From London with Love

by Jemma Forte

  ‘Listen, Jess, you knew what kind of guy Paul was when you first hooked up with him. He’s principled and totally unimpressed by celebrity, for some strange reason. You should have known he was going to freak out about this. However, for whatever reason, you like him, so don’t just sit around feeling sorry for yourself. Get out there and sort it out.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really,’ said her friend.

  The next day Paul came into work, knowing that Mike would only tolerate one day of skiving before it became an issue. He looked dreadful. Tired, drained and utterly fed up.

  ‘Hi,’ Jessica said, having nervously approached his desk. The relief at simply seeing him again was immense but he barely even looked up.

  ‘I’m busy,’ he muttered. ‘Need to catch up from yesterday.’

  ‘Right,’ she said, sloping away, feeling about as big as a gnat and wondering what on earth she could do to make things better again.

  The day crawled by, punctuated by the usual production meeting and people sidling up to her desk asking her questions about her parents. She didn’t want to be rude but also didn’t see what business any of it was of theirs, and couldn’t bear the judgemental scowls Paul kept sending in her direction. When it was finally time to leave, Jessica followed him down the corridor. ‘Paul!’ she called but he didn’t even turn round.

  Feeling utterly bereft and beaten, Jessica shuffled despondently back to the office where only a handful of people remained and slumped on to her desk.

  ‘Still not talking to you?’ asked Kerry, who was about to leave for the day with Luke.

  Jessica shook her head. ‘He’s so angry.’

  ‘Well, what did you expect?’ said Luke, reasonably enough. ‘You know what he’s like. Paul is the man people like me aspire to be. He’s solid, a properly decent bloke, and he’s never been able to understand when people are anything but straightforward.’

  ‘But I didn’t mean to hurt him,’ wailed Jessica. ‘I just messed up, but not because I’m a bad person. I’ve just been stupid. Really stupid and selfish, I guess, because I just wanted to be me, without any of the fuss that surrounds my family.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know why you’re telling us all of this. It’s him you should be telling,’ said Kerry frankly.

  Jessica looked up. ‘You’re right,’ she said, a determined look in her eye. ‘Where’s Paul going now?’

  ‘His mum’s,’ said Luke, earning himself a sharp nudge from Kerry who wasn’t convinced Paul wanted her to know.

  Ten minutes later, Jessica Bender, née Granger, was headed for the land they call Staines, albeit after an argument with Luke and Kerry about giving her the address. (Paul had made a point of telling Kerry not to let Jessica have it.)

  Setting off to do something about fixing the mess she’d created felt like the first sensible thing she’d done in ages, although the wisdom of her plan felt rather flimsy when the journey took hours. Literally. First she had to wait ages for a tube. Then the train she got on at Waterloo spent centuries sitting on the tracks in between stations for no apparent reason. Still, it all felt like penance to Jessica and also put off the moment of truth. The moment she’d find out if Paul could forgive her.

  What felt like years later, she finally arrived in the fairly non-descript place that is Staines. She asked a succession of passers-by for help with directions, some of whom were quite helpful, others of whom were either thick or deliberately trying to sabotage her finding Paul. She was exhausted by the time she did eventually find the right place but not exhausted enough to miss the fact that Paul’s mum’s house would have fitted into Pam’s three times over. It looked pleasant enough. It was small, red brick and semi-detached but with no discerning features. Just a red-brick box with a well-cared-for front garden. No wonder he hated her. She hated herself, she thought sorrowfully.

  She rang the bell.

  A sixteen-year-old girl who Jessica knew must be Lucy answered.

  ‘Hi,’ said Jessica quietly, nervous as hell, a wan smile on her face.

  ‘Hi,’ said Lucy.

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ said Jessica. ‘I’m Jessica.’

  ‘I figured as much,’ said Lucy. ‘You look upset,’ she added when Jessica looked at her questioningly. ‘And Paul’s been in a foul mood so …’ She trailed off, unsure what to say. She loved her brother and it was with him that her loyalties lay. Still, like Mike, when Paul had told her what had happened she’d failed to see what real crime Jessica had committed just by being the daughter of someone famous. Besides, Lucy was desperate for them to make up so she could find out loads of gossip and possibly meet James Bond one day.

  ‘Is Paul in?’

  ‘Er … no?’ replied Lucy, nodding her head at the same time.

  ‘Oh … right,’ said Jessica, at a loss to know what to do next.

  ‘Sod it,’ said Lucy after a moment’s consideration as she stood back to let Jessica through. ‘Life’s too short …’ she said, pointing through to what must be the lounge.

  Jessica took a deep breath and tried to gather her strength. ‘Thanks,’ she muttered, walking past Lucy down the tiny hallway. Right, here goes. Terrified, she pushed open the door to her right, only to find a very dejected-looking Paul slumped on the sofa watching football.

  ‘Hi,’ she said cautiously.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he said dispassionately, not taking his eyes off the game. ‘I thought I’d made my feelings clear.’

  ‘You have,’ mumbled Jessica, ‘but I really want to explain. You see –’

  ‘No,’ said Paul. ‘I don’t see and I don’t want to either. In fact, I’m not interested in anything you’ve got to say.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘How could you?’ he interrupted, slightly contradicting what he’d just said. ‘Was there really not one moment when you thought it might be a good idea to tell me the truth?’ he asked incredulously.

  ‘It wasn’t like that,’ began Jessica, but Paul obviously wasn’t in the mood for listening.

  ‘And now you come to my house, which by the way I’m sure you probably think is a squalid little shit-hole. I mean, even your aunt’s house is only small and “kinda cute” by your standards, isn’t it?’ he said, cruelly mocking her accent.

  ‘Now hang on a minute –’ tried Jessica, whose patience was fast running out.

  ‘No,’ said Paul, turning to look at her for the first time since she’d arrived. ‘You don’t get to tell me anything any more. You see, you might be used to snapping your fingers and getting your way, but that won’t work with me.’

  At that point something in Jessica did indeed snap but it wasn’t her fingers. Defeated, disappointed and unbelievably furious at his reaction, especially when she’d made this pilgrimage across London just so that she could explain things, she gave up. She’d had enough, so she turned on her heel and left the room, past Lucy who was sitting on the stairs, not even bothering to pretend she wasn’t listening.

  ‘Oh, don’t give up on him,’ Lucy called after her.

  ‘Why shouldn’t I?’ asked Jessica, who to her dismay felt like she was on the brink of tears again.

  ‘I know he’s being a twat, but he definitely loves you. He’s been so happy since he met you.’

  ‘Well, I’m not so sure, Lucy. You know he’s so busy feeling sorry for himself that he hasn’t even stopped to think for a second how weird this whole thing has been for me, from beginning to end.’

  ‘He’s had a lot to get his head round,’ stated Lucy, ‘and I’m sure there’s a big part of him that’s terrified that you won’t want to be with him. That you’ll swan off back to Hollywood once the novelty of being with someone normal has worn off.’

  In the sitting room, perfectly able to hear everything that was being said, Paul sighed, an internal debate going on furiously in his head. His pride was screaming at him to turn the volume up on the telly, and to forget that Jessica Be– whatever her bloody real name was, had ever existed. His heart,
however, and interestingly enough his head, were saying the opposite. They were telling him to at least hear what she had to say. They were telling him that forgetting about her would be an impossible task and that all he wanted was for things to be right between them again.

  It was two against one. Decisively he got up and came into the hallway, just in time to see Jessica walking out of the door.

  ‘Fine,’ he called after her. ‘If you want to explain, go ahead. Though I doubt there’s much you can say.’

  Jessica, who was halfway up the front path by now, turned round, her eyes blazing with outrage.

  ‘Please?’ said Paul, coming out of the house and finally sounding something other than aggressive.

  ‘All right,’ she said in a low, angry voice. ‘I will.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Good,’ she repeated. ‘So … firstly, when I come to think of it, you’re probably right.’

  ‘About what?’

  ‘Well, you are a novelty in some ways.’

  Paul looked furious and was about to protest but Jessica cut him off.

  ‘You are a novelty because, if you must know, you’re the first boyfriend I’ve ever had who actually seems to like me for me and not just because you want to date someone rich, or work in movies, or meet my mom and dad.’

  Paul looked away, at a loss to know what to say, so Jessica continued, taking advantage of his silence.

  ‘You’re also a novelty because I’ve never felt like this before, about anybody. And while I know there are certain things I didn’t tell you,’ she said in a wobbly voice, ‘I have never lied to you.’

  ‘Oh, bollocks,’ Paul muttered despairingly, his eyes turning skywards.

  ‘Just hear me out,’ snapped Jessica angrily, which took Paul quite by surprise. He nodded at her to continue.

  ‘I came to England to find myself,’ she began. ‘I know that sounds clichéd but it’s true. Despite the fact that I have had an incredibly pampered life in many ways, being the daughter of two living legends hasn’t always been easy. Before I came here I was completely lost. I didn’t lie to you about that. My dad has always interfered in everything I’ve ever done and I was beginning to feel suffocated by him and by people’s reactions to me. I wanted a clean slate here and I find it sad that you don’t seem able to understand even a little why I might have felt like that.’

  Paul said nothing, but at least he was listening.

  ‘All my life it’s been the same thing. The minute people find out who I am they change towards me. Sometimes they feel sorry for me for not being anywhere near as beautiful as my mother. Then, once they’ve got over that one, they generally tend to assume one of two things. Either that I’m someone special, who must want to do extraordinary things with my life. Or that I have no brain, which is probably the more common assumption, actually. That’s the one that labels me an airhead just because my parents are rich and famous, which if you want to know the truth is actually kind of boring. It’s frustrating too and ironic because I’ve seen firsthand how unhappy my mom has been, and she’s the most beautiful woman in the world, which leaves me wondering why people would ever think I’d like to be lumbered with that particular cross to bear. Secondly, I don’t want to be – nor have I ever wanted to be – famous. In fact, I don’t see what’s wrong with being mediocre because, as far as I can make out, being mediocre probably makes for a less pressured, happier existence. That being said,’ continued Jessica, raising her hand to warn Paul not to interrupt when it looked like he might be about to do so, ‘I am not an airhead. I do want to work hard and I do want to do something that fulfils me, though if it wasn’t for this trip I still wouldn’t have a clue what that might be. So if you’re asking me if I’ve regretted coming here, if I regret having had a break from people’s preconceptions about me, then the answer would have to be no. Do I regret you being hurt and not telling you everything sooner? Then the answer is yes, of course. But, Paul, I didn’t set out for this to happen. I didn’t know I was going to meet you. Though, actually, I’m kind of glad I did meet you as Jessica Bender and not as the daughter of a film star, because if I had you never would have given me the time of day anyway.’

  ‘That’s not true,’ retorted Paul, amazed to be the one being accused of anything.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ replied Jessica plainly.

  They stood looking at one another for a second, both struggling with what they were feeling.

  ‘Well, I don’t think it is,’ said Paul feebly.

  ‘Paul, I came to England to be me,’ said Jessica eventually. ‘I wanted to be somewhere where I could walk into a room before my identity, just for once. Does that really make me such a bad person?’

  Paul wasn’t sure. Having heard everything she’d had to say he could probably understand her motivation for staying quiet about who she was, but was hurt that she thought he was so judgemental. However, he was also intelligent enough to realize that if there was no truth in what she’d said then he wouldn’t be feeling quite so hurt, but would be cross instead. The truth does indeed hurt. He still felt like he’d been taken for a fool though and said as much.

  ‘I don’t appreciate people laughing at me behind my back,’ he said defensively, nodding politely as they both stood back to make way for a lady who was trying to pass by with a buggy.

  ‘Who’s laughing?’ asked Jessica, bewildered.

  ‘You must have been,’ said Paul. ‘Pretending to me that you didn’t have any money. That thing about your dad being soppy and crying at everything. Choosing the name Bender, for Christ’s sake. Why would anyone do that unless they were having a laugh?’

  ‘Maybe I was unaware of certain English colloquialisms?’ Jessica suggested huffily.

  Paul shrugged.

  ‘My dad’s real name is Teddy Bender,’ she said quietly. ‘And if you tell anyone that he’ll kill me. He’s originally from Pinner, where he went to the local comprehensive. He had elocution lessons in order to sound like he does.’

  Paul frowned in disbelief but the frown soon faded as it dawned on him that Jessica really wasn’t lying. She couldn’t be. She looked so grave and, besides, why would she make that up? Teddy Bender! Priceless.

  ‘And,’ continued Jessica, reluctantly deciding that in order to regain Paul’s trust she was going to have to trust him an awful lot, ‘I didn’t lie about the other thing … the crying thing …’

  Paul thought about this, digesting the repercussions of what that actually meant. Once he had, he had to force away the smirk that was fighting to appear across his face. He mustn’t laugh. To do so would show that he’d forgiven Jessica and he couldn’t do that yet, not until he knew she wasn’t going to dump him and bugger off to her real, far more glamorous world.

  ‘Fair enough,’ he said. ‘But obviously I won’t be able to compete with the kind of guys you must have after you in Hollywood. They can’t all be gold-digging arseholes, so while I forgive you for lying, I would rather just break up now before I get more involved. Seeing as it’s inevitable, I don’t see the point in drawing things out. I’m not stupid. I know you can do better than someone with an average life and a less than average bank account.’

  He stopped, hoping against hope that the next thing he heard would be reassuring, comforting, absolving any insecurities he might have. He was to be sorely disappointed.

  ‘Have you even heard yourself? God, you can be such an asshole,’ cried Jessica, taking him by surprise. ‘I just can’t freaking believe you sometimes. Paul, you’re an amazing person, but after everything I’ve just said to you, for that to be your reaction then you must have some pretty major issues. My relationship with you is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, if you must know, so why would I be prepared to throw that all away? I actually hate the thought of this only being a holiday romance and if you’d actually met any of the jerks I’ve gone out with, maybe you’d realize why. And how can you still think I’m so shallow?’ she asked, frustrated beyond belief. ‘Or, rat
her, how can you be so shallow? Why can’t you judge me on what you’ve seen, on how I’ve been to you? Who my parents are is something I have no control over. Nobody does.’

  ‘Yeah, I do know that, Einstein,’ Paul said, slightly shame-facedly.

  ‘Well, then, maybe you should try showing it,’ said Jessica indignantly. ‘You know, we all get dealt a different hand of cards to play with in life, but the only thing that matters is what we choose to do with them. Making the best of our “cards” is all any of us can do. Jeez,’ she suddenly added, frustrated beyond belief.

  ‘Yeah, but it’s not like …’ attempted Paul, but Jessica wasn’t listening. She was on a roll.

  ‘Is life fair? Of course it isn’t. Is it fair that I don’t have to worry about money? No. Is it fair that home for me is a mansion in Malibu? No. But it’s also not my fault and I am so –’ she swallowed hard but it was no good, the tears were making a comeback – ‘I am so … tired of having to apologize for who I am.’

  ‘Well … you shouldn’t have to,’ ventured Paul.

  ‘I know,’ said Jessica. ‘I know I shouldn’t have to but I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to help myself because I am so aware of what people like you think of people like me.’

  ‘I don’t –’

  ‘You have such a huge chip on your shoulder, Paul,’ Jessica rushed on, ‘which you have to get rid of. I mean, I know my life’s pretty perfect, but if I really wanted to then I’m sure I could find a few shit parts to dwell on. I could blame my insecurities on my mom leaving me when I was a little girl. Or my lack of direction on the fact that when I was four I’d spent so much time with my nanny that Spanish was my first language. It’s been pretty weird living with my dad and a stepmom who’s not much older than myself. And did I really want to catch my dad humping my mom at his birthday party? No, I did not,’ she said with feeling.

  Paul’s jaw dropped to the pavement and a woman who was walking by crossed the road.