‘Sure,’ I breathe, as he tugs me away, a sense of urgency in his grasp as we storm out of the games room. Neither of us speaks as we cross the pool terrace. I’m vaguely aware of eyes following us, and I try to tell myself not to care what they think because tomorrow I’m gone and I’ll never see them again, but I still feel a little anxious.
It’s quieter inside the house. Jack lets go of my hand as we go up the stairs and my trepidation increases as we arrive at his bedroom door. I follow him inside and wait uncertainly by the door as he pulls the curtains shut. His movements slow, become more deliberate as he turns on his side light and pulls an iPhone out of his pocket. A beat fills the room like a heartbeat as the dark and moody strains of Placebo’s ‘Running Up That Hill’ begin to play out of the speakers on the desk.
Jack comes my way unhurriedly, reaching his arm past me to the door. I step aside, sick with excitement and nervous energy as he turns the lock. And then his hands are in mine, intent in his eyes as he leads me to the bed.
‘I’m not . . . I can’t . . .’ I stutter, all of a sudden unsure of myself and what I’ve got myself into.
‘I just want to kiss you again,’ he murmurs, and then his lips are on mine, his hands in my hair and I fall down to the bed with him, wanting nothing more than to kiss him back.
No, I want more than that . . . I’m lying if I say otherwise. But I can’t. I barely know him. He eases himself on top of me, his body weight crushing mine in the most deliciously pleasant way. His leg slides between mine and I feel a dart of desire as I realise that he wants me, too. I can feel him. Oh, Jesus, we’d better stop now.
A phone starts to ring and he reluctantly breaks away from me.
‘It’s yours,’ he says, looking down at my bag.
What? Who’s calling me at this hour? He rolls off me and I climb off the bed and grab my bag, digging around and pulling out the ringing iPhone. Eh? It’s Davey.
‘I thought you didn’t have a phone,’ I hear Jack say.
‘I borrowed it for tonight,’ I quickly reply. ‘Hello?’ I answer breathlessly. My lips feel swollen.
‘Hello Miss Pickerill,’ Davey says warmly. ‘I’m outside the gates, waiting for you.’
‘But I thought I was going to call you.’ I grab Jack’s wrist and check the time on his watch. Blimey. It’s one o’clock.
‘Mr Jefferson said I should collect you now.’
You have got to be kidding me. Johnny’s worse than Stu. At least at home I could stay out and just sneak in.
‘Shall I come inside to find you?’ Davey asks, and I detect an authority to his tone that I haven’t witnessed before.
Disappointment and resignation swirl through me. ‘No, I’ll come out,’ I tell him.
‘I’ll see you in five minutes.’ That sounds like a warning.
‘OK.’ I end the call and turn to look at Jack. ‘My ride’s here,’ I say regretfully.
‘I could’ve given you a lift home,’ he says with a frown, propping himself up on his elbows.
I give him an unimpressed look. ‘You’ve been drinking.’
He sighs heavily with discontent as I stuff my phone back into my bag and hang it over my shoulder.
‘You going to see me out?’ I prompt.
‘Of course. Yeah.’ He jumps up and I go to the door. I feel his warm hand on my back and then he’s leaning past me to unlock the door. I glance over my shoulder again and then his lips are on mine and we’re kissing with a passion I’ve never experienced before in my life. It makes me feel giddy. As he breaks away and stares down at me, I’m overcome with the urge to cry. I bite my lip and turn away. He doesn’t touch me as we walk back downstairs.
‘This way,’ he says in a low voice, taking me to the front door. He opens the door, pressing a button on a buzzer beside it. I hear the sound of the automatic gates sliding open.
‘I can see myself out,’ I say, not wanting Davey to spot Jack and make any assumptions, however right they may be.
‘OK,’ he says, a pained look on his face. ‘I don’t want you to go,’ he mutters, pulling me to him.
Our last kiss is so sweet.
Tears fill my eyes as I walk away, trying not to look back.
‘Bye, Jessie,’ he calls.
I spin on the soles of my feet and walk the last couple of steps backwards.
‘Bye, Jack. I’ll see you round.’
But I know that I won’t.
I try to fix the sight of him standing in the doorway into my mind as I flash him one last smile. I round the corner to the waiting limo, trying to swallow the lump in my throat as I see Davey get out of the car.
‘Miss Pickerill,’ he says, opening the door for me.
I don’t let myself cry until I’m safely inside.
Chapter 20
I sob myself to sleep that night and I’m still miserable when I come to the following morning, my eyes stinging and puffy. For the first time in a very long time, my tears are not for my mum. There’s a strange relief in that, even though the pain is still acute.
I lie there for a while and stare up at the ceiling. It’s early, but I won’t be able to fall asleep again. I don’t want to go home. It’s too soon. I’ve only just met my new family. I have a dad! And I have half-brothers who I barely know. I don’t want to play a minor part in their lives. I want them to know me. I want them to know I’m their big sister. I feel a fondness when I think of them, a fondness which I’m certain will develop into proper blood-is-thicker-than-water-style love. I want to watch them grow and not feel like a stranger every time I come to visit.
And then there’s Jack . . . I’ve only just met him, but he’s got right under my skin and I hate that we’re over when we’ve barely even started.
I’m still close to tears when I venture downstairs for my final breakfast. My flight is at two o’clock. I can’t bear to pack my bags yet. My clothes probably aren’t all going to fit anyway, not after the shopping sprees I’ve been taken on. It feels like we went to Melrose Avenue days ago, but so much has been packed into these last couple of days, and last night was a long one.
A shiver goes through me as I remember Jack’s lips on mine, his body pressed up against me. My whole body tingles as I think about kissing him, touching him. I bite my lip with nervous exhilaration as I imagine what might have happened if Davey hadn’t called. How far would we have gone? And how much willpower would I have needed to tell him to stop?
Meg and the boys are having their usual breakfast, and Johnny is also drinking a cup of coffee at the table when I mope into the kitchen.
‘Hey, kid,’ he says.
‘Hi!’ Meg exclaims. ‘How was your night?’
‘Shorter than I wanted it to be.’ I give Johnny a pertinent look, but he shrugs innocently.
I pull out a chair and slump into it.
‘You want me to get you something?’ Johnny asks casually, the first time he’s offered since I got here.
‘No, I’m not hungry.’
‘You been drinking again?’ He raises one eyebrow.
‘That’s not why I’m not hungry,’ I mutter.
I glance over at Phoenix opening his little bird mouth as Meg feeds him. Barney pretends his spoon is a plane as it crashes into his cereal.
‘Barney, don’t make a mess,’ Meg chides, and the urge to cry overwhelms me.
I shove my chair out from the table and rush out of the room. The sliding doors are open wide – the warm morning air wafting into the living room. I hurry outside and give up – I can’t fight my tears. I walk across the terrace and let my sobs take over.
‘Hey, hey,’ Johnny says gently from behind me. ‘Jessie, what’s wrong?’
I turn around and crash into him, burying my face in his chest as I cry. Hesitantly, his arms come around me, and I realise it’s the first time we’ve actually hugged.
‘Shh,’ he soothes. ‘Shh, it’s OK. What’s wrong?’
‘I don’t want to go home,’ I find myself blubbing. ‘It’s too so
on. I’ve only just got here.’ And then I can’t speak any more because I’m crying too much.
‘Shh, shh,’ he says again, rocking me slightly. I feel closer to him then in that moment than I ever have. ‘You don’t have to go home,’ he says in a deep voice.
What? I pull away and look up at him, tears continuing to streak their way down my cheeks.
‘You don’t have to go home if you don’t want to,’ he says again, rubbing my tears away with his rough thumbs.
‘But I . . . But my flight is at two o’clock,’ I stutter.
‘So we’ll cancel it,’ he says calmly, his green eyes staring down at me.
‘What? You mean it? I can stay?’
He half laughs. ‘I’m only just getting to know you, too.’ He pushes a strand of hair out of my eyes. ‘You remind me of her, you know. Candy.’
I jolt, but I shake my head. ‘We look nothing alike.’
‘You do. More than you know. You have her smile . . . Her nose . . .’ He lightly taps my nose with his index finger. ‘The shape of her eyes . . . OK, the eye colour is mine,’ he concedes. ‘I don’t want you to go home, yet, either.’
My head is buzzing with everything he’s saying. I so want to believe him. ‘But what about your holiday? Aren’t you going away tomorrow?’
‘You can come with us.’
Hope surges through my heart and I can barely speak. ‘Are you serious?’ I finally manage to ask.
‘I wouldn’t joke about this,’ he says.
‘But what about Meg? Would she be OK with me staying?’ My questions tumble into one another.
‘I don’t have to ask her permission,’ he says as my optimism takes a nosedive. It feels like I’ve just got Meg on side and I don’t want her to hate me all over again. ‘She’ll be fine,’ he says, as though trying to reassure me. Maybe he’s trying to convince himself, too.
‘I’ll help out around the house more,’ I blurt. ‘I’ll look after Barney and Phoenix. I’ll . . . I’ll . . . I can help Eddie cook—’
‘Enough!’ He laughs. ‘You don’t have to do any of that. Well, only if you want to. But we really need to talk to your stepdad, OK?’
Shit. I forgot about Stu. How’s he going to feel when he hears I don’t want to come home yet? I feel a twinge of guilt, but shrug it away. I have to stay.
‘Shall we go and call him together?’ he suggests.
‘Hadn’t you better run it past Meg first?’
He pulls a face. ‘Yeah. I guess that would be a good idea.’ He rubs my arms with his hands and steps away from me. ‘I’ll be back in a sec.’
My heart continues to race as I pace the terrace, too restless to sit down. A few minutes later he reappears at the door and I swear I’m going to burst with happiness when he grins at me. ‘Come on,’ he beckons me inside. ‘We’ve got a phone call to make.’
Chapter 21
Stu sounds so pleased when he realises it’s me on the other end of the line and I feel guilty about what I’m about to say.
‘All packed?’ he asks.
‘I’m thinking about staying,’ I exclaim.
Silence. ‘Pardon?’
‘I’d like to stay for a bit longer,’ I say. ‘Johnny says it’s OK.’
‘Oh. Right.’ He sounds taken aback. Johnny motions for the phone.
‘Johnny wants to speak with you,’ I tell him.
‘Oh! Right.’ Exactly the same words, but now he sounds on edge. I pass the phone over.
‘Hey. Good to talk to you.’ Here I am, at the other end of a one-way conversation again. ‘Yeah, that’s right. And I’d like her to stay.’ Pause. ‘If you’re OK with that?’
He’d better be, I think to myself as I sit there biting my nails and staring idly at Johnny’s tattoos trailing up his arm.
POW! I’m reminded of Jack and butterflies flit through me.
Stu agrees, on the understanding that I’m home well in time for the next school term, earlier if I change my mind about staying.
Johnny pats my back as I say goodbye to Stu. He goes out of the office, leaving me to it. I promise Stu I’ll continue to call him often, and he tells me he’ll set up Skype so he can see my face.
Afterwards, I go upstairs to my bedroom and sit on the bed, trying to take everything in. I’m not going home. I am not going home. I can’t believe it. I’m staying. I’m staying! I’m going to be in LA for the summer! Getting to know my new dad! My new family!
And Jack . . .
What about Tom? I feel surreal when I think about him. I’m sure that when I see him again, I’ll still have feelings for him, but he’s so far away. It occurs to me that maybe he’ll have a holiday romance with a girl in Ibiza, and the thought stings. But the pain is muted because of Jack and the possibilities there. What will he say when I tell him I’m staying?
‘He’s only into you because you’re leaving.’ Lissa’s words come back to haunt me. Jack doesn’t do commitment . . .
I should text him. We’re flying in Johnny’s private jet to the Virgin Islands tomorrow, and from there we’ll be sailing by yacht to a secluded island for a two-week holiday in beach huts overlooking the ocean. Johnny has booked the entire resort so we’ll have the island to ourselves. I can’t actually get my head around that. It sounds too good to be true.
Anyway, the holiday means I won’t be seeing Jack for a while, but I need to let him know I’ll be back in LA soon. Of course, I could let him stew, but it would serve me right for playing games if he hooked up with another girl in the meantime. No, I’ll definitely contact him, but today I just want to let all of this sink in.
There’s a knock at my door, stirring me from my thoughts.
‘Can I come in?’ Meg calls.
‘Sure,’ I call back. I study her as she walks into the room. She doesn’t look annoyed. But I haven’t forgotten her saying she wanted to get me out of the way before their holiday.
‘Hi,’ she says.
‘I hope you’re OK with me being here a bit longer,’ I say hesitantly. ‘I don’t want to cause trouble between you and Johnny.’
She smiles wryly and shakes her head. ‘Johnny and I have been through much worse than this, I can assure you.’ She perches next to me on the bed. ‘I understand why you want to stay,’ she says gently, her brown eyes full of compassion. ‘And you’re right, it is too soon for you to be going home. You and Johnny have got a lot of catching up to do.’
I exhale with relief. ‘It’s not just Johnny,’ I find myself telling her. ‘It’s Phoenix and Barney as well. I’ve never had siblings before. It was always just Mum and me. And Stu.’
‘The boys adore you, too,’ Meg says.
She sighs and I tense up again, wondering what she’s going to say next.
‘Look, I’m going to be honest with you,’ she continues. ‘I was terrified when Johnny told me about you. I know he told you about Barney and how I kept quiet about him being his son for over a year after he was born.’
I nod. Johnny must’ve filled her in on our conversation from Friday night.
She swallows and looks down at her hands. ‘Trust me, I know how bad that sounds. You probably think I’m a heartless bitch, but I swear I thought I was doing the right thing.’
I open my mouth to say that I don’t think she’s heartless, and she’s proved herself not to be a bitch, despite initially calling me a wannabe rock star, but she carries on before I can say anything.
‘I’m sure you’ve heard all about Johnny’s struggles with drink and drugs?’
‘Yes.’ Is she finally going to tell me about how she and Johnny got together?
‘Right, unless you’ve been living on Pluto for the last ten years,’ she says sardonically. ‘Well, he and I had a thing going on, when I worked for him as his PA. I fell for him. I didn’t want to – I knew he was bad for me – but I couldn’t help myself. He had serious issues with commitment.’
Her words make me think of Jack, but I try to concentrate.
‘Johnny’s oldest
friend Christian used to hang out here in LA with us occasionally – he was writing Johnny’s biography.’ She pauses, maybe thinking better of telling me all this. ‘Anyway, I won’t go into it all now—’
‘Please do,’ I beg. ‘I’d really like to hear it.’
She hesitates. ‘OK. So anyway, when things got really rocky with Johnny, I left LA and went home. Christian, who had always looked out for me, sought me out and we became friends. And eventually more than that,’ she says quietly.
I wait for her to go on.
‘Johnny went mental when he found out.’ She looks at me, her eyes alight as she remembers. ‘He told me he loved me, that he wanted me to come back to LA with him, and . . . I refused. I couldn’t do that to Christian. But I . . . Well.’ She shifts with embarrassment and looks away. ‘Things got out of hand. We . . .’ She turns her palms outwards, but doesn’t say the words. ‘I fell pregnant.’ She appears smaller somehow as she relates this to me. ‘And on the day I went for my first scan, I realised that Johnny was never going to change for me.’ She takes a deep breath. ‘This is still surprisingly hard to talk about.’
‘I appreciate you telling me,’ I say. And I do. She’s showing me respect by trusting me with her story. I’m not just anyone. I’m Johnny’s daughter and she’s treating me like part of his – her – family. Affection swells inside me as I process this fact.
‘I knew I should have said something to Christian . . . To Johnny . . . But I honestly believed that Johnny would have run a mile if he’d known I was pregnant, and Barney could have been Christian’s. I wanted him to be . . .’ Again her voice trails off. ‘When he was born with dark hair and blue eyes, I was so relieved I’d made the right decision.’ She smiles at my confused frown. ‘I know, Barney could not be more blond or green-eyed now, but it took him a fair few months to get there, and by then I found myself in a bit of a pickle.’ I know she’s putting it mildly. ‘I saw Johnny again for the first time when Christian’s mother died.’ She freezes as she realises she might be reminding me of my mum’s death.
‘It’s fine,’ I reassure her.