Johnny's Girl (7 page)

‘I know, I know, and they were lovely…’

‘Lovely?’ He’s appalled at the description and I can’t help but laugh. His face softens. He runs his fingertips down the side of my leg.

I lean towards him and gently rest my forehead against his. My earlier tension and anger feels long gone. I don’t know when it will return, but for now I just want to feel close to the
love of my life again.

‘It’s going to be okay,’ he whispers.

I’ve been saying the same thing, but something tells me our lives will never be this perfect, ever again.

A couple of days later, we get the results back. Confirmed: fifteen-year-old Jessica Pickerill is Johnny’s biological daughter.

On Friday night, Johnny fills me in on the meeting Wendel had with her earlier that day in London.

‘She wants to meet me.’

Surprise, surprise.

‘You can’t blame her,’ he says, seeing the look on my face.

‘No, I know.’ I shake my head, feeling bad for letting my bitterness seep through to the surface again. ‘When?’

He shrugs. ‘I don’t know. The sooner the better, don’t you think?’

‘Isn’t she at school? Oh, I suppose she’s breaking up for the holidays soon.’ I answer my own question. ‘But what about
our
holiday?’

We had planned on going to a private island at the end of July, a sort of reward for all of the time Johnny’s been spending in the studio.

‘She can come afterwards,’ Johnny suggests.

‘No,’ I say quickly. ‘What about before? Just for a week?’

‘Really?’ He sounds hesitant. That would mean her coming out next week. ‘Are you sure?’

‘God no, I’m anything but. But I don’t want this hanging over us all summer.’

‘Fair point,’ he says quietly.

‘Sorry, that sounded very selfish,’ I apologise, remembering that there’s a young woman’s feelings to consider, not just mine and my immediate family’s. ‘I
imagine she’d rather meet you sooner rather than later, too,’ I add.

‘I’ll ask Wendel to speak to her on Monday.’

‘Okay.’ I think for a moment. ‘I presume he got her to sign a confidentiality clause?’

‘He asked her to keep quiet about it.’

‘Johnny!’ I exclaim. ‘She’s a teenage girl! How is she going to keep quiet about the fact that her dad is a famous rock star?’

‘I don’t know, Meg,’ he replies with frustration. ‘But I don’t feel we can throw legal shit at her when she’s only just found out about me! She
is
my
daughter. It’s not fair.’

My mouth abruptly closes. Johnny has a teenage daughter. The reality of our situation has belatedly sunk in, and its impact feels like a slap across the face.

The next day is Phoenix’s first birthday, and I’ve never felt less like celebrating. I’ve gone from feeling angry and tearful to just tearful. I feel like there’s a
perpetual lump in my throat which won’t go away. I would give anything to be back in Henley, living in our own little world in our beautiful old house surrounded by my friends and their
children. I returned to LA knowing that I would miss my mummy pals and our playdates, but I told myself that I’d make new friends, go to new play-groups. So far I’ve been too busy
settling back into the house and researching schools and nurseries for Barney. Johnny is out all day, and right now I need him more than ever, yet when we’re together, despite the front
I’m putting on of being strong, all I feel is distance.

And so we have a little birthday celebration, just the four of us, and I’ve never felt so lonely. I’m fighting back tears when we sing happy birthday, overcome with emotion about
this big milestone in my baby boy’s life. I wish we were back home, surrounded by children and babies and our extended family, and blissfully ignorant of a one-time groupie called Candy.

Two days later, Jessica’s flight is booked. She’s coming to LA on Sunday. I nod when Johnny tells me that night. I’ve now gone to feeling strangely detached
about the whole thing.

‘Are you okay?’ he asks warily. His fingers are fidgeting and I know he wants to smoke, but he’s trying not to start up again.

‘Did you ever manage to get hold of Santiago?’ He was our pool boy and sometime gardener, and Johnny once went mental when I nicked a cigarette from him.

Johnny frowns. ‘Why are you asking about Santiago now?’

‘We’ve managed to bring back Samuel and Lewis, but what about him? I want him back. I liked him. He was a friend and I don’t have many in this fucking country!’

My fury hits me like a wall. I’m up and down like a roller-coaster at the moment.

Johnny’s jaw twitches. ‘I managed to get hold of his mum. He’s on a year out travelling.’

I go back to feeling surreally detached again. ‘Maybe we’ll be able to re-hire him when he gets back,’ I say in a monotone voice.

‘Maybe.’ He looks away from me, down at the city lights twinkling in the distance. We’re sitting at the bench table, side by side, with our backs resting against the hard
concrete. The baby monitors are glowing green on the table behind us, our sons fast asleep inside the house. The sun is just setting and the sky is orange, but there are no stars, yet. I can hear a
far-off police car whizzing through the hills with its siren blazing. We stay silent for a long time, then I feel his eyes on me once more. ‘Are we going to be alright?’

I feel the tension radiating from him as I stare down at the view and ponder this question for a little too long.

I turn to look at him and feel physical pain at the sight of the apprehension in his eyes. I brush my thumb across his warm face. His stubble is prickly under my touch. He hasn’t shaved
for days.

‘We’ve been through much worse than this,’ I say, smiling through the sudden onslaught of tears. He exhales in a rush and I realise he was holding his breath, and then
he’s crushing
my
breath out of me as he holds me tightly.

‘I love you,’ I say into his shoulder.

‘I love you, too.’ His deep voice is thick with emotion.

‘We’re going to be okay. Of course we’re going to be okay. I’ll always love you, Johnny. I always have and I always will.’

He hugs me even tighter, and then he’s kissing me as though his life depended on it. I passionately return his kiss and he pulls me to my feet, carrying me a few steps to the lawn sloping
away from the house. He lays me down and covers my body with his, trapping me and keeping me exactly where he wants me.

Which is exactly where I want to be.

We make love there, on the grass, and it’s like it’s our very first time, raw and passionate and full of need and longing. Afterwards he stays on top of me, both of us breathing
heavily, as I stare past him to the newly shining stars in the sky beyond. I know without a shadow of a doubt, that despite his flaws, despite his past, Johnny is worth fighting for. And I swear to
myself that I’ll never let anyone come between us, whoever they are.

I spend the next couple of days getting everything ready for Jessica’s imminent arrival. We’re putting her in the White Room, which was my room once. I remember the
second time I came here with Barney: Johnny’s PA at the time had filled the bathroom cabinets with all sorts of cosmetic goodies. I want to do the same for Jessica to make her feel welcome,
so I go shopping and stock up and take a strange amount of pleasure in the thought of seeing her excitement. I hope she
is
excited. Johnny told me that she grew up in a small townhouse with
no luxuries to speak of. He also told me how her mother died on her fifteenth birthday: struck by glass falling from a loose window on her way to pick up Jessica’s birthday cake. We both get
a little emotional when we think about that.

I hope I can be a friend to this girl. I hope my jealousy and insecurities don’t get in the way. I want to be strong for her, to help her through this incredibly tumultuous time in her
life. I hope she lets me.

After lunch on Sunday, Johnny tells me that he wants to go for a bike ride.

‘But she’s going to be here in a couple of hours,’ I reply with a frown.

‘I need to get out,’ he says. ‘Just for a bit.’

I can tell from his expression that he needs his freedom to compose himself.

I know how he feels.

I wish I could go with him, but it’s Sunday and we have no help with childcare today. I’m relieved it will just be the four of us when Jessica arrives. I still haven’t got used
to having staff, and however much some of them feel like friends, I’m glad no one else is here to witness such a private event.

‘Okay,’ I say. ‘Make sure you’re back by three thirty, though. Just to be on the safe side in case she comes through immigration early.’

Davey is going to collect her from the airport. He didn’t say anything, but I could tell from his eyes how shocked he was when I showed him the picture of Jessica. He probably would have
recognised her without it.

Phoenix is asleep and Barney is watching TV in the living room, so I leave him to it and walk out to the garage to see Johnny off. I’ve always thought he looks hot in his biker jacket. He
climbs onto the big, black Ducati and pushes his dirty blond hair off his face before pulling the helmet over his head. My heart unexpectedly flips.

‘What are you smiling at?’ he asks me, and I wish I’d kissed him before he’d covered his face. I shake my head and shrug, but he must be a mind-reader because he takes
his helmet off again.

‘Come here,’ he mutters with a grin. I step forward and tilt my face up towards him. He kisses me gently on my lips, but I want more.

‘Jeez,’ he murmurs under his breath. ‘You’re making me want to take you on the grass again.’

‘Mmm…’

We kiss each other, long and languidly, before I finally pull away. ‘I’d better get back inside to Barney,’ I say with regret. He’s staring at my lips.

‘Just wait until I get you on that island,’ he says in a low voice, before kissing me again.

‘Can’t wait,’ I say. We’ve just got to get through this week.

He pulls on his helmet again, flipping up his visor. His eyes look even more green when they’re all I can see of his face.

‘Don’t be late,’ I warn.

‘I won’t.’

I take a step backwards and he fires up the ignition. He flips down his visor and I watch with a heart full of love as he roars out of the garage and down the driveway, leaving a dust cloud in
his wake.

Two hours later, my earlier warm and fuzzy feeling has been replaced with nervous anxiety. Davey has called me to say he’s en route from the airport and Johnny is still
not back. Where the bloody hell is he?

Phoenix is awake and the three of us are in the living room, playing with Barney’s collection of cars. I’m so distracted, so on edge. I just want Johnny here. I try calling his
mobile, but he doesn’t answer.

And then he rings me back. ‘Is she there yet?’

‘Almost! Get your arse back here right now!’

‘I’m on my way,’ he promises, ending the call.

Argh! Still living in his own little world…

I’m pacing the living room when the buzzer goes to let me know that the gates have opened. Is it Davey or Johnny? Please, please, please let it be Johnny.

I hurry to the front door and open it in time to see Davey’s limo pull up in front of the house.

Oh God, she’s here. I try to compose myself. What will she be like? Please let her be a nice, friendly, easy-going teenager. No, those words surely don’t go together in the same
sentence. Oh, just please don’t let her give us too much grief.

Davey gets out of the car and cocks his chauffer’s hat at me, but I can barely smile back at him, because then he’s opening the car door and one chunky, black boot is stepping out,
followed by a slim, tanned leg, and a short silver swing dress which would be more at home in a nightclub. I stare with shock at the stunning girl with surfer-style, platinum blonde hair and eyes
hidden by dark sunglasses. She looks like a wannabe rock star. She looks like trouble. She’s Johnny’s daughter and she’s here to stay.

Holy shit, what the hell have we got ourselves in for?

‘Jessie!
Jessica!
Open the door.’

Not likely. I take another drag of my cigarette and lazily flick the ash out of the open window. I’m not going to waste a perfectly good fag for the sake of my stupid stepdad.

‘Jessie, I mean it. If you don’t open the door right now, I will break it down.’

Oh, for God’s sake. Get a grip, Stu.

‘I’m getting dressed. I’ll be out in minute!’ I call.

‘No, you’re not. You’re on your windowsill smoking and drinking my good cider. It’s gone from the fridge.’

He shouldn’t have left it in there then.

‘I’m breaking the door down!’ he shouts. There’s a loud thump.

Blimey, he really has got his knickers in a twist.

‘I’m NAKED!’ I shout back. ‘If you want to get done by child services, go right ahead!’

‘Don’t you give me that, young lady. What would your mother say?’

‘Don’t push me, Stu.’ His words make my ears burn.

‘She’d be so disappointed,’ he adds.

I angrily throw the cigarette out the window and storm to the door, wrenching it open. ‘To hell with Mum!’ I yell. ‘She’s
dead,
so she can’t say
anything!’