Johnny Be Good (27 page)

He nods, glumly. Finally he looks at me. ‘He won’t change, you know.’

I reach over and smooth my plasters down.

‘He won’t, Meg.’

‘Okay, okay!’ I snap.

He falls silent.

‘You won’t put it in the book, will you?’ I ask, suddenly fretful.

‘Of course not!’ he admonishes me.

I take a deep breath then relax a little. ‘Good. Shall we watch some TV?’

‘Sure.’ He glances at his watch. It must be after midnight, and he’s probably knackered, but I appreciate the company. I know I won’t be able to sleep until Johnny comes home.

Christian tries to stifle his yawns for going on two hours until finally we hear the door open. We both sit up, on full alert.

We hear the girls before we see them. Johnny appears around the corner, walking backwards as though enticing his prey into his lair. Two girls follow him, giggling and holding hands. I recognise the girl in the bikini–she’s had the decency to put some more clothes on–and her ‘friend’ is slim and blonde and also very pretty.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’

I jump at the sound of Christian’s fury. So does Johnny. He spins around and spies us on the sofa together. His initial shock swiftly changes to nonchalance.

‘What does it look like?’

The girls glance at each other apprehensively.

Christian speaks. ‘It looks like you’re about to have a threesome and force your brilliant PA to quit her job.’

Johnny looks taken aback. He stares at me. ‘Did you tell him?’

Before I can answer, Christian speaks again. ‘Mate, I found her in a right state. She was trying to walk home. She rushed out of the joint after seeing you getting up close and personal with, I presume, one of these two.’ He gives the girls a dirty look. ‘She didn’t have to tell me. I mean, Jesus, Johnny, didn’t you learn your lesson after you fucked Paola?’

My stomach lurches.

‘Sorry, Meg,’ Christian says. ‘But you should know what he’s capable of.’

‘Shut the fuck up, Christian,’ Johnny warns, malevolently.

‘No, I will not. She was a nice girl,’ he says to me. ‘He could have had something special with her, but the second he started to fall for her, he screwed her over. Just like he’s doing to you, now.’

‘Shut up!’ Johnny says, angrily, storming over to the sofa and pointing at Christian.

The girls are now looking very uneasy.

‘Shall we go?’ one of them asks.

‘Yes!’ Christian shouts.

‘No!’ Johnny shouts at the same time.

They shift from foot to foot. Clearly the thrill has gone out of their threesome.

Johnny is breathing hard and fast. He’s still pointing at Christian. ‘If you have a problem with the way I do things around here, you can fuck off home.’

‘With the way you do things around here? Have you heard yourself, you arrogant prick? You know what, maybe I will fuck off home. And maybe I’ll take Meg with me.’

Johnny laughs, hollowly. ‘Fine. Go.’

He turns and puts his arms around both the girls and guides them up the stairs.

As soon as Johnny’s door has closed behind them, Christian comes over and kneels in front of me. I’m shaking.

‘Are you okay?’ he asks.

‘I don’t feel very well,’ I tell him in a small voice.

‘Come here.’ He tries to put his arms around me, to comfort me, but I pull away. I don’t want to be touched.

‘Is it true? Is that what happened with Paola?’ I ask.

He nods, grimly.

‘He told me he’s never fallen for anyone,’ I say.

‘That’s probably the truth. He fucks them over before it gets that far.’

‘Is that what he’s doing with me, do you think?’ My tone is hopeful. I
want
him to be falling for me. It doesn’t really sink in that I’m probably going to lose him over it.

‘I don’t know.’ He pauses, then says, ‘Meg, why don’t you come back with me? To the UK?’

‘I don’t
want
to go back to the UK!’ I cry.

‘Okay!’ he says, surprised.

I sniff. ‘You’re not really going to leave, are you?’

He considers my question for a moment before answering. ‘Yes. I am. I’ll catch a flight tomorrow.’

‘No! Don’t go!’

‘I will. It will teach him a lesson. Anyway, I’ve enough material now. I just have to finish writing it up.’

‘You won’t write anything about this, will you?’ I ask, anxiously.

‘Meg, I’ve already told you I won’t.’

I hear muffled noises coming from Johnny’s bedroom and remember what’s going on in there. I’d forgotten for a moment.

Christian looks at me with concern. ‘You’re going to get hurt so badly if you stay.’

‘I’m already hurt, Christian,’ I reply. ‘But this–’ I motion upstairs–‘this is just sex. It’s going to take a hell of a lot more than this to push me away.’

He stands up and points the remote control at the TV, switching it off. Then he turns to me and says, sadly, ‘I knew you were going to say that.’

I take Christian to the airport the next day, just to get out of the house. We don’t talk about last night. In fact, we say very little. When I return, I find Johnny sitting at the outdoor table by the pool, staring down at the view.

He jumps when he sees me. ‘I thought you’d left,’ he says in a monotone voice. I can’t read his expression.

‘What, and taken your Porsche with me?’ I laugh, oddly amused.

He studies my face, before asking, ‘Where’s Christian?’

‘Oh,
he’s
left,’ I say, flippantly. ‘But I’m still here.’ I sit down opposite him and put my sunglasses on top of my head. ‘Good night last night?’

‘Are you alright, Meg?’ He looks at me, cagily.

‘Not really.’ My voice is cheery. ‘But I’ll get over it. Now, do you want some lunch? I’m starving!’

‘No…Thanks…’ He’s looking at me like I’ve grown little green horns and am currently head-butting the table.

‘Okay, then.’ I get up and go indoors.

I carry on this pretence of not actually giving a shit for a few days, going about my business as though I’d never actually slept with a rock star. Finally, on Wednesday, Johnny cracks.

‘Meg, will you stop this? It’s driving me nuts.’

He’s come into the office to check what time he’s supposed to be meeting with his record company.

‘What’s driving you nuts?’ I look up at him, calmly.

‘This.’ He throws his hands in the air. ‘You. Stop acting like nothing’s happened.’

‘What do you want me to do, Johnny? Cry? Scream? Quit?’ I stress the last word.

‘No. I don’t know,’ he says, frustrated. ‘I’ve gotta go. See you later.’

He walks out of the room and I carry on with my work, feeling strangely elated.

Later that day he comes back into the office.

‘Meeting go okay?’ I ask.

‘Yeah.’ I can see he’s distracted. ‘What did Christian say to you?’ he asks, furrowing his brow.

‘What do you mean?’

‘You know what I mean.’

My laugh is brittle. ‘I don’t actually. You’ll have to spell it out.’

‘Forget it!’ He storms out of the room in a huff.

I’m quite enjoying this.

The next day he’s back in the office again.

‘Do you have that Kitty chick’s number?’

My heart skips a beat. I try not to let it show. ‘Sure.’

I find it on my phone and scribble it down on the back of a business card. When I don’t ask why he wants it, he divulges the information himself.

‘She’s pretty hot. Thought I might take her to that showcase tonight.’

You arsehole! I want to scream. ‘She’s already going.’ I call his bluff. ‘With her boyfriend,’ I add, hoping he won’t see through me.

He looks down at the number. ‘Shame,’ he says, wandering towards the door.

I carry on tapping away at my keyboard, trying not to let my anger overcome me.

‘For fuck’s sake,’ he exclaims, turning around and leaning on the doorframe. He flicks the business card in the bin.

‘What’s wrong?’ I ask.

He runs his hands through his hair and stares at me, before dejectedly slumping down in the black Eames chair beside my desk.

I swivel my chair around to face him. He leans forward and rests his forearms on his thighs, staring up at me.

‘I heard from my dad last week,’ he says.

‘
What?
’ Now he’s got his reaction. ‘I thought your dad was dead?’

‘No,’ he says. ‘He lives in Essex.’

I cross my legs and fold my arms across my chest. ‘What did he say?’

Johnny shrugs and looks down. I wait, patiently. I’m not playing this game. If he wants to tell me, he can tell me.

He looks edgy. ‘He’s found a woman. Wants to get married.’

‘Oh, right,’ I say, intrigued.

‘Wants more money,’ he adds, a touch bitterly.

‘Hmm…Are you going to give it to him?’

‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Not like I can’t spare it, is it?’

I nod. ‘True. Does he ask for money a lot?’

He leans back in his seat and puts one foot up on his other knee. ‘He doesn’t have to. He’s got a monthly allowance. Got his house.’

‘Which you bought for him?’

‘Yep.’

Considering his dad is supposed to be a no-good so-and-so, I would have thought Johnny would want nothing to do with him.

‘You seem surprised,’ he says.

‘I am surprised,’ I tell him.

‘Why?’

I take a deep breath. ‘I can’t work you out, Johnny Jefferson. You’re so…transient.’

He raises one eyebrow at me. ‘I’ve never been called that before.’

I say nothing, steadily meeting his gaze.

He reaches over and strokes my leg. I flinch.

‘Don’t do that,’ I warn him.

He looks at me, forlornly. ‘I’m sorry, Meg.’

Now I’m lost for words.

‘Christian was right, you know,’ he continues.

‘Right about what?’ I ask, warily.

He leans in again and takes my hand. I’m so stunned about his apology that I let him.

‘I don’t want you to leave.’ Adrenalin pumps through my veins. ‘Come here.’ He tries to pull me to him, but I shake my hand free.

‘No, Johnny. No!’

He strokes my leg again, strokes my arm, strokes my cheek.

‘Stop it,’ I say, with less ferocity.

‘I need you,’ he says. His eyes are fixated on my lips.

I hold my breath, unable to resist any longer as he leans in to kiss me.

‘Come upstairs,’ he says, pulling me to my feet.

Afterwards, as I lie in his arms, and he gently runs his rough fingers across my naked back, I try not to think of what went on in this bed just a few days ago. I prop myself up on my elbows and smile at him.

I care about you, Johnny Jefferson. However hard you make it for me.

‘I need you too, you know,’ I tell him.

Something comes over his face. It’s like a mask.

‘What’s wrong?’ I frown at him.

‘Nothing.’ He looks annoyed. ‘I should probably get ready,’ he says, climbing out of bed.

‘Ready for what?’ I’m confused.

‘The showcase?’

‘Oh. Are you still going?’

‘Of course.’ He walks towards his en-suite. ‘Don’t bother with Davey. I’ll take the bike.’

I don’t bother asking if he’ll also take me. I know that look. I’m being pushed away again and the realisation fills me with grief.

I don’t hear him come home that night. Full of worry, I mention it to Samuel.

‘He must be in bed,’ he says. ‘He rocked up at about two o’clock in the morning.’

‘Did he?’ I’m amazed.

He was quiet when he returned, then. Maybe it will be alright after all. I go into the office and carry on with my work. At about
eleven o’clock, I hear footsteps outside the office, heading towards the kitchen.

There he is, I think to myself. When he doesn’t come to see me after a few minutes, I decide to go and find him.

As I approach the kitchen, everything starts to feel like it’s moving in slow motion. Johnny is not in the kitchen, but a girl is. And I recognise her voice instantly.

I arrive at the door to see Rosa put two mugs of coffee on the table.

‘Thanks,’ Lola says, picking up both mugs and turning to see me. She starts, spilling a little coffee. She’s wearing one of Johnny’s shirts. It comes down to her thighs.

‘Meg!’ She laughs. ‘I didn’t see you there. Sorry, Rosa,’ she apologises, as Rosa gets to her knees with a sponge.

‘No harm done,’ Rosa says.

Lola grins at me, sheepishly. ‘How are you? You didn’t make the showcase last night?’

‘No,’ I say, shortly.

‘Don’t worry, you didn’t miss much.’ She smiles.

I don’t smile back.

‘Well, okay, then,’ she says, going to move past me with the coffees. ‘I’m just going to take this up to him.’

I step aside for her.

‘Do you want me to call a car for you?’ I finally find my voice. I want her out of here.

‘No, thanks,’ she replies, gratefully. ‘Johnny said he’d give me a ride.
If
I can stomach it again.’ She rolls her eyes at me good-naturedly and starts to walk towards the stairs. ‘Jeez, he rides that bike fast, doesn’t he?’ She’s not really expecting an answer. ‘Didn’t matter when I’d had a few, but today it could be a different story.
Anyway, see you later,’ she calls over her shoulder, before momentarily turning her lips down when I don’t respond. I watch her reach the top of the stairs and try to open Johnny’s bedroom door with her hands full. A second later the door opens. I hear Johnny chuckle as she goes inside.

I glance behind to see Rosa quietly watching me. I rush into the office and close the door.

Not her. Anyone but her. She’s his perfect match. She’s so cool, so talented. She doesn’t take any crap from him. He respects her.

I sit there in a daze for hours, unable to work. At three o’clock, there’s a knock on the door. I look up as it opens; it’s Rosa.

‘I’ve got to head off early today,’ she says.

I nod, blankly.

‘Are you okay, honey?’ Her tone is sympathetic.

I don’t speak.

She comes into the room and closes the door behind her. I watch as she makes her way to my desk.

‘Come here.’ She motions for me to get up. I do as she says and she engulfs me in a warm, cuddly hug.

Suddenly I miss my mum. I miss Bess. I miss everyone and everything about my home, my real home. I try to stifle the tears, but they come anyway.

‘There, there,’ she says. ‘It’s okay.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I sob.

‘Don’t you say sorry to me!’ she admonishes me.

She doesn’t tell me it’s my own fault. She doesn’t tell me that she warned me. She would have witnessed this exact same scenario with Paola, and she saw it coming a mile off, but she lets me cry, and she does her best to comfort me. Eventually, she breaks away.

‘I do have to go, honey. It’s my daughter’s school play tonight.’

‘Of course.’ I try to smile at her. ‘Wish her good luck from me.’

‘I will.’

I don’t see Johnny that night. I’m sure he’s stayed at Lola’s, and it kills me to sit in that big, lonely house on a Friday night and imagine what my friends are getting up to in London.

The next day I hear him come home, but I stay up in my room for hours, thinking. Eventually I go downstairs.

I look out of the glass, the city of LA sprawled out before me in the hazy afternoon sunshine. But I can’t appreciate the view now. Johnny is sitting on one of the sunloungers. His dirty blond hair is partly obscuring his face, but I can see the lit cigarette dangling from his mouth, the bottle of whisky by his side. He’s playing his guitar, and I watch as the muscles in his tattooed arms flex with the movement. I feel like there are invisible strings coming out of my stomach, close to my heart. They are attached to him. Wherever he is, I am pulled. I try to cut the strings, but they reconnect themselves to him. Oh God, it hurts so much.

I need to get out of here.

Tears prick my eyes as I walk determinedly into the office. I call Johnny’s travel agent and book myself a ticket on the next available flight to London. Then I ring Davey and ask him to collect me at three. My flight isn’t until this evening, but I’ll wait at the airport. Anything is better than waiting here. And I know there’s a risk of changing my mind if I stay for much longer.

I collect my suitcase from the store cupboard in the laundry and carry it up the stairs. I pull my clothes out of the wardrobes, barely bothering to fold them before laying them in the case. My eye catches the toy sheep that Johnny bought me in the Dales. It sits on a shelf in the open wardrobe, watching me as I pack up my belongings. When my case is full, I stand and stare at the toy.

No, I decide, and bend down to zip up my case. It can stay where it is. I imagine Johnny walking into my room and opening the wardrobe, his heart sinking as he realises I’ve gone.

The truth is, Rosa or Sandy the maid will probably find it and toss it in the bin, but I like my scenario best.

I scribble out a short note for Rosa, struggling to think of what to say.

I leave it in the kitchen, behind the toaster. Johnny won’t see it there, but Rosa is sure to on Monday.

Suitcase by my side, I glance out of the window. Johnny is no longer on the sunlounger. I look around, but I can’t see him. Maybe it’s for the best.

The buzzer goes. It’s time.

As Davey drives me through the gates, a familiar green truck pulls up.

Santiago! I forgot about Santiago.

‘Hold on!’ I tell Davey, and jump out of the car.

‘Hey, Meg,’ Santiago says.

‘Santiago, I’m leaving.’

‘Leaving? Why?’ he asks, shocked.

‘It just hasn’t worked out,’ I tell him.

‘Man, I’m so sorry. Who am I going to chat to on Saturdays, now?’

‘You’ll just have to get on with your work instead.’ I grin and he grins back at me.

I grab a pen from his dashboard and scribble my Hotmail address on a piece of old cardboard. His truck is full of junk food wrappers. ‘Email me!’ I hand him the scrap.

‘I don’t have an email address,’ he says, regretfully, looking down at it.

‘No way?’

He shrugs.

I laugh. ‘They are free, you know?’

‘Okay, I’ll get one,’ he says, but instinct tells me we won’t stay in touch.

Suddenly I hear a roar come from behind the gates. I can barely breathe as Johnny appears on his bike, black metal glinting in the bright sunlight.

‘See ya round.’ Santiago raises one eyebrow at me, then glances at Johnny, before driving through the open gates.

Johnny flips his visor up. ‘Where are you going?’

‘I’m leaving, Johnny.’ I try to keep my voice steady.

‘What, just like that?’

‘Just like that.’

We stare at each other for a moment, neither of us speaking. I’m vaguely aware of Davey waiting in the car behind me.

Johnny nods, curtly. ‘Okay, then.’

He flips down his visor and revs up the engine, wheel spinning off down the road, leaving a trail of dust in his wake.