by Paige Toon
‘No, no, it’s okay,’ I brush him off. ‘I’d rather do it myself so I know where everything is.’
‘Control freak.’
‘That’s me,’ I say brightly, flashing him a grin and walking out of the studio.
I heave the first suitcase onto the bed and unzip it. I take out my cosmetics bag and go straight to my beloved bathroom with the intention of unpacking it, but when I’m greeted with the sight of the beautiful big spa tub, the urge to relax in it overcomes me. I decide to unpack later. I put in the plug and turn on the taps, then open the cupboards under the sink so I can start to put away my things. I gasp with amazement as tiny light bulbs inside the cupboard reveal the most divine selection of beauty goodies I think I’ve ever seen. Glass bottles of expensive bubble bath in an array of colours sparkle at me like glittering jewels, and top-name brands of moisturisers, facial scrubs, eye creams – you name it – are lined up in neat little rows. Lena, Lena, you have truly outdone yourself. First things first, I reach for a bottle of ruby-red bubble bath and pour some under the tap.
This is bliss, I think to myself a little while later, immersed up to my neck in warm water peaked with fluffy white bubbles. I could get used to this.
Christian . . .
My mood instantly turns sombre. What would he say if he could see me now? Nothing. I think he’d say nothing. He’d regard me with disgust and walk away. I get out of the bath soon after that.
Chapter 29
I poke my head out of the bedroom door and can still hear music coming from the studio. I haven’t been in the bath for long, so I’ve probably still got a little time to unpack. I open the wardrobes and find that I’m face to face with an old friend of mine.
A sheepskin sheep stares out at me from one of the shelves in the wardrobe. This was my Christmas present from Johnny when we went to the Dales the first time. I still remember laughing about it, because that Christmas other personal assistants were being given cars by their celebrity bosses. But this bloody sheep meant more to me than any car ever could. I left it here when I quit. I hoped Johnny would see it, but assumed Sandy would throw it out. It’s strange finding it here again. It looks the same, it’s in the same place, but everything around it has changed and moved on. Especially me. It’s a weird feeling.
I pick it up and almost expect it to baa at me. On an impulse I leave the packing unfinished and walk back down the landing to the studio. Movement at the corner of my eye as I pass Barney’s bedroom brings me to a standstill. I peek inside and see Johnny cradling Barney in his arms, singing softly. He has his back to me. Barney would be tired. He’s obviously trying to get him to sleep – something I rarely manage during the daytime without four wheels and motion.
The front-door buzzer sounds loudly and Barney jolts in Johnny’s arms. He lifts his sleepy head and sees me, and then all of Johnny’s hard work is undone. Barney starts to rub his eyes and cry, and Johnny smiles wryly and goes to relocate him to my arms. I hold up the sheep.
‘I cannot believe you still have this.’ I put it down on a table and take Barney.
‘I can’t believe it either.’ He picks it up and turns it over. ‘Where was it?’
‘In my wardrobe. I thought Sandy would throw it out.’
‘Mmm.’ We meet each other’s eyes.
‘Well, ain’t this a happy little family!’
Startled, I spin around to see Dana standing in the doorway. She’s tiny, shorter than me by a couple of inches, and skinnier. She’s dressed all in black – black rock-chick T-shirt and black leggings with black peep-toe wedge heels. Her long, dark hair is tied up into a high, backcombed ponytail and she’s wearing a lot of make-up, even in the daytime.
‘Hey, little dude!’ She makes a beeline for Barney. ‘What’s with the tears?’
‘He’s tired,’ I reply on his behalf. Unpleasant goose pimples have formed all over my body. Her perfume is overpowering.
Barney stops crying for a moment to look at this strange, over-the-top American woman. Dana peers closely at his face. ‘Jesus, you do look like your daddy.’ She turns to Johnny. ‘Hey, baby,’ she says warmly, giving him a kiss, followed immediately by a longer one, straight on his lips. Then she faces me.
‘Dana, this is Meg,’ Johnny says.
We exchange hellos and she extends her hand so I give it a perfunctory shake. I notice her nails are short, and her blood-red nail polish is chipped. I wonder if she bites them.
‘What’s with the sheep?’ she says to Johnny. ‘That is one fucking ugly toy.’
I flinch at her language, but don’t say anything.
Johnny chuckles. ‘I bought it for Meg as a Christmas present when she worked for me.’
‘Fucking cheapskate.’ She laughs and I glance irritably at Johnny. Is he going to tell her off? Nope.
She reaches down and ruffles Barney’s hair. ‘So you’re the little dude that’s been keeping my man away.’
Barney starts to whinge.
‘I should get him to sleep,’ I say abruptly to Johnny. ‘I usually use the buggy.’
‘Throw him in his bed and be done with it,’ Dana says.
I can’t keep the annoyance from my face.
‘I’m joking!’ she cries with amusement. ‘I thought you British were supposed to have a sense of humour.’
I force a laugh.
‘Come on, Johnny, I’m starving. Are we going out to eat or what?’
Johnny glances at me, then back at her. ‘Let’s see what’s in the kitchen.’
‘Have you got a new cook?’
‘No, not yet.’ He leads her to the door.
‘Bum. I could really do with a fucking Rosa quesadilla special right now. Fucking bitch.’
I reel backwards in horror.
‘Joke, chick!’ Dana calls back at me, before cracking up laughing.
As soon as they’ve gone, I let out a long breath and realise I’ve been holding it. The smell of Dana’s perfume is lingering. I lean down and sniff Barney’s hair – he smells of her, and I bloody hate it.
I don’t want to go back downstairs to find Barney’s buggy so I persevere and manage to get him to sleep in my arms. He’s exhausted after our inter-continental flight, so it’s not hard. I lay him in his cot and pull the covers over him, then stroke his hair back away from his face and stare down at him for a while. I turn and see the sheep on the table. I pick it up and scrutinise it. What is she talking about, saying it’s ugly? No, it’s not. As sheep go, it’s not bad. In fact, it’s pretty damn attractive. Dana’s clearly deluded.
Lovely Lena has already installed a baby monitor so I don’t need to go and dig one out from my suitcase. I take the parent handset and wait until I’m outside the room before switching it on. I don’t want the interference to make a loud screeching noise and wake Barney up.
I’d much rather hide out in my bedroom and continue with my unpacking, but it feels rude not to go and chat to Dana. Mind you, she was planning on going out, so she’s obviously not bothered about conversing with me. I hesitate. No. I should make an effort to get to know her, even if she would prefer me to steer clear.
I find them outside on a couple of sunloungers. They’re both smoking and Dana has her hand in a bowl of peanuts. Couldn’t be bothered to cook, I’m guessing.
‘Hi,’ I say, sliding the glass door shut behind me.
‘Alright?’ Johnny replies. Dana lifts her cigarette in a half wave and chucks some peanuts in her mouth.
‘He’s asleep,’ I tell them.
Johnny nods. Dana tilts her face up towards the sky. I stand there feeling awkward and then make myself go and sit on a sunlounger nearby.
‘So, Dukey’s hangin’ out at Marmont tonight,’ Dana says casually. ‘We should go.’ I assume she’s talking about Chateau Marmont: celeb heaven.
Johnny glances at me before looking away again and taking a long drag on his cigarette. ‘I don’t know,’ he replies before exhaling.
Dana sits up and glares at him. ‘What? Why not
? He’ll be pissed at you if you don’t show.’
‘Why should he care if I go or not?’
‘You know what he’s like. He’ll be bustin’ his ass to make sure the PR machine’s running like a dream. You’re his money shot.’
‘And you think that makes me want to go?’
‘Come on, Johnny, they need the publicity. Do it for me.’
‘Who’s Dukey?’ I interrupt.
Dana huffs and lies back down again. Johnny turns his head towards me.
‘Dana’s manager.’
‘Oh, right. What’s he publicising?’
‘A new band he’s signed.’
I remember the last time a girlfriend’s manager tried to swing on the coat-tails of Johnny’s success. It didn’t end well. Johnny doesn’t like being manipulated. I’m surprised Dana’s manager doesn’t know this already. Is it wrong to feel smug?
Johnny is still looking at me, but I can’t see his eyes behind his dark shades. It’s disconcerting. He looks away.
‘Alright,’ he says in Dana’s direction.
Hey?
‘I’ll go.’
‘Cool,’ Dana replies indifferently, throwing another handful of nuts into her mouth. I no longer feel so self-righteous.
‘Come if you want,’ Johnny says offhandedly to me as he stubs out his cigarette.
Dana screws up her nose. ‘It won’t be much fun.’
‘No, you’re alright, thanks,’ I reply. ‘I’ll be jet-lagged anyway, and I wouldn’t leave Barney on his first night here.’
‘Haven’t you got a fucking nanny?’ Dana asks.
‘No.’ I give Johnny a pointed look.
He leans over and pats Dana’s thigh. ‘Can’t swear anymore, babe.’
‘Why the fuck not?’
‘Barney.’
‘The little dude’s not even here!’ she exclaims, sitting upright. I hate how she’s already found her own nickname for him.
‘Yeah, but you’ve gotta get out of the habit. Unless you want to incur Meg’s wrath,’ Johnny drawls, glancing my way. Dana meets my eyes for a long moment and then looks away herself. I have a horrid feeling she couldn’t care less about upsetting me.
‘What’s that?’ She points at my hand with her lit cigarette.
‘Barney’s baby monitor.’
She gets another cigarette out of the packet and lights it from the stub of her current one. ‘What, like some kind of walkie-talkie?’
‘Yes. I’ll hear him if he wakes up.’
She hands Johnny the new cigarette and lights another for herself. Chain-smoking by its very definition. Nice.
‘That’s a bit Big Brother, isn’t it?’ She blows a puff of smoke in my direction.
I’m unable to keep my laugh from sounding derisive. ‘He’s only a year and a bit old.’
‘Wrestle control early,’ she replies, unaffected by my tone. ‘That’s what I’d do, too. Not that I plan on getting knocked up.’ She kicks Johnny gently with her peep-toe wedge. ‘So if you fancy yourself as some kind of Baby Daddy you’d better look for a different girl.’
Johnny smirks and nudges her foot away.
I don’t want to be here anymore.
‘Where are you going?’ Johnny asks when I get up.
‘Going to finish my unpacking before Barney wakes up.’
‘Have fun,’ Dana says, not even bothering to look at me.
I’ll have a hell of a lot more fun than if I stay here, that’s for sure.
Chapter 30
When I worked for Johnny, I made friends with another CPA – Celebrity Personal Assistant – called Kitty. We stayed in touch for a while after I quit, but, as time went on, our contact dwindled. I’ve been in LA for a few days before I decide to call her, but I still have no idea what to say. The thing about this business is that people have to be discreet; it’s part of the job description. I think I can trust Kitty. I never confided in her at the time about what went on with Johnny – I was constrained by the privacy agreement I’d signed. When I left so suddenly, Kitty knew better than to ask if anything had happened between us, but I’m sure she had her suspicions.
This town is too small to stay hidden for long. Kitty is going to find out on the celebrity circuit that I’m back, even if we do manage to keep Barney a secret from the press for a while. People talk. I’d rather she heard it from me. I just hope she’s the same person she was when I left.
I call her on a Saturday morning. Her number is the same; so she’s still working for Rod Freemantle, a middle-aged actor who has had almost as many wives as Brad and Angelina have children. He’s currently on his fifth.
She answers the phone: ‘Rod Freemantle’s office.’
‘Kitty.’
‘Yes, can I help you?’
‘It’s Meg.’
‘Meg!’ she cries, dropping all formality. ‘Long time no hear! How’s it going?’
‘Good! Really good.’
‘How’s your little boy?’
‘Barney is great,’ I say, just in case she’s forgotten his name. ‘He’s almost one and a half, can you believe?’
‘Jeez, no, I can’t believe it. I’m so ashamed that I haven’t met him yet.’ I’m about to tell her she can make up for lost time, but she moves on. ‘How’s Christian?’
‘Er, not so good,’ I reply.
‘What’s wrong with him?’
‘We split up.’
‘Oh, man!’ she exclaims. ‘That sucks. What happened?’
‘It’s a long story . . . Too long to explain on the phone.’
‘Well, I ain’t coming to London anytime soon . . .’
She doesn’t even know I’ve been living in France. ‘Just as well I’m in LA, then,’ I reply.
‘Are you kidding me?’
‘Nope.’
‘What are you doing back here?’
‘That is part of the long story. Listen, when can we hook up?’
‘I’m free this arvo?’
I hesitate for all of two seconds. Johnny’s going out tonight, so he can hardly have a problem with me going out today. He’s got Dana for company – and that’s something I won’t fight him for.
‘Sounds good.’
Kitty and I meet on Melrose Avenue at one of our old haunts, an Italian coffee shop which does some of the best pasta dishes I’ve ever tasted. She’s already there when I walk in, struggling to carry Barney and my oversized bag.
‘Oh my God!’ she cries, getting to her feet and rushing over. ‘I cannot believe you gave birth to that!’
I laugh. ‘He wasn’t this big when I squeezed him out.’
She checks me over. ‘You look amazing!’
‘I tried not to let myself go,’ I joke. I’m wearing skinny jeans, brown leather boots and a fitted navy-blue military peacoat, which Mum bought for me as an early birthday present.
‘Here, let me help you.’ She relieves me of my bag and leads the way through the cramped space to our table. I sit Barney on my lap because there are no high chairs. He immediately reaches for the salt and pepper shaker.
Kitty still looks the same, albeit a little older. She’s wearing a stripy chocolate, beige, army-green and hot-pink dress, teamed with a purple cardie and a chunky green belt. She must be thirty-three now; she was thirty when I met her three years ago, and I was only twenty-four then, so she’s always been older and wiser than me. She stares at Barney and shakes her head, her dark-brown ringlets bouncing around her shoulders.
‘He’s so big now! He has your hair.’
‘And Johnny’s eyes,’ I say. I wasn’t planning on dropping the bombshell in quite such an offhand fashion, but it just sort of came out. It takes a few moments for the news to sink in, and, when it does, her jaw practically hits the table.
‘Pardon?’ I’ve never heard her say pardon before.
‘He’s Johnny’s,’ I tell her. ‘Strictly confidential, of course.’
‘He’s . . . He’s . . . Johnny Jefferson has a son?’
‘Yep.’
I lift my fingers up and point at the top of Barney’s head.
‘Holy shit, Meg!’
‘Oops, no swearing.’
She clamps her hand across her mouth and her wide-open eyes stare at me. ‘He’s Johnny’s?’
‘Yep.’
‘What about Christian?’
My nonchalance dries up. I take a deep breath and sigh. ‘I thought – hoped – Barney would be Christian’s. But as you can see, he looks nothing like him.’
‘Is that why you split up?’
‘It’s a pretty good reason, don’t you think?’
‘So what are you doing back here?’ Again she clamps her hand over her mouth. ‘You’re not back with Johnny?’
‘No, no,’ I brush her off. ‘No, he’s with Dana, hook, line and sinker. But he didn’t take the news about Barney as badly as I thought he would. He wanted us to come here and spend some time with him.’
Bump goes her jaw on the table again.
‘Sorry, are we talking about the same Johnny Jefferson?’
‘Yeah, I know,’ I smile wryly. ‘It came as a surprise to me, too.’
‘Hang on, hang on, let’s backtrack a bit. What happened? Was it just a one-night stand?’
‘No, it was more than that.’ I explain to her about the whole shebang and finally come to the part about him asking me to go and live with him in LA.
‘And you said no?’ She looks at me like I’m mad.
I screw up my nose. ‘You wonder why?’
‘But he’s Johnny Jefferson, Meg! How could you have said no to him?’
‘I didn’t manage to say no to everything.’ I indicate Barney with my fingers once more. ‘As you can see by Exhibit A.’
‘Holy shit! Sorry.’
The waitress belatedly comes over to take our order. We’ve been too busy talking to realise we’ve been ignored all this time. I haven’t had a chance to look at the menu so I order an old favourite – lasagne – plus some penne pomodoro for Barney.
‘What’s been happening with you?’ I ask casually when we’re alone again.
‘No. Uh-uh.’ She shakes her head. ‘Nothing’s been happening with me. Nothing that even remotely compares to what’s been happening with you.’
