
‘Kiss me,’ I demand, tilting my face up to him.
He touches his lips to mine, but withdraws all too quickly. ‘We’re parked in somebody’s driveway,’ he says uncertainly.
I start to laugh, but the sound is verging on manic, the laugh of a crazy person who’s been locked up for too long.
I take a few steps backwards, away from him. He snatches my hand and pulls me towards him and this time he kisses me like he means it. The sun, surprisingly warm for October, beats down on our heads as his hands circle my waist and then he pushes me back against the car door and traps me with his body. We kiss like it’s our last, and it is so, so sweet. I draw a sharp breath as he wrenches his lips away from mine and stares past me, over the car roof. His whole body tenses.
‘The van,’ he says in a low, urgent voice.
Before I can roll my eyes, I hear it, like thunder, hurtling towards us. And then it screeches to a stop and my heart stops with it because I know we’re in danger.
‘RUN!’ I scream at the sight of the two men in the front seat. I shove Tom away from me. ‘RUN!’
But he grabs my hand to pull me with him and then, suddenly, Sam’s car squeals into the road. He crashes his car straight into the back of the van and it lurches forward, then Sam is out of his vehicle and running around to the front and, oh my God, he has a gun!
‘Get out of the car!’ he shouts in a commanding voice.
But the driver revs the engine and screeches forward. Sam holds his ground, but doesn’t fire, and then the driver swerves towards him and I scream Sam’s name, distracting him for a split second before he leaps out of the way.
‘SAM!’ I scream again, as I see him fall to the ground. The van roars off up the hill, away from us. Somewhere in the distance, police sirens are wailing.
‘Get into Tom’s car!’ Sam shouts at me, before speaking into a CB radio attached to his belt. He’s clutching his left leg and I can see that he’s hurt.
I run towards him, yanking my hand away from Tom.
‘Stay back, goddammit!’ Sam shouts at me, but I ignore him.
‘What happened?’ I gasp, as I reach his side.
‘Got hit by their van,’ he replies gruffly. ‘Now get back into Tom’s car right away, or so help me God…’
Everyone is angry with me. Stu, Sam and Johnny. Especially Johnny.
‘What the hell were you thinking?’ he shouts down the phone later that evening, after I’ve been discharged from hospital. Tom and I were both treated for shock, but Sam had to stay in – he has a small fracture in his leg, which will put him out of action for a while.
‘Sam could’ve been killed! YOU could’ve been killed!’
‘I know,’ I mumble.
I’ll never forget the look on Caroline’s face when she arrived at the hospital. She was terrified and I felt so bad. It was all my fault.
The sound of me crying softens Johnny’s tone somewhat. ‘We’re going to have to talk, Jess,’ he says. ‘You can’t go on like this.’
Things are changing so fast and there’s nothing I can do about it. I think for the first time that maybe I don’t want to be Johnny Jefferson’s daughter. Then I bury the thought guiltily.
Needless to say, I’m not allowed to go back to school. The story about ‘the Jessie Jefferson kidnapping plot’ was on the front page of three of the nationals today. Poor Tom has had to go and stay with his uncle because his house is under siege.
Sam had been in contact with the police from the moment he’d realised I was missing, and they apprehended the would-be kidnappers at the top of the hill. The men are now in custody. They’d been following Tom only since that morning, hoping an opportunity would present itself, and I gave them one on a platter.
Bruce returns to cover security temporarily, but Sam comes to the house as soon as he’s out of hospital. I find him in the hallway, leaning on crutches as he talks to Stu. It’s strange to see him out of a suit, in his simple grey T-shirt and denim jeans.
‘Sam!’ I cry, running down the stairs.
‘Careful,’ he warns. ‘Don’t trip.’
I throw my arms round him.
‘Oof,’ he grumbles.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I say, the tears in my eyes threatening to spill over.
‘S’all good, Jessie. Could’ve been a lot worse.’
‘I’ll never forgive myself,’ I whisper.
‘Don’t beat yourself up. I should’ve known what you were up to sooner.’
‘No, I’m entirely to blame,’ I say fervently. ‘Johnny is furious with me. But how did you find us?’ I ask him. I know now that the kidnappers were watching Tom, but the question of how Sam tracked us down has been plaguing me since it happened.
‘I put a tracker on Tom’s car.’
‘What?’ I gasp.
He raises one eyebrow at me. ‘Your boyfriend gets his driving licence and you’re not gonna make a run for it? I wasn’t born yesterday.’
I throw my arms back round him and hug him tightly, feeling more grateful to him than I could ever express in words.
I hope he knows it.
Johnny is the one to break the news to me. He wants me to go to LA.
‘Not forever, just until things settle down over there. I know you don’t want to leave Tom, but you owe it to him and your friends to let the attention die down.’
I’m so desperate to escape this mess that it doesn’t take much for me to agree, but it breaks my heart to be leaving Tom and Stu, and all my friends.
Tom, Lou, Natalie and Chris come over the day before I leave. I don’t ask Libby. She’s called me several times, but I can’t forgive her. Not yet. Not when she’s contributed to everything that’s happening right now. Still, I can’t help but miss her and, in the end, I regret not inviting her.
Sam will return to LA with me, but Bruce is staying on to look after Stu, just to be on the safe side. He’ll be able to go home soon, though.
Sometime towards the end of my leaving do, I take Tom off to my bedroom. We don’t have long, so I don’t want to waste time talking. I don’t know when I’ll get to kiss him again.
‘I’m going to miss you,’ I say against his lips, as we lie side by side on the bed. He makes a sound that tells me the feeling is mutual. I run my hands through his hair and kiss him passionately as he clutches my body tightly against his.
I don’t want to leave him. I don’t want to lose him, so I cling to him like I’m trying to cling to my old life.
With a low groan coming from somewhere deep inside his throat, he pulls away from me. His face is flushed, his pupils are dilated and we’re both breathing heavily. My eyes follow him as he climbs off the bed and paces the floor for a moment. Then he reluctantly turns round and holds his hand out to me, offering me a regretful smile. I take his hand with a sigh and stand up.
As goodbyes go, that was pretty sweet. But now it’s time for me to return to the City of Angels, to the land of the rich and famous, to the house of my superstar dad.
I don’t feel anywhere near ready, but it’s time to be Jessie Jefferson.
Chapter 18
Sam and I sit side by side in First Class, barely speaking during the whole flight to LA. Davey, Johnny’s friendly-faced limo driver, is waiting when we arrive. Davey has a big smile and a personality to match, and he clasps Sam’s hand warmly before turning to me.
‘Miss Pickerill.’
‘Jessie,’ Sam and I correct him at the same time.
Davey’s eyes are bright with amusement a
s they dart between us. ‘Well, I see you two have become better acquainted during your time in the UK.’
‘Mmm-hmm,’ Sam rumbles wryly and I flash a rueful glance at his crutches.
Sam sits in the front with Davey, so I have the rest of the limousine to myself. It’s ridiculously roomy, the bench seat running all the way down one side and along the back of the car. I reach across to open the fridge and smile when I spy little cartons of milk. A burst of excitement explodes in my gut at the thought of seeing my half-brothers again.
I feel slightly wary of seeing Johnny and Meg. Johnny must certainly still be angry with me and surely that means Meg is, too. She adores Sam and I could have got him killed.
Eventually we’re driving through the gates of Bel Air and, despite the tension in my stomach, I put the window down and stick my head out. It’s a warm and sunny afternoon, not a cloud in the sky, and I inhale deeply, the smell of freshly-cut grass filling my nostrils.
We start to climb into the hills and I smile at the sight of Charlotte Tremway’s house behind a high brick wall. It’s practically a palace.
I’m a little nervous as we pull up at the gates to Johnny’s mansion. Lewis, another one of Johnny’s security staff, waves at his colleagues from the guardhouse and smiles broadly at the sight of Sam.
The car travels along the winding driveway and the trees that obscure the house come into view. Their leaves have turned yellowy-orange and have started to drop. I see my bedroom window through the branches. My bedroom. The front door opens and Meg comes out, closely followed by Johnny – and then Gramps! It cheered me up to hear that our paths would cross – he’s heading back to the UK in a few days.
Davey opens the car door, and then Barney is upon me.
‘JESSIE!’ he shouts, and I giggle as he jumps up and down with excitement. I didn’t even see him come outside.
‘Come and see my helicopter!’
‘Hello!’ Meg calls with a smile, engulfing me in a hug as soon as I’m close. ‘Thank God you’re OK!’ she says on an exhalation of breath.
Isn’t she mad at me?
I pull away and look at her in confusion, but she steps back to make way for Gramps.
‘Glad you’re OK, kiddo,’ he says, giving me a quick squeeze before releasing me, and then Johnny’s arms are around me and he’s holding me tightly and stroking my hair. It’s easily the longest hug he’s ever given me, and I’m so taken aback that I extract myself first. His green eyes are full of concern as he stares at me and shakes his head.
‘Aren’t you angry with me?’ I ask.
‘Yes.’ He nods decisively.
Oh.
‘Furious,’ he adds.
Whoops.
‘But I’m glad you’re safe,’ he continues, to my relief. ‘If anything had happened to you…’ He shakes his head.
Yes, I imagine he would feel guilty. But maybe there’s more to it than that…
Just as I think that thought, he pulls me back into his arms. My stomach goes all fluttery. This is my dad. My real dad. And he cares about me. Quite a lot from the length of the hug going on here. OK, now it’s getting hard to breathe.
He pulls away. ‘Don’t ever do anything like that again!’ he warns angrily, the smile gone from his face.
‘I won’t.’ I shake my head vigorously.
‘I mean it. Security is there for your protection. If I say you need a bodyguard, you need a bodyguard!’
‘I get it.’
‘Good.’ He grins and gives me another squeeze, making me think he’s got some sort of personality disorder which sends him bouncing from happy to mad in seconds.
‘I really am sorry,’ I say sincerely.
He shakes his head, wrapping his arm round my neck and walking me towards the house. ‘No. This is my fault.’
‘Come on, Jessie!’ Barney distracts us.
‘What?’ I say to Johnny, baffled by what he’s just said. ‘No, it’s not, it’s—’
‘We’ll talk about it later,’ he cuts me off, nodding with a smile at his young son jumping up and down at our feet. ‘More important things to attend to.’
I smile at him and follow Barney into the living room.
The first time I saw Johnny and Meg’s house, I was lost for words. Set high up in the hills, floor-to-ceiling panes of glass look out onto the sun-drenched terrace with its infinity pool and view of LA far down below in the valley. At night, the stars above have to compete with the city lights, and inside it’s just as stunning.
In complete contrast to their opulent English mansion, this pad is slick and modern, with large, spacious areas and cool designer furniture. The living room runs almost the entire length of the back of the house and is mostly a double-height space, with the kitchen off to one side. Polished concrete stairs in the middle of the living space lead up to a landing safeguarded by a low wall, with the bedrooms and Johnny’s studio leading off it. Underneath the bedrooms, behind the living room, are the office, a gym and a private cinema.
After being momentarily blinded by the afternoon sunshine spilling in through the enormous windows, I spy Phoenix watching CBeebies on the huge flatscreen telly.
‘Phee!’ I cry, scooping him up into my arms and kissing one of his chubby cheeks.
‘Phee?’ Meg asks me with a smile. ‘I think that’s going to stick,’ she says.
Phee and Bee, my little brothers.
Apparently Meg has lined up a tutor for me. I’ll be taking lessons at home so I won’t fall behind on my GCSEs. But this week I’ll just be settling in and getting over my jet lag. I didn’t sleep at all on the plane – too much adrenalin – so now I’m hitting the ground running, trying to go for as long as possible before I call it a night. I don’t want to be waking up at 3 a.m. to a silent house and be raring to go.
I do, however, slip out after a while to call Stu – and Tom.
‘I can’t believe you’re gone…’ Tom’s deep voice travels down the line. ‘It’s only just starting to sink in.’
‘I know what you mean,’ I reply. ‘It all happened so fast.’
‘I’m going back to school tomorrow,’ he says. ‘It won’t be the same without you.’
‘So soon?’ I ask with surprise.
‘I need a distraction,’ he replies glumly.
‘Will you call me after school?’
‘Sure. Should I use your mobile?’ he asks.
‘No, let me give you the home number.’ He waits while I fidget through my phone and relay it to him. ‘Did you get that?’ I ask.
‘Yeah.’ He laughs and I can almost see him shaking his head. ‘I still can’t believe you’re staying with Johnny Jefferson.’
‘Mmm,’ I reply with a smile. I don’t tell him that I’m already loving it.
It doesn’t take long for Agnes to call to arrange a catch-up. Within a few days, Davey is driving me to see her with Lewis in tow. Sam still hasn’t returned to work full-time – he’s certainly not up to being a personal bodyguard – and Johnny is taking no chances.
Agnes and I are meeting at one of our old haunts, the Skybar in the Mondrian Hotel in Hollywood. She’s already there when I arrive, sitting in the warm autumnal sunshine, tapping away on her iPad. She’s taller than me by a couple of inches and her black hair is cut into an edgy, blunt bob. Her eyeliner, as usual, is drawn on thick, but today her lips are neutral. She wants to be a fashion designer and always looks very cool. Today she’s wearing a yellow minidress, her legs still tanned from summer.
She’s so engrossed in what she’s doing that she doesn’t see me until I’m standing right over her table.
‘Good morning,’ I say in a plummy English accent, making her head whip up in surprise.
‘Jessie!’ she gasps, getting to her feet.
‘Hello.’ I giggle as she hugs me.
‘I can’t believe you’re back!’
‘Neither can I,’ I admit, a bit unhappily.
‘I heard what happened!’ she whispers, her face paling slightly as s
he pulls me to sit next to her on a bench seat running the length of the city-view window. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m alright.’ I shrug, bizarrely aware of Lewis standing on the other side of the bar, near the door. I notice I’m getting a couple of curious glances from the clientele at the bar, but people are used to seeing full-blown A-listers here in Hollywood, so hopefully I’ll be mostly ignored. ‘None of this feels real, to be honest. It hasn’t for months.’
Her eyes narrow. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?’
‘Sorry.’ I don’t know why I didn’t. Or maybe I do.
‘Obviously I read about what happened,’ she adds significantly.
‘It felt pretty hairy there for a minute,’ I admit with a small shrug.
She calls out to a passing waitress. ‘Excuse me!’ The waitress comes over and Agnes turns to me: ‘What would you like?’
I order a latte and then fall into a thoughtful silence. I should have told Agnes about Tom. It’s not like we haven’t texted back and forth a few times. The truth is that I didn’t want Jack to know. Being with Tom means I’m strictly off limits, but I guess I wanted to see if Jack would contact me of his own accord.
And he did.
Enough of that. Now Agnes needs the gossip. So I plaster a smile on my face that soon becomes genuine as I tell her all about Tom Ryder, the hottest boy in school.
‘Do you love him?’ she asks, a slight crease between her dark eyebrows.
‘I don’t know,’ I reply carefully. I glance at Lewis, but he’s pretending not to pay us any attention. ‘I think so, but we haven’t said it yet.’
She takes a sip of her coffee. ‘Jack told me he texted you.’
My heart unwittingly spikes at the mention of his name. ‘Yeah.’ I try to nod casually. ‘That was sweet.’
‘So you don’t have the hots for him any more?’
I’m not surprised by her directness – Agnes is nothing if not direct – but I still tense up.
‘You said it yourself, he’s trouble.’
‘That didn’t exactly answer my question,’ she points out.
‘I’m with Tom now.’
‘Still not answering my question,’ she notes with amusement.