Don't You Remember

by Lana Davison

  As the office tour ended, Michael ushered Johnny into a meeting room, with one large table and twelve chairs tucked neatly into the table.

  “Take a seat over here,” Michael said, gesturing towards the end of the table. Johnny sat down and Michael put on his glasses and went through a file of papers, including a plan for future performances and supporting gigs for the next four months. He explained to Johnny this was the best way to get out into the public eye and reminded him that he would be with him every step of the way. Finally, they came to the contract and Johnny signed over twenty percent of his earnings. If Hunter Management could kick-start his music career on the scale they promised, then they were more than welcome to twenty percent.

  Michael walked Johnny back to reception. “And Johnny, let’s get you into some decent accommodation. Amelia, can you see to that? Can you get our real estate on the line and organize some viewings for Johnny. We need something special for our newest talent.” With that, Michael smiled and saluted to Johnny as he whisked himself away.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Gran’s house was small but bigger than my old house, with three bedrooms, one bathroom, a separate living room and a kitchen. The décor was dated but functional. Gran gave Dad and me our own rooms and as we didn’t have many belongings, I simply put my new clothes in a drawer and then I was done. The bathroom looked dated with a sixties style flower power style tile surrounding the shower and bath. I actually really liked the bathroom, in a groovy kind of way, it was like stepping back in time. Gran’s bedroom was the biggest, after all it was her house, with my room being the smallest, a short distance from the facilities. The house was compact but our living arrangement could work, at least I hoped it would. I had less than eighteen months before leaving.

  The next day I walked the fifteen minutes to high school. My school records had arrived and I was able to take them with me on my first day.

  The school was roughly the same size as that in Rushton but seemed noisier to me. Perhaps I was more aware of my surroundings because they were new. I found my way to reception and told the administrator I was new in town and handed over my school records. She handed me a card and a map and told me which classroom to go to.

  I walked slowly, taking a right turn here and a left turn there, reading all the signs on the doors to try and familiarize myself with my surroundings. I knocked on the classroom door and entered handing the teacher a card. He was in his fifties, with grey hair and a chubby, friendly face.

  “Right, who do we have here?” he said putting on his glasses and looking at the card. “Ah… let me see, Miss Redman? Jennifer Redman.” He nodded at me to verify the name.

  “Yes, but everyone calls me Jen,” I voiced softly.

  “OK, then,” he said lifting his eyes from the card and giving me the once over before turning to the class. “Class, this is a new student, her name is Jen Redman. Please make her welcome.”

  There was some laughing and pushing and shoving between some of the boy students. I looked the girls over quickly to see if there was someone I liked the look of, but couldn’t make a decision.

  “Miss Redman. I am Mr Allan, you can take a seat over there,” the teacher said, taking his glasses off and pointing with them in the direction of the spare chair and desk.

  I found my way to the desk and sat down taking a notebook and pen from my bag. The only other item in there was my wallet with enough money to buy myself some lunch.

  The day was long and dire; a couple of girls talked to me and tried to find out why I had come to their school. I told them I was from Rushton and my father and I decided to move for a change. I did not want to tell them my house had burnt down and that my mother was killed in the fire. I was accepting my new life and trying to move on with it.

  *****

  After two weeks, I had settled easily into my new school. I hadn’t received a letter or a phone call from Johnny, but somehow it didn’t bother me as much as it had when I was living in Rushton. I knew he would call soon, he just needed to get in touch with his mother and then he would call – I knew it in my heart.

  In the afternoon, on the way home, I went to the newsstand and noticed a small advertisement in the window reading Situations Vacant – Enquire Inside. After a ten-minute conversation with the manager I was hired to work Friday’s after school and all day Saturday.

  My new life was moving forward in all the right directions and I only wished there was some way I could get in contact with Johnny and let him know what was going on. I decided to call Pam in the evening, to see if Johnny had got my message, but her phone still wasn’t working.

  My father had found a job through an agency as a handyman in a retirement home and was very happy with himself. I was proud of him, he was really trying to sort out his life and he wanted to provide for me.

  As time went on, I became frustrated at not being able to contact Pam. She was my only connection to Johnny. Every day I rang her phone number until one day she eventually picked up. Pam sounded just like I would have expected, a little tipsy, perhaps even more than that, a little sozzled.

  “Pam? Pam its Jen.”

  “Who?” Pam replied, as if not hearing me properly.

  “Jen, Jen Redman.”

  “Hello Jen,” she said, sounding confused.

  “Pam, you know who I am right?”

  “Of course I do,” she said unconvincingly.

  “Pam, have you had any contact with Johnny? Have you heard from him?”

  “I have.”

  “And? Did you give him my letter, or tell him what happened?”

  “I did.”

  “What did he say?”

  “What did he say?” she asked as if puzzled by the question. “He said, ‘Good.’”

  “What do mean he said, ‘good’?” Getting information from Pam in this state was like trying to get blood from a stone.

  “He said, ‘good he has a letter.’”

  “Do you mean he has my letter?”

  “Yes, that’s right. He has a letter.”

  “Is it my letter?”

  “Yes.”

  “So just to be clear, Johnny definitely has my letter?”

  “He definitely has your letter.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes of course,” she said, struggling with her words.

  “OK, Pam, if you hear from him again, will you let him know I called and that I am waiting for him to get in contact?”

  “I will.”

  “Thanks, Pam,” I said, hanging up the phone, deflated by the conversation. Had Johnny really received my letter? Did he know what had happened? Pam did say she definitely gave him my letter. If that’s true why hadn’t he called?

  That night, I found it hard to sleep because of all the unanswered questions running through my mind. Why hadn’t Johnny been in touch? Had our relationship been just a teenage crush for him? Did I still have a place in his life, or was it all over?

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Johnny’s life had gone from good to wonderful. He worked often, he no longer had to find the gigs, it was all arranged for him. The money he was earning was better than he had ever had before and Hunter Management had moved him to a two bedroom apartment in Manhattan, which resembled a modern brick warehouse. Everything was moving so fast, he was invited to parties, mingling with music and media professionals and setting up the life he had always wanted to lead.

  Johnny had fallen in love with New York. He began to like hearing the city noises, the hustle and bustle, a place where he didn’t feel lonely anymore. Everyone wanted to know him these days. He had always been used to getting attention, but this was a different kind, as if everyone he met was trying to take him places. It was an amazing and exciting time for him. The only part of the picture he didn’t like was that Jen didn’t know what was going on. He wanted to share his news with her and tell her the words: ‘I promised I would take care of you and that is going to happen.’

  Johnny worked late most
nights, slept until midday, got on his bike and, like many New Yorkers, he embraced the use of Central Park, sometimes running, other times using his bike.

  Johnny had just gone for a run in Central Park and come back to his apartment to workout with his weights. He sat down on the corner of bench press stool with a towel wrapped around his neck. He dried off the sweat, took a glug from his water bottle and decided to try Jen’s phone number again. Nothing. Still nothing. He put his hands through his hair and flicked off the sweat and huffed. Where could she be? He decided to call his mother hoping that she had finally paid to get her phone reconnected. The phone starting ringing, that was a good sign, he felt somewhat relieved.

  “Hello,” Johnny’s mother said.

  “Mum?”

  “Hello.”

  “Mum, it’s John.”

  “Hello, my boy. I haven’t seen you for a very long time. When are you coming home?”

  “I don’t live there anymore, I’m not coming home.”

  “Where do you live?”

  “I’m in New York City.”

  “What are you doing there?” she asked, thrown by this information.

  “Working. Mum, I’m working here.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since… well, for quite a while,” he said, frustrated with her. She no longer cared about anything. Her life was one big complete waste, and she had made it like that. Being around her was a horrible reminder of everything he didn’t want to be.

  “Well well, you learn something new every day,” she said, clearly inebriated.

  “Mum, I can’t get in contact with Jen. Has she been to see you?”

  Pam looked out the window, facing the burned down house next door. “Johnny, Jen’s house burnt down.”

  “What?” he said, shocked.

  “Yes. They died in the fire, Johnny.”

  “Who died? Was it Jen?”

  “Johnny, listen. Jen doesn’t live there anymore.”

  “Is Jen alive? Did she die? Mum, have you seen her?”

  “No.”

  “Nothing. You haven’t seen or heard anything from her?”

  “Nope.”

  “And you’re sure about that?”

  “Nope. I mean yes, I mean…”

  “Just tell me what you know.”

  “I know there is no house next door and that someone died, maybe more than one person – maybe they all did, I can’t remember. I haven’t seen or heard anything from anyone,” she said, losing all recollection of the phone call with Jen and the hand delivered letter. She was really drinking herself to death these days and she didn’t care. No one could help, she didn’t want to be helped.

  “OK, I’ve got to go,” Johnny said, hanging up the phone then pacing the room, concerned, afraid even. A life without Jen was not an option. He decided to call the school, the school would know.

  “Operator, I need a number.”

  “Where do you want to call?”

  “Rushton High School.”

  “Just looking…. Putting you through now.”

  “Hello, Rushton High,” said the voice on the other end of the phone. It wasn’t a voice Johnny knew.

  “Hello, this is Johnny Cromwell. Please can you tell me if you have a student at your school called Jen Redman? I need to get in contact with her. I can leave a message with you.”

  “Please wait. I’ll just check our records.”

  Johnny waited on the line for what seemed like a very long time.

  “OK, Mr Cromwell,” the voice said eventually, “we do not have a student here of that name. I’ve just spoken to the school principal and he said she was involved in a very bad fire. I’m terribly sorry.”

  “Thank you.” Johnny stumbled backwards falling onto the bench. He couldn’t believe it, he couldn’t believe she was gone. Life would not be the same without the woman he loved more than anything. How could she be dead when they still had so many plans? He felt almost responsible, remembering their last conversation, the first disagreement they had ever had. She had died thinking he didn’t want her to come to see him.

  “No!” he screamed out, picking up his drink and throwing it into the brick wall. The bottle smashed on the wall and broke. “No,” he repeated softly, a single tear shedding from his eye.

  In complete silence he walked to the bathroom, taking all his clothes off angrily and stepping inside the large shower cubicle. He fell to the floor and rested his naked body up against the tiles allowing the hot water to fall onto his body.

  The sadness he felt was horrific, an emotion he had never felt before. He felt lost for the first time. What was it all for? What was he doing it all for? It was for them. If he could turn back time he would have waited for Jen. Perhaps if he had stayed she would never have been in the fire. Or if he had let her come to see him like she suggested, maybe she wouldn’t be dead. Was she in pain when she died? Was it quick? Did she suffer? He wished he could hold her now. He remembered holding her in his arms unable to conceivably think of a world without his Jen, the only one that ever really understood him. She was everything, his world. How could he go on? What was life like without love? What was it all for? There was nothing without love.

  Johnny. Johnny Cromwell, the big new sensation sat on the shower floor sobbing, unashamed, facing what he thought was true. He believed the love of his life was dead. Could there be anything harder than knowing he will never have one more day with the most wonderful and beautiful woman he had ever known? All alone, he realized he would have to live his life without her. He would no longer touch her again, no longer caress that amazing body she had given to him. It was going to be them against the world, now it was Johnny against the world. For what? It didn’t feel important any more.

  Johnny was strong like Jen; he had grown up just like her, responsible for his own needs from a very early age. That makes you strong. Johnny had to try and focus on his future, a future that he and Jen had promised themselves would be better than the life they had lived to date. That’s why he was doing all of this, for a better future for the both of them. Now, he had to focus on a future without his lovely Jen. In spite of everything he knew Jen would want him to have the life he dreamed about, even if it was without her. He had memories to hold onto now, but that would never be enough. But what else could he do? Nothing. He had to accept it, even if he didn’t like it.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  A whole year had passed and I was well and truly living my new life. There was only six months left until school finished and I had two things on my mind: one being Johnny and wondering why he never bothered to get in contact with me; and the other was college.

  I started to doubt the way Johnny felt about me and the promises he made but dismissed those thoughts, unable to believe it was at all possible.

  I had been thinking about taking a year out after school to spend some time with Johnny. I missed him so much, his absence was killing me. At school I had made friends for the first time. I had joined the school newspaper and realized I wanted to work as a journalist. My new life occupied my time thankfully and therefore I wasn’t constantly thinking about how much I missed Johnny and the prospect that he had forgotten about me. Until one day my worst fears were confirmed.

  I was working in the newsstand on a Saturday as usual. I really enjoyed the fast pace of the store and a little bit of banter with the customers. I was able to read the magazines when the store had a quiet period or in my lunch hour, and I was paid much better than I ever was at the music shop. Then one day I was flicking through a teen music magazine and noticed a picture of Johnny; and not just one picture, there were several. My heart pounded with excitement, realizing he must have been working so hard he probably didn’t have time to contact me. Then I flicked the page over and there, under the heading of ‘People and Parties NYC’ was a picture of Johnny with a beautiful girl on his arm. I dropped the magazine and gasped out loud. What did this mean? I tell you what it means, I told myself, he has moved on.

&
nbsp; “Jen, is everything all right?” my colleague, Jason, shouted out to me from the cash desk.

  “Um, no not really.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I just need to take a break.”

  “OK then.”

  I walked to the back room and sat down on the chair and let the tears stream down my face, I cried and cried until those cries turned to sobs. This was worse than when Johnny left, worse because I had been misled. I had been a stupid fool. I got some water and sipped slowly while I dried my eyes the best I could. I breathed through the tears and made a funny noise each time I exhaled, a noise familiar to anyone who has just had a good cry. I began to flick through some of the weekly magazines and saw more pictures of Johnny. What was going on? When did this all happen? I ran from the back room and past Jason telling him, “I’ll be back in half an hour. I’ll take my lunch break early OK?”

  “OK,” he agreed looking at the state of my red panda eyes.

  I dashed down to the music store and asked the sales assistant if she had any music by someone called Johnny Cromwell.

  “Do you mean Johnny Cromwell and The Fuel Injectors?”

  “Um, yes, I guess.”

  “Yes, I do,” she replied. “Lots of people have bought this single,” she said handing a copy over.

  “Why haven’t I heard it on the radio?” I asked.

  “It has been on the radio. It’s been playing all week. Perhaps you didn’t turn the radio on at the right time. Do you want this record or not?” she asked. I bought the single, curious about what song he had released.

  “Here, it’s on now,” the sales assistant said, pointing to the music store stereo system, trying to move with the beat of the tune. She smiled handing me my change. “What do you think? Isn’t it awesome?”

  I listened closely. Was it one of the songs I knew? I kept listening until I was sure either way… it was. The acoustics had changed, I could hear drum, guitar and the keyboards, but the words were the same and there was definitely some other back up vocals. I listened thinking, the song was good. In fact it was very good and really catchy. So, Johnny had a band. I didn’t even know that. Johnny was always going to make it, he just decided to do it without me.