Johnny's Girl (3 page)

‘Did you come by bike?’ she asks gleefully, pulling out a wrought iron chair and joining me at the table. She used to have a bit of a crush on Johnny. I presume she’s over it
now.

‘I had no choice.’

‘Great table, by the way.’

The maître d’ knew who I was. ‘I think he thought Johnny would be joining me,’ I whisper.

She laughs. ‘So when did you arrive?’

‘Friday, but we went straight up to Big Sur on Saturday morning.’

‘Nice! Was it amazing?’

‘Even better than I remembered it.’ I try not to look too smug. I spot the waiter on his way over. ‘What do you want to drink?’ I ask Kitty as he arrives at the table.
She glances at my glass.

‘Mineral water?’ she scoffs. ‘Will you have a glass of wine with me?’

My lips turn down. I’m so tempted, but I can’t… ‘Better not,’ I say regretfully. ‘You have one, though.’

‘Um…’ She hesitates, reluctant to drink alone. ‘Okay, sure. House white will do, thanks.’ The waiter goes off and she turns back to me. ‘Why aren’t you
drinking?’

‘Apart from the fact that I’m still breastfeeding at night–’

‘Ohhh,’ she says slowly, and I could have left it at that, but I’m already onto the second half of my sentence.

‘…I avoid alcohol around Johnny,’ I finish saying.

Now her expression tells me that she understands. Johnny used to claim that he didn’t have a problem with alcohol – only drugs – but he’s since accepted that he has
issues with both. He regularly attends AA meetings, but it helps if the people close to him don’t drink, either. I’m certainly not going to put him at risk by indulging myself, however
much he tells me that my abstinence is not necessary. There’s too much at stake.

‘Fair enough,’ she says, her dark-brown ringlets bouncing as she cocks her head to one side. ‘How’s he going with it all?’

‘He’s amazing,’ I say warmly, shaking my head because I still can’t believe it. ‘Did I tell you he’s quit smoking?’

‘No way.’ She looks shocked. Johnny used to pretty much chain-smoke, so this is a huge deal. ‘How did you manage that?’

‘It was all him.’ Well, sort of. ‘It was when I was pregnant. He’d never smoke around Barney or me,’ I’m quick to point out. ‘But the smell of it on his
breath used to make me feel nauseous. So he quit,’ I say simply, although it was anything but. Talk about a bear with a sore head. He was a grouch for weeks.
Months
.

‘Wow.’ She smiles at me. ‘I knew it was meant to be between you two. You’re sickeningly happy, aren’t you?’

‘The happiest I’ve ever been.’ Pause. ‘But enough about me, otherwise you’ll be throwing up in the bushes. How are you? How’s it all going at work? Anyone on
the scene?’

‘Funny you should say that…’

‘What? Tell me everything!’

‘There’s this super hot new guy at work. And I love my job, by the way. Anyway, this guy is sex on legs. Tall, slim, dark hair and the most intense blue eyes you’ve ever seen.
He’s been flirting with me a little.’

‘Sounds gorgeous!’

‘But he’s only twenty-seven,’ she points out, disheartened.

‘So?’

‘I’m thirty-six,’ she says.

‘And?’

She frowns. ‘Don’t you think that’s a bit of an age gap?’

‘Hell, no! Get in there. Do you socialise outside the office?’

‘We’ve had a few tequilas. He’s been working with me on an upcoming premiere. Oh, I meant to tell you!’ she exclaims.

‘What?’

‘It’s for a Joseph Strike film!’

I freeze.

I first met Joseph Strike about three years ago when I came back to LA for the second time. Johnny wanted to spend some more time with Barney, so I agreed to move in with him,
even though the plan was that we would lead separate lives. He was going out with Dana Reed, an absolute bitch of a girl who he met in rehab and got up to all sorts of grief with. So when Kitty
persuaded me to start dating again after I met Joseph at a film premiere after party, I was only too happy to oblige.

Joseph was –
is
– divine. He’s tall with short dark hair, dark-brown eyes and a body to die for. He’d only played a small part in the film we’d been to see,
but I remember thinking at the time that he was destined for big things. I was right. He’s a major movie star now, and every time I see his face on a poster, or hear him being interviewed on
TV or radio or being mentioned by any one of our friends, I have to hope that Johnny isn’t with me because it puts him in a vile mood.

‘You should come!’ Kitty exclaims. ‘It’s this Friday.’

I laugh and roll my eyes. ‘Johnny would go nuts.’

‘What? Why?’ She looks confused. ‘He could come too,’ she says.

‘Yeah, right!’ I laugh. ‘You know he’s really jealous of Joseph, right?’

She screws up his nose. ‘Is he?’

‘
Yeah
!’

‘But he’s…
Johnny Jefferson
!’

‘I know. It’s absolutely ridiculous. And considering how many women
he’s
slept with… Don’t get me started, it’s actually laughable.’

‘You should come, then! Serve him right.’

‘Nah,’ I brush her off. ‘I wouldn’t hurt him like that. Can you imagine if he went to one of Dana’s gigs?’ She’s a singer, but as far as I know, she
hasn’t put out anything new for a while. She must be still battling her old drink and drug demons. ‘I’d go mental. He’d never do that to me.’

Kitty shrugs. ‘Fair enough. Shame, though. I’d love to hang out with you.’

‘We could go to another premiere?’ I say hopefully. ‘One where you’re not working?’

‘Okay, yeah,’ she replies with a smile. ‘I’ll see what’s coming up in the next couple of weeks.’

‘Great!’

‘Shall I say hi to Joseph from you in the meantime?’

A flutter goes through me. Despite how much I love and fancy Johnny, Joseph Strike is undeniably hot. ‘No,’ I decide. ‘He probably wouldn’t remember me,
anyway.’

‘He does,’ Kitty says.

My heart jumps. ‘What?’

She grins. ‘He does remember you. I was introduced to him for the first time the other day when he came into the office and he recognised me.’ Kitty was with me when I first met him
at the premiere party, and on another date when we all went to a Halloween party. That was the night we slept together.

‘Did he?’ My voice has gone up an octave.

‘Yeah.’ She giggles. ‘He asked if we were still in contact and then said to say hi and congratulations. But I’m sure he’d like to say it face to face.’

‘Congratulations? On what?’

‘On your wedding!’ She laughs. ‘Have you forgotten you got married?’

‘Oh!’ Of course. Now I feel like a bit of a tit.

‘You know he’s totally in love now?’

‘No? Wow! Sorry, every time anything about Joseph Strike comes on TV, I have to change the channel,’ I say wryly. ‘I thought he was a bit of a player.’ That’s the
impression I got of him after he became famous, anyway. I’ve lost count of the number of women he’s been papped with.

‘Not anymore,’ she says. ‘Apparently, he’s a changed man.’

‘Well, I’m very happy to hear it,’ I reply with a smile. ‘But Johnny will still flip out if I go to his premiere.’

We giggle and then the waiter comes over again, so we have to focus on ordering.

Even with a longer lunch break, Kitty has to get back to work before Johnny returns. I could walk up to Melrose Avenue and have a look at the shops, but I’m feeling too
chilled, so I spend my last half an hour reading and drinking a coffee. I look up when I hear the familiar roar of his motorcycle engine. He pulls up right in front of The Ivy and flips his visor
up.

‘Shall I come in for a bit?’ he calls to me.

I give him the thumbs up and he switches off the engine, handing the keys to a waiting valet. Before he’s even taken off his helmet, a couple of paparazzi have appeared. He ignores them
and jogs up the steps to join me at my table.

Sometimes I get recognised when I’m on my own, but those times are few and far between. It’s been blissful today, basking in my anonymity, no one giving me a second glance as
I’ve sat and gossiped to Kitty.

But now all eyes are on us. Johnny touches my shoulder and bends down to give me a kiss on my lips to a soundtrack of camera shots being clicked off. He puts his helmet on the other spare seat
and pulls Kitty’s chair closer to mine. The waiter is beside him in an instant.

‘Can I get a coffee?’ he asks, glancing at me. ‘You want anything else?’

‘Go on, then, I’ll have another decaf,’ I reply. I turn to Johnny. ‘How was your meeting?’

He shrugs. ‘So so.’

My brow creases. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing’s
wrong
wrong,’ he says, staring at me intently. ‘They want me to start recording the new album around the middle of May. It’ll probably take a
couple of months.’ Pause. ‘They want me to record it
here
,’ he elaborates.

‘Oh. Really? You can’t do it back at home?’ I hate the idea of him having to travel forwards and backwards for two whole months.

‘They’ve lined up Mikky Tryslip to do it.’

I shrug. The name means nothing to me.

‘Super producer,’ he reveals. ‘Afraid of flying,’ he adds drily.

‘Can’t someone else produce you?’

‘He’s one of the best in the business.’ He shrugs.

So that’s it, then.

The waiter returns with our coffees. Johnny rubs my knee under the table. ‘They’re going to think we’ve had an argument if you look like that,’ he says gently. He’s
referring to the paparazzi: they’re still there, watching.

I smile a small smile. ‘I suppose we could come with you?’

His face breaks into a grin and he reaches over and tucks my hair behind my ear. ‘I love you,’ he says, cupping my face. Then he kisses me and I kiss him back, trying but failing to
ignore those ever-present camera clicks.

‘Can we take a detour on the way home?’ he asks me as I climb onto the back of his bike later.

‘Sure. Where?’

‘Surprise.’

We lose the paps tailing us after a few blocks, and soon Johnny starts to wind upwards into the hills. I tense up because I think I know where he’s taking me. After a while, we pass
through the gates into Bel Air, and continue to wind our way further into the hills, past high fences hiding enormous mansions belonging to the rich and famous. Finally, Johnny pulls up outside
familiar wooden gates. He reaches over and presses the buzzer, flipping his visor up to look into the camera staring down at us from high gateposts.

‘What are you doing?’ I ask with confusion. ‘We can’t just drop in.’ And then I see the For Sale sign.

He doesn’t say anything, just putting one gloved hand on top of mine to reassure me. My heart constricts as the gates begin to open and we ride along the long driveway to the two-storey,
rectangular, white-painted concrete house that was once Johnny’s LA base. His shag pad. His party pad.

Leafy trees partly obscure the impressive piece of modernist architecture, but the house and gardens still look exactly the same as I remember them. Johnny switches off the bike’s engine
just as the large front door opens and a well-dressed brunette in her mid to late forties steps out.

‘Bear with me,’ Johnny murmurs, indicating for me to climb off the bike.

‘Mr Jefferson,’ the woman says, coming forwards with a friendly smile as Johnny takes his helmet off.

‘Hello again,’ he replies, shaking her extended hand. Again? ‘This is my wife, Meg.’

‘Great to meet you at last,’ she says. ‘I’m Miriam. Shall we go in?’

How do they know each other?

‘She sold the house the first time,’ Johnny tells me.

‘Oh.’

I hesitantly follow Miriam and Johnny into the hall, and then further into the large, open-plan living room. The house looks and smells the same – albeit with no furniture. Whoever bought
it after Johnny sold it, has long gone.

The view still makes me stop in my tracks. Huge floor-to-ceiling windows look down onto the city of LA, baking in the afternoon sun. A large infinity pool is on the terrace, behind an almost
invisible glass safety fence that Johnny’s last PA had installed when I moved here with Barney.

‘I guess you won’t need me to give you a tour?’ Miriam asks with a smile.

‘No,’ Johnny replies, tearing his eyes away from the view.

‘Would you like some time alone?’ she asks.

‘Sure.’

‘I’ll be outside if you need me.’

As soon as she’s gone, I turn to Johnny. ‘What are we doing here?’ I ask uneasily.

There’s something about his expression – he looks lost, torn, confused… And none of these emotions make me feel any easier. He puts his hands on my hips.

‘I miss it,’ he says, and I instantly feel a little sick. I
don’t
. Not after the memories, the heartache, the misery… ‘When I heard it was back on the
market, I wanted to come and see it.’

‘
Why
is it back on the market so quickly?’ I ask.

‘An Arab Sheikh bought it for his son. He wanted to try to make it in the film industry, but it didn’t work out and he’s gone back to Saudi Arabia.’ His face softens.
‘I want to buy it back, Meg. I want this to be our LA base.’

I pull away from him and walk towards the living room doors. I flick the switch that unlocks the door and step out onto the warm terrace.

I remember this. I liked this. I loved this once. But I thought this part of our life was over. That we’d moved on. I’m happy in Henley, where we live. Yes, the weather has sucked
recently, but I feel settled there. I don’t want to uproot the whole family again.

‘I’m going to have to be out here a lot for work this year,’ Johnny says from behind me.

I want to sit down, but there are no sun-loungers out here any more.

‘I love this house,’ he says softly. ‘It’s everything I ever dreamed of.’

I know that our house in Henley is not really to his taste. It’s beautiful – a big old mansion – but Johnny has always been into minimalist, modern styles. I love that style
too – all that light.

I don’t say anything as I walk away from him, over to the pool gate. I open it up and go inside. I want to stand on the first step. I know that the water will be blissfully cool, and my
feet are hot in these trainers. Johnny joins me, putting his arm around my shoulder.