Page 137 of Jessica Beam is a Hot Mess
‘I’ve been staying with Grandma Beam. I know now that you didn’t want me to, and after reading your diaries last night, I understand why you never talked about her or Granddad Jack. But I found something out and I thought you should know . . .’
The tears start to fall again, and this time I don’t try to stop them – I’m getting pretty used to them now.
‘Grandma told me that Thomas – my dad − came back for you. He didn’t take that money. Four days after you left, he returned and tried to give it back. Granddad Jack sent him away and told him you were living with his family in America. Otherwise I’m pretty sure he would have found you. And then, who knows how things would have turned out.
‘I’m not sure yet, but I thought that maybe, at some point in the future, I might try to find him. Would you mind that? I mean, it seems that he’s not exactly the shithead we thought he was, and, well, I feel like maybe he should know that I exist. I don’t know . . .
‘Mum, you always told me that love ruins you. That relationships are dangerous, that I mustn’t open myself up to hurt. And I’ve carried that with me for my whole life. I’ve been so frightened of ending up like you that I’ve always tried not to care about anything or anyone. But then I moved in with Grandma, and I know she’s crazy, but I started to care about her. And Peach, her assistant, who’s also a bit nuts, well, I care about her too.
‘And then I met a man. Someone that makes me feel the way I’m guessing Thomas made you feel. Like there was something to look forward to. Someone who I really, really just wanted toknow. I fought against it, I told myself it wasn’t possible, because I didn’t want to end up like you. But it all went wrong and I feel properly like crap anyway. But I also feel something else too. I feel alive. Not because of booze, or parties, or sex, which − don’t get me wrong − are still on the top of my list of favourite things, but because I allowed myself to feel so many good things about another person. And he, even if just for a little while, felt that way about me too.
‘So anyway, I just wanted to come here to tell you that Thomas loved you. I think if you’d known that, things might have been different. And I hope that wherever you are now, you feel better.
‘I love you, Mum. And I miss you. I miss you fucking loads. But it’s time for me to live by my own rules. Love might end up breaking me. But I need the chance to find that out for myself, in my own way.
‘Well, that’s it, I guess. It was . . . It was really nice to talk to you, Mum. I won’t leave it so long the next time.’
I touch the pale grey marble one more time, rubbing the tips of my fingers against the indentation of Mum’s name carved into the stone. Then the sky rumbles and I jump slightly as it starts to piss it down for the first time since this summer heatwave began. As the heavy raindrops soak through my T-shirt and pyjamas, my breathing starts to calm, and then, all at once, I feel something inside me slot back into place.
I think it might be my heart.
* * *
On the way home, I gaze out of the window at the other cars driving alongside us and feel calmer, lighter than I have done in a very long time. The ring of Jamie’s phone brings me out of my dozy trance. He flips a switch so that the phone call goes through to his headphones.
‘Hello,’ I hear him say. His eyes flick to me for a moment. Then he says, ‘Oh, nothing . . . just going for a drive . . . no-one . . . I don’t know when. Um . . . yeah, maybe. I’ll call you soon. Bye.’
He ends the call. The tops of his ears have turned pink.
‘Who was that?’ I ask.
‘Oh, just, um, Kiko,’ he shrugs casually.
Kiko? He just totally palmed her off.
‘I can’t wait to meet her,’ I say lightly.
He gives me a look. ‘Really?’
I nod. ‘Really. I . . . I want you and me to be friends.’
He chews his lip for a moment. ‘Friends . . . with benefits?’
I smile, despite myself. ‘No. I meant what I said the other week. And . . . well, I kind of have feelings for someone else. Not that anything’s going to come of that, but . . . I want to be honest with you, and the truth is, I really like hanging out with you. And I’d really like it if we can be friends. Proper friends.’
He sighs long and low. And then he coughs: ‘Does that mean we’re going to have to brush each other’s hair and talk about, um, Jared Leto and stuff?’
‘Yes. If it were 1998 . . . Actually, those sound like awesome friend activities in 2014, too. So yes. We will have to do those things.’
‘Well, that’s fine by me, Jess,’ Jamie says, pulling into the inside lane and speeding up. ‘To be honest, I never really fancied you anyway.’
I can’t help but laugh.
‘Thanks, Jamie.’ I grin, putting my hand on top of his and giving it a squeeze.
And then, when he starts up with a rousing chorus of Metallica’s ‘Enter Sandman’ , I join in.
