The Accidental Life of Jessie Jefferson by Paige Toon Read Free Book Online Page B

she had seemed so full of confidence, even more than usual. She came to tell me that she was pregnant, that the baby was Johnny’s. I asked if she was sure, and she said without a doubt, there hadn’t been anyone else. She didn’t know what to do, whether to tell him, whether to keep the baby.’
    She thought about having me terminated?
    ‘She didn’t think about it for long.’ Stuart continues hastily, flashing me a sympathetic smile. ‘Her parents went absolutely ballistic went they found out – that’s partly why she came to me.’
    ‘Did they know the baby was Johnny’s?’
    ‘No. Your mum never told them.’
    ‘Why not?’
    ‘Stories about Johnny’s women started hitting the headlines.’
    ‘Oh.’
    ‘She was devastated,’ he says sadly. ‘She hadn’t realised that she was one of many. She thought she was special. She was, but only to me.’
    ‘Oh my God.’ I try to let all of this sink in. ‘But why didn’t she ever tell me the truth?’
    ‘She didn’t want to lose you.’
    ‘What do you mean? She wouldn’t have lost me!’
    ‘She thought that you’d want to get in touch with Johnny. Maybe choose his life over hers.’
    ‘But that’s crazy. I wouldn’t have left her!’
    ‘Try to see it from her side. Look around you.’ He pauses, so I do. I take in the tiny living room with its threadbare carpet and the faded floral hand-me-down sofas – it hurts to acknowledge the left-hand corner which was always her favourite place to sit, with her knees up and her feet tucked underneath her. I stare at the scratched wooden coffee table that she picked up from a charity shop and occasionally bothered to polish, and the curtains that are hanging off-kilter from their hooks, ever since I accidentally grabbed hold of one to steady myself days before she died. We’ve never lived in a palace. We’ve never had a fortune. Not, it seems, like my biological father.
    ‘But he might have helped us,’ I say, shaking my head. ‘We might not have had to live like this.’
    ‘She didn’t want to ask for his help,’ he says in a tone that implies I should know this. And he’s right. Mum was stubborn. She never asked anyone for help, not even her parents, my grandparents, who have never played a big part in my life. Mum never forgave them for that, and now my granddad is dead and gran is in a home with senile dementia. ‘She did think about telling you, but when you were older,’ Stu reveals.
    Em’s comment from a couple of days ago flashes in my mind.
    ‘He lived nearby for a while, didn’t he?’ My real dad, a twenty-minute drive away and I never knew.
    Stu nods and stares sadly at his hands. ‘She was a mess when he moved back.’
    ‘Was she?’
    He nods, and I can see his eyes shining.
    ‘I think she still had feelings for him.’
    He coughs suddenly, almost with embarrassment. I’m not sure he meant to reveal that. ‘Anyway, I always thought you deserved to know the truth.’
    ‘Did you?’ I ask in a small voice.
    He looks up at me and slowly nods.
    ‘Thank you,’ I say.
    He swallows. ‘So what do you want to do now?’
    ‘What do you mean?’ I ask.
    ‘Do you . . . do you want me to contact him for you?’
    I feel faint. Ten minutes ago I didn’t think I’d ever know who my real dad was. Now Stu’s offering to help me get in touch with him. ‘You would do that?’
    ‘Yes.’
    A tiny little voice inside asks, does he want to get rid of me? But I don’t want to know the answer to that question. Not right now. Right now I want to meet my real dad. Whatever the consequences.

Chapter 6
    ‘We have the same hands.’
    I look down at our fingers splayed out, our palms pressed together as we lie side-by-side on my single bed. She’s right: we do have the same hands. She links her fingers through mine and squeezes, then turns and presses a kiss to my temple.
    ‘I like this song,’ she says, as ‘Jump Into The Fog’ by the Wombats comes on.
    ‘It’s cool,’ I agree, gently