I Knew You Were Trouble: A Jessie Jefferson Novel (7 page)

I chew on my bottom lip, nerves swirling unpleasantly around my stomach. I feel sick.

‘I just want you to be prepared,’ he says gently, covering my hand with his. His touch centres me for a moment, until he says, ‘Everything’s going to change.’

‘Look, whatever happens, happens,’ I reply suddenly, taking my hand away and pulling myself together. ‘But for now I’m just going to do what Stu said. Carry on as normal,
keep doing what I’m doing. If Samuel can get me home safely without anyone following us, I’ll be fine. And at least I can still go on my date tonight,’ I add with a goofy
grin.

Johnny doesn’t smile back at me. ‘I don’t like it,’ he says, shaking his head.

‘I’m going, Johnny,’ I reply firmly, trying to stare him down, but giving up after a few seconds because he’s obviously had more practice at this game. ‘I’m
going,’ I mumble.

Stu calls us later to let us know he’s home and waiting, so I go out to the garden to say goodbye to the boys and Brian. I’m still freaked out by the idea of a
paparazzo’s long lens directed at me from behind the trees, but Meg assured me that we’re safe within the grounds of Johnny’s home. It’s illegal for the paps to sneakily
photograph people on their own property.

‘You off already?’ Brian asks me with a frown.

I nod downheartedly. ‘When are you leaving?’

He shrugs. ‘Might stay on a few days. Keep these cheeky scamps company.’ He ruffles Barney’s hair. His grandsons are playing in the sandpit.

I bend down and pick up Phoenix, not caring that all of the sand sticking to his legs will soon be transferred directly to me. I kiss one of his squashy baby cheeks and then nuzzle his neck
until he giggles and wriggles out of my grasp. I place him back amid his diggers and crouch down next to Barney.

‘Bye, B,’ I say, tears pricking my eyes as I rub his back.

‘Bye-bye,’ he replies chirpily, grinning up at me and then turning back to his toys. Not satisfied with that farewell, I pull him into my arms, feeling like he’s literally
tugging on my heartstrings with his tiny hands. I only get a quick squeeze before he pulls away and plants a sloppy, wet kiss on my lips, then he tears off across the lawn, roaring like an
aeroplane. I watch him go sadly. I’ve seen so much of him and Phoenix over the last three months, but I don’t think he understands that he’s not going to see me for a long time.
We won’t risk another catch-up before they leave the UK, so today is goodbye.

I wonder if they’ll miss me.

I straighten up and meet Brian’s eyes.

‘See you soon,’ he says, grasping my arm with his bony fingers.

‘You take care, Gramps,’ I find myself saying. ‘Maybe I’ll come to see you in a week or two?’

‘That’d be great,’ he replies with a smile.

I wasn’t expecting a grandfather to be part of the deal when I set out to meet my biological father, but now that I have him I don’t want to lose him.

Meg and Johnny are waiting in the hall when I go back inside. Samuel has taken my bag out to the car.

‘I’m so sorry about this,’ Meg says sadly, giving me a hug.

‘It’s not your fault.’ I look over her shoulder and see Johnny’s gaze relocate to the floor. ‘And it’s not yours, either,’ I tell him, detaching myself
from Meg. ‘It was bound to happen sooner or later.’ I feel surprisingly brave. I suppose it’s because this doesn’t seem real. Maybe it won’t until the news is well and
truly out there.

‘I’ll call you tomorrow,’ he says.

‘OK.’ I give a tight smile and nod, steeling myself for goodbye.

He pulls me into his arms and I press my cheek against his chest, staring with blurry, teary vision at the black ink trailing out from under his sleeve. I know for certain that I won’t see
him for ages and, if days can create distance, what will weeks do?

‘Be good on your date tonight.’ He breaks away, smiling down at me.

‘I’m always good,’ I reply, cracking a cheeky grin.

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly at Meg.

‘Her father’s daughter,’ Meg says with wry amusement.

I consider that a compliment, but I’m not convinced it was meant as one.

As Samuel and I drive out through the gates, three men with cameras dart in front of the car, snapping away furiously. Even though my window is blacked-out, I sink with alarm into my seat. This
is too weird.

The journey home takes much longer than usual, but eventually Samuel loses the cars tailing us and we’re zooming along the country roads in the direction of Maidenhead.

‘We’re good now, girl. I’ll have you back with Stu in no time,’ Samuel reassures me when I look over my shoulder for about the fifteenth time.

I try to strike up a conversation to help me relax, but he’s a big man of few words. I remember a time in LA when he made me laugh with silly jokes. I don’t feel like laughing
now.

‘Are you going back to LA with the Jeffersons?’ I ask him.

‘That’s the plan.’

‘Do you miss it?’

‘Nah,’ he replies. ‘I go where they go.’

‘Do you have a family, Samuel?’ I find myself asking.

‘Nope. Just me, girl.’

‘I guess that makes it easier to pack up and leave,’ I murmur, looking out of the window.

Samuel doesn’t reply. I wonder if he ever gets lonely, but I don’t ask.

Twenty minutes later we’re driving through Maidenhead town centre – just up the road from where I live.

‘Better be ready to run,’ Samuel warns. ‘I’ll bring your bags. You get yourself inside.’ He calls Stu to let him know we’re nearby and soon afterwards we pull
up in front of my house.

‘Go!’ Samuel commands.

I jump out of the car and run to the front door, which opens a split second before I reach it. A moment later my bags are in the hall and Stu is shutting the door on Samuel’s departing
back. I hear the Mercedes engine as Samuel drives away.

‘Whoa.’ My breath comes out in a rush.

‘Are you OK?’ Stu asks with concern.

‘That was a bit hairy.’ I feel rattled.

‘What do you mean? What happened?’

We sit down and I tell him all about the waiting photographers and the high-speed journey we had, trying to escape them. Stu looks shaken by the time I’ve finished.

‘It’s OK, don’t worry about it,’ I say.

He sighs and runs his hands through his dark hair, messing it up, then takes off his horn-rimmed glasses and slowly polishes them on his T-shirt. He pops them back onto his nose and looks at
me.

‘Well, I guess I’d better get on with dinner,’ he says finally.

‘Don’t forget I’m going out tonight,’ I point out.

‘Jessie—’ he starts.

‘No way. I am not cancelling my date. It’s with Tom Ryder, for crying out loud! And remember you told me to act normally. I’m a pretty good actress, you know.’

‘I
know
you are,’ he states unhappily.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I’m still feeling pretty fraught.

‘Forget it, Jess. You’ll be going out no matter what I say.’ He gets to his feet.

At least he’s got that straight.

‘I’m going to go and get ready,’ I say.

‘What time are you meeting Tom?’ he calls after me.

‘Six o’clock. We’re going to get a bite to eat after the movies.’

‘I’ll drive you to the cinema.’

‘It’s only down the ro—’

‘I’ll drive you,’ he says firmly. ‘And you can call me for a lift.’

‘OK,’ I agree. Don’t sweat the small stuff, I guess.

All’s quiet on our close when Stu and I leave the house later that evening. The jitters I’m feeling about my date join the ones already swirling around my stomach.
I hope no one I know has recognised me from the photos and alerted the press. But if anyone from the papers is watching me they’re well hidden. I resolve to try to enjoy tonight.

‘Hi!’ Lou says brightly when she opens the door. Stu offered to pick her up, too. ‘Bye, Dad!’ she calls.

‘Don’t be late!’ I hear a gruff voice reply from a room off the hall.

She rolls her eyes at me, then pulls the door shut behind her. Lou’s parents are divorced. I know it’s awful of me, but when I found out I couldn’t help feeling a little
relieved that her family wasn’t perfect, either.

‘You look nice,’ she says brightly.

‘Thanks. You too.’ We exchange smiles.

We had a little texting session about an hour ago and have both stuck to our plan to dress in jeans with smart tops and heels. I’m wearing electric-blue slingbacks and a sheer-black
long-sleeved top.

‘Are you nervous?’ she asks quietly. ‘I am.’

I laugh. ‘I am a bit. But you’ve got nothing to be nervous about. Chris really fancies you.’

‘Well, Tom
definitely
fancies
you
.’

‘Can you two keep it down?’ Stu moans from the front seat.

Lou and I giggle, but ride the rest of the way in silence.

We’re almost ten minutes late by the time we arrive, but Tom and Chris are nowhere to be seen. Lou spots them playing on a Formula One simulator. They’re sitting
side by side behind their respective steering wheels, deep in concentration.

‘Boo!’ I shout, poking my face between their heads.

They both jump in fright and then swear at me and nearly crash their cars.

Lou and I crack up laughing while they try to finish the game.

‘Ha!’ Tom says to Chris, holding up one finger in his face to signal he came first. ‘
You
didn’t help,’ he says, pointing said finger at me as he climbs out
of his seat. He raises an eyebrow in amusement and walks a couple of steps towards me. My heart skitters as he stops and stares down at me with his dark-brown eyes. I smirk up at him.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Chris says, shaking his head with mock disgust as he joins us. ‘You can tell someone’s getting his driving licence soon.’

‘I’d better be, after spending half my life practising on my uncle’s farm.’

‘When’s your birthday?’ I ask, as we set off towards the foyer.

‘Wednesday.’

He nods at the confectionery stand. ‘We’ve already got the tickets, but do you want popcorn?’

‘Definitely!’ I reply. ‘I’ll get it.’

‘No, no, it’s alright,’ he says, digging into his back pocket for his wallet. Chris does the same.

‘If you bought the tickets, we’ll buy the popcorn,’ Lou reiterates firmly, and they reluctantly put their wallets away.

‘Shall we share?’ I ask Tom, as we go to stand in line.

‘Sure.’

‘Sweet or salted or both?’

‘Both?’ He screws his nose up.

‘It’s the best, I promise.’

He grins. ‘OK. I trust you.’

His words, although flippant, do nothing to tame my butterflies. We don’t really speak as we approach the front of the queue, but I can hear Lou and Chris chatting and I feel slightly
self-conscious at the lull in our conversation.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Tom rake his hand through his brown hair. His toned arms are the colour of honey, and he’s wearing casual black trousers and an army-green T-shirt with
black graphics on the front.

He is so gorgeous.

We stand off to the side once we’ve got our popcorn and drinks, waiting for Chris and Lou. I can see her laughing and him grinning across at her. They’ve really hit it off. I try to
think of something to say to Tom.

‘So your uncle has—’

‘What did you do—’

We both speak at the same time. He laughs awkwardly and grabs a couple of kernels of popcorn from the large bucket I’m holding. ‘You first.’

‘So your uncle has a farm?’ I ask.

‘Yeah,’ he says between munches. ‘In Suffolk.’

‘Can you honestly drive?’

‘Mmm.’ He nods. ‘He taught me to drive a tractor when I was thirteen. A car’s pretty easy in comparison.’

‘That’s so cool! When are you going to take your test?’

‘In three weeks, but don’t tell anyone,’ he says with a cheeky smile.

‘Why not?’ I didn’t have him down as the shy type.

‘I don’t want the pressure of everyone knowing.’

‘I won’t tell anyone.’ I can’t help but feel pleased that I’m not ‘everyone’.

‘It’s just as well I trust you, isn’t it?’ He grins down at me. ‘And you were right about the popcorn.’

I laugh. ‘Told you! You’ll never have it any other way now.’

We barely notice when Lou and Chris approach.

‘Ready?’ Chris asks.

Tom nods and leads the way in, passing the tickets to the girl on the door.

We file into a row of seats – Chris first, then Lou, then me, and Tom on the aisle. The trailers are already playing and, as we sit down, Lou flashes me a smile in the darkness. I grin
back at her and slide down in my seat. To my left, Tom does the same. I offer him some popcorn and he takes a handful, then leans his head close to mine.

‘What did you do last night?’ he asks, as the trailers continue to screen.

‘Went out for dinner with my dad,’ I tell him. I’m not going to lie if I don’t have to. And I’m hoping to be able to tell him the truth eventually.

He glances at me. ‘Mr Taylor?’

‘No, my real dad. He’s over here at the moment.’

‘Oh, wow. What’s he like?’

‘He’s great,’ I reveal with a shrug. ‘I’ll tell you later,’ I add in a quiet voice, nodding at the big screen. The film’s about to start.

He keeps his head tilted towards mine, and I’m so aware of him sitting right next to me that I find it hard to follow the thriller that we’re watching. His knee jigs up and down
occasionally and I’m distracted by his hand resting on his thigh. His fingers brush against mine as we finish the popcorn and I feel on edge as I put the empty bucket on the floor.

When I sit back in my seat, my arm rubs against his and the contact gives me goosebumps. I instinctively put distance between us, then want to kick myself because what I want is
more
contact, not less. I stare down at his hand and rest my own on my leg, willing him to take it. I can smell his aftershave or deodorant, whatever it is, and it’s distracting. I cast him a
sideways look and he glances back at me, his dark eyes shining from the light of the screen. We return our attention to the film, but the restless winged creatures inside my stomach show no signs
of calming down.

I shift slightly so our forearms are only just touching and I resist the urge to pull away. I’m so aware of the small contact that I’m barely breathing. His arm radiates heat. A
torturously amazing couple of minutes pass, and then he moves. My heart free-falls for a split second until his arm crosses mine and he takes my hand.