Johnny's Girl

by Paige Toon

  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!’

  The look on Stuart’s face makes me want to burst into tears, but before he can pull me in for another one of his suffocating hugs, I slam the door shut in his face and lock it again. And then I slump to the floor and bawl my eyes out. I hope he’s got enough sense to leave me be.

  ‘Jessie?’ he says quietly after a minute or so.

  No such luck. ‘Just leave me alone, Stu,’ I blub.

  ‘I want to talk to you.’

  ‘Well, I don’t want to talk to you.’

  ‘Come on, Jess, I hate seeing you like this. I want to be there for you, help you through this.’

  ‘Please,’ I choke out. ‘Please, just leave me alone.’

  Silence. Has he gone?

  ‘You know I can’t do that.’

  Nope.

  ‘Unlock the door,’ he tries again. ‘I’ve made you a fish finger sandwich.’

  As if that’s going to swing it. Although, actually, I could really do with a fish finger sandwich right now.

  ‘Jessie?’ he tries again.

  My stomach rumbles. ‘I’ll be down in a minute,’ I relent, and even through the solid w
ood door I’m sure I can hear his sigh of relief.

  ‘Okay,’ he says gently.

  When I’m sure he’s gone, I get up and go to the mirror. My nose is red, my eyes puffy. My medium-length, light-blonde hair is a bit of a mess, but I like it like that. I grab some make-up from my dressing table and do my best to rectify my blotchy complexion. Damn Stu for making me cry like that. My eyeliner is completely screwed, and my mascara is halfway down my face. I outline my green eyes with black kohl and retouch my mascara, stuffing my pink lipstick into my pocket. Then I pull on my black beanie, grab my camo jacket and go and climb out of the window.

  It’s only seven o’clock, so it’s not dark yet. It’s pretty cold though, considering it’s the middle of June. I shove my hands into my jacket pockets and stomp along the footpath in the direction of town. I wonder if anyone is about. I pull out my mobile, but no one has texted me. I click on my inbox just in case I’ve missed a message and the first one at the top is from Libby – it was sent yesterday. Frowning, I plunge my phone back into my pocket. I can’t be bothered to reply. My best friend since she moved to Maidenhead, aged nine-and-a-half, wants to know how I’m doing. If she were still my best friend, she wouldn’t have to ask that question. Anyone with half a brain can see that I’m not doing very well.

  Maybe it’s my fault that we’ve grown apart. But I can’t stand to sit by and watch her and her perfect family get on with their lives when mine has been torn apart. She has her mum, her dad and her brothers. I have no one. And I can’t help but resent her for it, even though a small part of me knows that’s unfair.

  Okay, so maybe I have Stu, but he’s not my real dad. I don’t even know who my real dad is. He’s as much a mystery to me now as he was when it first occurred to me to ask my mum about him when I was seven.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she’d told me. ‘Stuart is a better father to you than he could ever be.’

  That may be so, but she’s still a bitch for keeping the truth from me.

  Oh, God! I don’t mean that. I’m sorry, Mum. I look up at the blustery, cloud-ridden sky and my eyes prick with tears. You’re not really a bitch. I have to bite my lip to stop it from wobbling as I take a left towards the park.

  There are a group of guys kicking a football around the small pitch. I scan the scene and see smoke trails drifting into the air on the far side of the park, under the trees. I’ll bet my beanie Natalie’s there. I set off in the direction of the trails, preparing to turn around if I’m wrong. One of the guys playing football scores a goal and his teammates are ecstatic. Honestly, you’d think they’re playing at Wembley. I roll my eyes as one of them lifts up his shirt and hooks it over his head like he’s Cristiano flippin’ Ronaldo.

  It’s then I notice Tom Ryder. He’s shaking his head with amusement at the guy showing off. He glances my way and I force myself to look past him and not catch his eye. I heard he split up with his girlfriend a few weeks ago, but I doubt he’ll be single for long. He’s in the year above me, and always seems to have girls after him.

  My pulse speeds up as I walk past the game, keeping my eyes trained on the group of four people sitting halfway up the bank. They’d better be my friends because I’ll die of embarrassment if I have to turn back now.

  ‘Alright, Jessie?’ The sound of Tom’s voice makes me jump, I hope not noticeably.

  ‘Hi, Tom,’ I reply as casually as I can, barely looking at him.

  ‘Come to watch me play football?’ he asks cheekily, and I give him a withering look instead of an answer. But that doesn’t deter him. He’s got so much confidence he could bottle it and sell it on eBay. ‘You going to Mike’s tomorrow night?’ he asks, scratching the top of his head. He has shortish, brown hair which always looks sort of stylishly messy.

  ‘What’s it to you?’ I reply. I am, actually. Mike is Natalie’s older brother by only a year. Their parents are away this weekend. Party time!

  Tom shrugs and grins at me, and my treacherous heart flips.

  ‘Hey!’ I hear a shout and turn to see Natalie coming towards me, her hand raised in a half-wave. Relief surges through me and I can’t help smiling as she beckons me over. ‘I didn’t know you were coming out tonight,’ she calls.

  ‘Neither did I.’ I turn away from Tom, and make my way over to her. I swear I can feel Tom’s brown eyes burning a hole into my back as I do so.

  As I reach her she gives me a hug, then pulls me towards the rest of the group. I can’t help it: I look back just in time to make eye contact with Tom for a split second before the ball shoots in his direction and distracts him.

  God he’s gorgeous. The only trouble is, he knows it.

  I say hi to the others, who turn out to be Dougie, Em and Aaron.

  Dougie and Em are in sixth-form college. Aaron and Natalie are in the year above me and destined to join them soon. I’ve only really been hanging out with them for a few months, but I’m already dreading my final year at school once they’ve gone.

  ‘What was Tom saying to you?’ Natalie demands. Her blue eyes stare at me intently, as she pushes her long dyed-black hair from her face. Em turns to me as well. She’s less striking than Natalie, with brown hair and a slightly orange complexion.

  ‘Nothing.’ I shrug. ‘He just asked if I’m going to yours tomorrow night.’

  ‘It’s going to be awesome,’ she says with a grin. ‘Do you want to crash over?’

  ‘Yeah, maybe.’ I think about my argument with Stu and the fish finger sandwich he made me and feel a prickle of guilt. I know he’s not going to be happy about me going out tomorrow too. Natalie passes me her can of cider and I take a big swig, and try to put Stu out of my mind. Not that I really need it – the cider I had earlier has already gone to my head and I’m still really hungry. I look over at Tom as he jogs across the pitch.

  ‘Let’s go on the zipwire,’ Natalie says suddenly, pulling me to my feet. I laugh and follow her.

  We’re still mucking about ten minutes later when the football game comes to an end. I notice Tom glance in our direction as Natalie drags the pulley back along the line and hands it to me. I climb on and shoot along the cable, squealing with laughter as I jerk up into the air at the other end. I look back over at Tom and he’s still standing on the grass, watching me with amusement.

  ‘You want a turn?’ I call, buoyed by the alcohol as I climb off the contraption.

  He says something to one of his friends and saunters over. By the time he reaches us, I’m back at the wooden platform and Natalie is raising one eyebrow at me. I smirk at her and pray I’m not blushing.

  ‘Did you win?’ I ask Tom, as he climbs up on to the platform and takes the pulley from me.

  ‘Course,’ he replies. He’s a bit sweaty after the match, but he’s still well fit. ‘Are you sure this thing’s safe?’ he asks.

  ‘Who gives a toss? Live dangerously, right?’

  He grins at me and my heart flutters. Then he’s off.

  ‘Wooooooo!’ he yells, as some of his mates catcall and clap.

  ‘You fancy Tom Ryder,’ Natalie singsongs into my ear, while I eye the muscles on his arms as he clings to the pulley.

  ‘Who doesn’t?’ I reply without missing a beat. He’s the best-looking guy in school.

  Soon all the boys from the football game want to get in on the act and a queue forms, but suddenly I feel a bit sick and dizzy. I gingerly climb down from the platform.

  ‘You were next,’ Tom says to me, taking the pulley from one of his mates. ‘They can wait.’

  ‘No, no, it’s okay.’ I wave him away.

  ‘Are you alright?’ he asks with a frown.

  ‘I’m fine,’ I reply, climbing a little way up the grassy mound next to the zipwire and sitting down. He follows and stands there, looking down at me.

  ‘You don’t look very well.’

  Actually I feel sick. Please go away, I think. ‘I’ll be okay,’ I say out loud. Too much alcohol, too little food, way too much excitement. I put my head in my hands and try
not to throw up.

  ‘Jessie!’

  I glance up to see Aaron and Dougie manically waving at me as they stride across the green. They point at the car park behind me, but I can’t see over the mound I’m sitting on. Tom looks past me. Before he can say anything, one of the guys waiting for the zipwire shouts: ‘What’s Mr Taylor doing here?’

  I shoot to my feet in an instant and see him, slamming shut the door of his little white hatchback. Mr Taylor. Our Maths teacher.

  Otherwise known as Stuart, my stepdad.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  ‘Better go,’ I mutter, getting up and walking away without looking back. I hear laughter and joking in the distance behind me, and I glance up once to see Stu’s features are set into a hard line.

  I’m still fighting the urge to throw up as I get into the car, an urge that overcomes me the moment Stuart drives with restrained fury out of the car park.

  ‘Stop!’ I gasp, shoving open the door in time to vomit on the curb.

  He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t need to. The air is thick with his disappointment...

  Want to know what happens when Jessie finds out who her real father is? Then look out for THE ACCIDENTAL LIFE OF JESSIE JEFFERSON, coming in January 2014. And follow Paige on Twitter (@PaigeToonAuthor) and Facebook (www.facebook.com/PaigeToonAuthor) now, to make sure you don’t miss out on another exclusive sneak peek… coming soon!

  Coming to you in 2014, a fabulous new novel from Paige Toon

  Thirteen Weddings

  Last year, Bronte left Sydney for a wedding in England, where she met newly single Alex. After a night of passion they parted ways, and Bronte returned to Australia.

  Now working on a picture desk for a magazine in London, Bronte is about to meet her new boss, who turns out to be all too familiar… Awkward at first, as Alex is now engaged to the girl he was on a break from when they met, they soon become friends.