Johnny Be Good

by Toon, Paige

  ‘Me too!’ She glances at Christian.

  ‘Kitty, this is Christian, Johnny’s friend.’

  ‘Hi! Really nice to meet you.’ They shake hands. ‘Are you from England, too?’ she asks.

  ‘Yeah, Newcastle.’

  Kitty nods and smiles, blankly. ‘Is Johnny here tonight?’ she asks us.

  ‘Yes,’ I reply. And it would be nice if he came back and joined us. ‘Charlie’s here, too,’ she says. ‘Oh, great.’ I roll my eyes. ‘Who’s Charlie?’ Christian whispers, conspiratorially. ‘Isla Montagne’s PA,’ Kitty explains. ‘Shit, she’s not here, is she?’ Christian asks.

  ‘Yes, why?’ Kitty replies.

  ‘Better keep her away from Johnny. She’s bonkers. She went a bit doolally over him a year or so ago.’

  ‘Really?’ Kitty loves a bit of gossip.

  ‘I probably shouldn’t have told you that,’ Christian says. ‘Don’t say anything.’

  Kitty grins. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t. Anyway, she’s over him now I’m sure.’ She looks at me. ‘She is moving to England.’

  ‘Really? What’s Charlie doing?’

  ‘She’s resigned.’

  ‘No shit?’

  ‘Why is Isla moving to England?’ Christian butts in.

  ‘You tell him,’ I say to Kitty. ‘I’m just going to nip to the ladies’ room. He’s a journalist. Give him an exclusive!’ I wink at Christian and make my way indoors.

  Christian shouts after me, ‘I’m not that sort of journalist!’

  It’s even more crowded inside. I look around for Johnny, but can’t see him anywhere. Nor, for that matter, can I see the bathrooms. I peek my head into a room, hoping to spy one or the other. As I turn around to exit it, I come face to face with Charlie.

  ‘Argh!’ I shout.

  ‘I heard about what you did.’ Her tone is snide.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Johnny. Detoxing.’

  ‘Oh, right. Yes.’

  ‘You could have killed him!’ she erupts.

  I’m astonished. ‘I could have killed him? What the hell have you heard?’

  ‘Withdrawal from alcohol has to be treated properly!’

  ‘Come off it,’ I mock. ‘Going cold turkey hasn’t ever killed anyone.’

  ‘Are you out of your mind? You’re not supposed to go cold turkey when you’re an alcoholic. You’re supposed to be weaned off the booze with drugs.’

  Is that true? Oh. ‘What makes you such an expert?’ I ask, backtracking.

  ‘My stepmother was an alcoholic,’ she informs me.

  I picture a young Charlie, growing up without her real mother, having to live with an evil alcoholic stepmother instead. I almost feel sorry for her.

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t really say he’s a proper alcoholic. And anyway, he’s better now,’ I say, sullenly.

  ‘He doesn’t look better to me…’

  She nods behind me. I turn in time to see Johnny plonk an empty shot glass down on a tabletop and slap a cool-looking indie-rocker guy on his back. Oh, God. I turn back to face Charlie.

  ‘Do you know where the bathrooms are?’ I ask, melancholically.

  ‘Over there.’ She points.

  ‘See you later, Charlie,’ I say, hoping that the opposite will be true.

  I come out of the bathroom to witness Johnny doing another shot. Should I go over to him? Try to stop him? I watch in despair as he grabs a bottle of vodka and swigs straight from the neck.

  No. It’s too late for intervention. He’s too far gone.

  I rejoin a laughing Kitty and Christian.

  ‘You okay?’ Christian’s face falls when he sees mine.

  ‘Johnny’s doing shots inside.’

  His shoulders slump. ‘Nothing we can do about it, Meg.’

  I cast my eyes longingly indoors.

  ‘Meg,’ he says. ‘I think you should let it go.’

  ‘I have let it go,’ I reply, irritated.

  Kitty looks uncomfortable standing next to us.

  ‘Good,’ Christian says, bluntly. ‘I’m going to the bar. Are we sticking with cocktails?’

  ‘Sounds good!’ Kitty enthuses.

  I nod, half-heartedly.

  ‘He’s lovely!’ Kitty gushes as soon as Christian has walked off. My stomach tightens. ‘Has he got a girlfriend?’ she asks.

  ‘No,’ I reply, sharply. ‘Actually, I don’t know. Maybe he does,’ I add, looking away.

  ‘He really likes you,’ she says.

  I look back at her quickly. ‘What do you mean? In what way?’

  ‘You know, in that way.’

  ‘What makes you say that?’ I ask, stomach still tight, but not unpleasantly so.

  ‘Just the way he talks about you.’

  ‘Really?’ I don’t believe it. ‘What have you been saying?’

  ‘Just the tour and a few things like that. How you both like kiddies’ cereal.’ She grins.

  Christian returns, struggling to carry three glasses. ‘Hurry! Take ’em!’ Kitty and I laughingly do as he says. Then I adopt a serious expression.

  ‘I can’t believe you told her about our Pebbles addiction.’

  His face becomes grave. ‘I thought it was best to face up to it, Meg. It’s the only way we can combat it properly.’

  ‘But I’m not ready to give it up, yet, Christian. It’s too soon.’

  He puts his hand on my arm and looks into my eyes. ‘I know. It will be okay.’

  Kitty giggles and gives me a cheeky grin. I sneakily pull a face at her then look past her to see Johnny on the other side of the pool, coldly watching us. I’d forgotten about him for a moment. I mouth, ‘Are you okay?’

  Christian glances at me then over at Johnny, just in time to catch him striding back indoors. My heart sinks.

  I don’t enjoy myself after that, and I know I’m bringing the mood down. It’s so hard keeping it together when I have no control over what Johnny does. I tell the others that I fancy a wander inside. I’m sure Christian knows I’m going after Johnny.

  He’s not in the first room I look in, or the next. I finally find him after five minutes of searching. He’s sitting on a sofa, and a bikini-clad girl is sitting astride him. He looks up and sees me, but acts like he hasn’t, taking the girl’s hands and pulling her into him, tighter. He reaches around and spanks her bottom, hard, and she responds by slapping his chest, playfully. Then he runs his hands through her long, brown hair and pulls her in for a snog.

  Darkness clouds my vision and I think I’m going to faint. I back away, clutching my throat. I have to get away from here. I rush back through the crowd and past the swimming pool, barely registering the two A-listers I spot along the way. I run out of the gates, not caring that I’m leaving Christian and Kitty behind. The paparazzi straighten up and take notice when I appear, then relax back into conversation with each other when they realise I’m a nobody.

  I hurry down the road, tears streaming down my face. I’ll walk home from here. I’m pretty sure I remember the way.

  But after ten minutes, I start to doubt I know the right way after all. Everything looks the same, and I wasn’t really paying attention in the car. My feet are killing me in these heels and I’m tempted to take them off, but there are cactus plants on the side of the road and, knowing me, I’ll step in some prickles or broken glass, and end up bloody and bruised, as well as tear-streaked and desperate.

  How could he do that to me? He saw me standing there and kissed her anyway. I thought I meant more to him than that. These last few days…He’s been so nice to me. I thought he cared about me. I thought…I know it’s crazy, but I did think that there might be a future…How could you be so idiotic, Meg? Oh God, what am I going to do now? Where the hell am I?

  The tears fall heavier and I’m suddenly struck by the stupidity of my actions. I think I’m lost. I picture a rapist or murderer spotting a helpless girl on the side of the road and snatching me away. That would teach Johnny! That’s my first thought, my second is, holy shit, I
’m scared now.

  I’ll call Davey. Dammit, I’ve left my bag back at the party! This is the worst night ever!

  Headlights appear around the corner and I jump back, trying to hide behind some bushes. The car slows down. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, this is it. Can I run in these heels? Maybe they won’t see me. Argh, they’ve pulled over!

  ‘Meg!’

  It’s Christian.

  ‘Christian!’ I cry, coming out from the bushes.

  Another car appears around the corner. Christian leans across from the driver’s seat and opens the door. ‘Get in, quick!’ He’s parked dangerously.

  I climb in and close the door behind me, then wipe away some of my tears. He checks his rear-view mirror and pulls away from the kerb.

  ‘What happened?’ he asks, glancing at me.

  I shake my head.

  ‘Meg?’

  ‘I can’t talk about it.’ My voice is croaky from crying so much.

  When we get home, he tries again, but not before he’s sought out the medicine cabinet and has helped me apply plasters to my blistered feet. We’re sitting on the sofa in the living room.

  ‘It’s Johnny, isn’t it?’ he says.

  I don’t reply.

  ‘I knew it.’

  ‘What do you know?’

  ‘He can’t fucking help himself, can he?’ He sounds angry.

  I look at him, unsure if he really knows what’s going on. I’m reluctant to say anything, just in case.

  ‘When did it start?’ he asks.

  ‘When did what start?’ I ask, cautiously.

  He looks a little impatient. ‘When did you start sleeping together?’

  Okay, so he knows, then. ‘In the Dales,’ I answer.

  He glances away from me at the blank television. ‘That figures. And tonight? What happened?’

  ‘A girl,’ I answer, tearfully. ‘In a bikini.’ What she’s wearing is not strictly relevant, but it feels so to me.

  He nods, glumly. Finally he looks at me. ‘He won’t change, you know.’

  I reach over and smooth my plasters down.

  ‘He won’t, Meg.’

  ‘Okay, okay!’ I snap.

  He falls silent.

  ‘You won’t put it in the book, will you?’ I ask, suddenly fretful.

  ‘Of course not!’ he admonishes me.

  I take a deep breath then relax a little. ‘Good. Shall we watch some TV?’

  ‘Sure.’ He glances at his watch. It must be after midnight, and he’s probably knackered, but I appreciate the company. I know I won’t be able to sleep until Johnny comes home.

  Christian tries to stifle his yawns for going on two hours until finally we hear the door open. We both sit up, on full alert.

  We hear the girls before we see them. Johnny appears around the corner, walking backwards as though enticing his prey into his lair. Two girls follow him, giggling and holding hands. I recognise the girl in the bikini–she’s had the decency to put some more clothes on–and her ‘friend’ is slim and blonde and also very pretty.

  ‘What the fuck are you doing?’

  I jump at the sound of Christian’s fury. So does Johnny. He spins around and spies us on the sofa together. His initial shock swiftly changes to nonchalance.

  ‘What does it look like?’

  The girls glance at each other apprehensively.

  Christian speaks. ‘It looks like you’re about to have a threesome and force your brilliant PA to quit her job.’

  Johnny looks taken aback. He stares at me. ‘Did you tell him?’

  Before I can answer, Christian speaks again. ‘Mate, I found her in a right state. She was trying to walk home. She rushed out of the joint after seeing you getting up close and personal with, I presume, one of these two.’ He gives the girls a dirty look. ‘She didn’t have to tell me. I mean, Jesus, Johnny, didn’t you learn your lesson after you fucked Paola?’

  My stomach lurches.

  ‘Sorry, Meg,’ Christian says. ‘But you should know what he’s capable of.’

  ‘Shut the fuck up, Christian,’ Johnny warns, malevolently.

  ‘No, I will not. She was a nice girl,’ he says to me. ‘He could have had something special with her, but the second he started to fall for her, he screwed her over. Just like he’s doing to you, now.’

  ‘Shut up!’ Johnny says, angrily, storming over to the sofa and pointing at Christian.

  The girls are now looking very uneasy.

  ‘Shall we go?’ one of them asks.

  ‘Yes!’ Christian shouts.

  ‘No!’ Johnny shouts at the same time.

  They shift from foot to foot. Clearly the thrill has gone out of their threesome.

  Johnny is breathing hard and fast. He’s still pointing at Christian. ‘If you have a problem with the way I do things around here, you can fuck off home.’

  ‘With the way you do things around here? Have you heard yourself, you arrogant prick? You know what, maybe I will fuck off home. And maybe I’ll take Meg with me.’

  Johnny laughs, hollowly. ‘Fine. Go.’

  He turns and puts his arms around both the girls and guides them up the stairs.

  As soon as Johnny’s door has closed behind them, Christian comes over and kneels in front of me. I’m shaking.

  ‘Are you okay?’ he asks.

  ‘I don’t feel very well,’ I tell him in a small voice.

  ‘Come here.’ He tries to put his arms around me, to comfort me, but I pull away. I don’t want to be touched.

  ‘Is it true? Is that what happened with Paola?’ I ask.

  He nods, grimly.

  ‘He told me he’s never fallen for anyone,’ I say.

  ‘That’s probably the truth. He fucks them over before it gets that far.’

  ‘Is that what he’s doing with me, do you think?’ My tone is hopeful. I want him to be falling for me. It doesn’t really sink in that I’m probably going to lose him over it.

  ‘I don’t know.’ He pauses, then says, ‘Meg, why don’t you come back with me? To the UK?’

  ‘I don’t want to go back to the UK!’ I cry.

  ‘Okay!’ he says, surprised.

  I sniff. ‘You’re not really going to leave, are you?’

  He considers my question for a moment before answering. ‘Yes. I am. I’ll catch a flight tomorrow.’

  ‘No! Don’t go!’

  ‘I will. It will teach him a lesson. Anyway, I’ve enough material now. I just have to finish writing it up.’

  ‘You won’t write anything about this, will you?’ I ask, anxiously.

  ‘Meg, I’ve already told you I won’t.’

  I hear muffled noises coming from Johnny’s bedroom and remember what’s going on in there. I’d forgotten for a moment.

  Christian looks at me with concern. ‘You’re going to get hurt so badly if you stay.’

  ‘I’m already hurt, Christian,’ I reply. ‘But this–’ I motion upstairs–‘this is just sex. It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than this to push me away.’

  He stands up and points the remote control at the TV, switching it off. Then he turns to me and says, sadly, ‘I knew you were going to say that.’

  Chapter 29

  I take Christian to the airport the next day, just to get out of the house. We don’t talk about last night. In fact, we say very little. When I return, I find Johnny sitting at the outdoor table by the pool, staring down at the view.

  He jumps when he sees me. ‘I thought you’d left,’ he says in a monotone voice. I can’t read his expression.

  ‘What, and taken your Porsche with me?’ I laugh, oddly amused.

  He studies my face, before asking, ‘Where’s Christian?’

  ‘Oh, he’s left,’ I say, flippantly. ‘But I’m still here.’ I sit down opposite him and put my sunglasses on top of my head. ‘Good night last night?’

  ‘Are you alright, Meg?’ He looks at me, cagily.

  ‘Not really.’ My voice is cheery. ‘But I’ll ge
t over it. Now, do you want some lunch? I’m starving!’

  ‘No…Thanks…’ He’s looking at me like I’ve grown little green horns and am currently head-butting the table.

  ‘Okay, then.’ I get up and go indoors.

  I carry on this pretence of not actually giving a shit for a few days, going about my business as though I’d never actually slept with a rock star. Finally, on Wednesday, Johnny cracks.

  ‘Meg, will you stop this? It’s driving me nuts.’

  He’s come into the office to check what time he’s supposed to be meeting with his record company.

  ‘What’s driving you nuts?’ I look up at him, calmly.

  ‘This.’ He throws his hands in the air. ‘You. Stop acting like nothing’s happened.’

  ‘What do you want me to do, Johnny? Cry? Scream? Quit?’ I stress the last word.

  ‘No. I don’t know,’ he says, frustrated. ‘I’ve gotta go. See you later.’

  He walks out of the room and I carry on with my work, feeling strangely elated.

  Later that day he comes back into the office.

  ‘Meeting go okay?’ I ask.

  ‘Yeah.’ I can see he’s distracted. ‘What did Christian say to you?’ he asks, furrowing his brow.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  My laugh is brittle. ‘I don’t actually. You’ll have to spell it out.’

  ‘Forget it!’ He storms out of the room in a huff.

  I’m quite enjoying this.

  The next day he’s back in the office again.

  ‘Do you have that Kitty chick’s number?’

  My heart skips a beat. I try not to let it show. ‘Sure.’

  I find it on my phone and scribble it down on the back of a business card. When I don’t ask why he wants it, he divulges the information himself.

  ‘She’s pretty hot. Thought I might take her to that showcase tonight.’

  You arsehole! I want to scream. ‘She’s already going.’ I call his bluff. ‘With her boyfriend,’ I add, hoping he won’t see through me.

  He looks down at the number. ‘Shame,’ he says, wandering towards the door.

  I carry on tapping away at my keyboard, trying not to let my anger overcome me.

  ‘For fuck’s sake,’ he exclaims, turning around and leaning on the doorframe. He flicks the business card in the bin.