I don’t know how long it takes me to explain everything to Frankie, only that she doesn’t interrupt once. She just lets me talk, the two frown lines between her eyes deepening with every new detail I reveal.
When I’ve finished speaking, she doesn’t say anything for ages.
‘They can’t force you to give him up, you know that, don’t you?’ she says finally.
‘Maybe it’s for the best,’ I say automatically.
‘Says who?’ Frankie demands.
I hesitate.
‘Your mum and Stacey?’ she says. ‘Well, of course they’re gonna say that.’
‘But what if they’re right?’ I say. ‘I’m sixteen. I don’t have a clue how to raise a baby, not really. I certainly can’t do it and be an actor at the same time.’ 307
‘Why not? Loads of people juggle kids and careers. Why does it have to be one or the other?’
‘Who would look after him all day?’
‘Couldn’t your mum and Stacey do it?’
‘They have jobs.’
‘I know they do. But from what you’re saying, they’re perfectly willing to shift things around so they can raise him, which means they’re also capable of helping you out.’
‘But that’s the thing. They’re prepared to make all these sacrifices for their own baby. Can I really expect them to give up so much for a baby that’s not even theirs?’
‘It’s not like they’re not related. He’s their grandkid, remember?’
‘But they don’t want a grandson. They want a child of their own.’
‘That might be the case, but the fact is, he isn’t theirs, he’s yours.’
I shake my head. ‘It’s too late. I agreed.’
‘Jojo, you’d literally just given birth. You’d barely had time to get your head around the fact you had a baby full stop, never mind agree to something as huge as giving him away. It wasn’t fair for them to ambush you like that. You had no idea what you were signing up for.’
I frown. It hadn’t felt like an ambush. It had felt well-meaning and loving. That doesn’t make it right, a voice at the back of my head whispers.
‘And all that “let’s keep it between the three of us” stuff,’ Frankie continues. ‘They had no right to say that. No right at all.’
‘It’s too late,’ I say. ‘I’ve had three weeks to pull out of the arrangement and I haven’t. I can’t just take him away from them, not after all this time.’ 308
Stacey has already cleared out the spare room (formerly the office) for Albie’s nursery – painting the walls a soft powder blue and installing a mobile over his cot.
‘Yes, you can!’ Frankie cries. ‘He’s your baby, Jojo, and if you want him, if you want to be his mum, you need to stand up and say so. Now is not the time to be bloody polite.’
‘It’s not that easy. You haven’t seen them with him. They’re besotted. I swear, I’ve never seen Stacey look so happy.’ She’s been floating around with a smile a mile wide on her face ever since we got home from hospital.
Frankie takes a deep breath. ‘Jojo, listen to me. I like Stacey. I’ve always liked Stacey, but you are not responsible for her happiness. Or your mum’s. Especially not at the cost of your own.’
‘But they’d be devastated, Frankie,’ I whisper.
She shrugs. ‘Maybe they will, maybe they won’t, but however they feel, it won’t be your fault, Jojo.’
‘How can it not be? I’m the reason they couldn’t have a baby together in the first place, and now I’m thinking about taking one away from them.’
‘First of all, Albie is not their baby; he never was. Second of all, you are not the reason they couldn’t have a baby.’
‘Yes, I am, Frankie,’ I say. ‘If I hadn’t been such a difficult birth, Mum would have been able to have more kids, and I’m the reason they couldn’t get IVF on the NHS.’
Frankie shakes her head hard. ‘No, Jojo,’ she says fiercely. ‘I’m not having that. You are not to blame for any of this.’
So why can’t I escape the guilt pushing down on me? Whichever way I look at it, Mum’s and Stacey’s happiness is within my control.
‘Is that why you agreed to it?’ Frankie asks, her voice a little 309gentler now. ‘Did you think letting them have Albie would make up for things somehow?’
‘Partly,’ I admit.
Frankie sighs, pushing her fingers through her still damp hair. ‘Jojo, it sucks that your mum and Stacey can’t have kids of their own, but it’s not up to you to put that right.’
I close my eyes. I know she’s talking sense. But where does that leave me? Everything is such a jumble. The only thing I’m entirely sure of right now is my unwavering love for the tiny human being currently nestled against my chest.
‘There’s a reason you ran away, Jojo,’ Frankie says. ‘If you were as hunky-dory with this plan as it sounds like your mum and Stacey have convinced themselves you are, you would be home right now, happily playing big sister and getting on with your life. You certainly wouldn’t be holed up in a nightclub cloakroom in Swindon.’
I hesitate. Because once again she’s right.
‘Does your dad know?’ Frankie asks.
‘No.’
‘Would he be able to help out?’
‘I don’t know. I doubt it. He’s on the road half the time …’
‘But if you told him, he’d step up, surely.’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Ram’s mum, then?’
I don’t understand why she’s trying to help. Two hours ago she stormed out of the hotel room saying she never wanted to see me again. ‘Why are you being so kind to me?’ I ask.
She wrinkles up her nose. ‘What kind of stupid-ass question is that?’
I’m asking because I’m afraid you might hate me. 310
I don’t say this, though – I’m too afraid of her response – so I just shake my head.
We sit in silence for a few moments. On the other side of the wall, the music has stopped and the clubbers are beginning to leave, stumbling past the cloakroom and up the stairs, laughing and singing and shouting.
‘What happened to us?’ Frankie asks quietly as Aisha distributes the last few jackets.
‘What do you mean?’
‘We used to tell each other everything.’
‘I know.’
‘So what went wrong? Why did you stop?’
I hesitate. Because I know exactly why I stopped. And when. On the first of January. ‘I didn’t want to hurt you,’ I say.
‘I’m not just talking about what happened with Ram.’
‘Oh.’
‘There’s the whole thing with the Arts Academy too.’
‘What about it?’ I ask carefully.
‘After the letters came through, we never really talked about it. Not properly. Why?’
‘I – I don’t know.’
‘Did you ever even consider turning your place down?’
For a moment I consider bending the truth, before dismissing the idea. I’ve had enough of lying.
‘No,’ I admit. ‘Not seriously.’
Frankie blinks and I get the feeling she’s surprised by the frankness of my answer.
‘Sorry,’ I add quickly.
‘I asked,’ she says with a shrug.
She’s styling it out, but I know Frankie and I’m not buying her 311nonchalance. ‘It’s not like I didn’t think about the implications,’ I say. ‘Or worry about how you’d feel about me taking up the place. I did. Loads. It’s just that just every time I thought about turning it down, I knew I’d regret it for ever.’ I pause, adjusting my grip on Albie. ‘The truth is, I genuinely didn’t think I’d get in,’ I say. ‘Not in a trillion years.’
I remember coming out of my audition, all those months ago, so sure I’d messed up. When Frankie bounced out of hers an hour or so later, she tried to downplay how well it had clearly gone for my benefit and I’d loved her for it. Never for one minute did I consider the possibility that I was the one who had shone in there.
‘I was so shocked, I called them up to make sure,’ I add.
‘What?’
‘The day after I got my letter, I rang to double-check there hadn’t been some sort of mistake, that they hadn’t mixed me up with someone else.’
‘You’re joking me?’
I shake my head. ‘It wasn’t until I spoke to someone who’d actually been on the audition panel and remembered me that I started to believe I’d got the place fair and square, and even then it took ages to properly sink in. Once it did, I knew there was no way I could turn my back on the place. You’re a star, Frankie. Everyone says so. I know this probably sounds like bullshit but you don’t need the Arts Academy.’
‘And you do?’
‘I think so, yeah. The thing is, they saw something in me, something they could work with. They saw past my nerves and decided I was worth taking a chance on. And that meant everything to me …’ I let my voice trail off. It feels almost perverse talking about 312the Arts Academy when literally everything else in my life is so up in the air.
‘You never said any of this,’ Frankie says quietly.
‘I know.’
‘Why not?’
‘I felt weird about it. Like I’d be rubbing your nose in it or something. The Arts Academy was our thing, this shared dream for such a long time. After I got in, I just didn’t know how to talk about it with you, and you never brought it up so I decided it would be best if I just kept quiet.’
In the months since we’d received our letters, by silent mutual agreement, the Arts Academy had become our very own ‘Voldemort’. I’d hidden my excitement, and in exchange Frankie had hidden her own feelings about it so well I’d conveniently been able to trick myself into believing she couldn’t have cared all that much about it in the first place.
‘Jojo,’ Frankie says.
‘Yeah?’
‘Will you promise me something?’
‘What?’
‘I want you to promise me that you’ll always tell me what’s on your mind, even if it might hurt me or piss me off.’
‘OK,’ I say slowly.
‘I mean it, Jojo. You’ve got to promise me. And I’ll do the same. Starting right now. She takes a deep breath. ‘I’m gutted I didn’t get into the Arts Academy, Jojo, and I don’t know when I’ll stop feeling gutted about it. Maybe never.’
I bite down hard on my lip.
‘And that’s not all. It kills me that you and Ram have this baby together. Because it tethers you to each other for ever and there’s 313no way I can compete with that. And I know it’s stupid to feel that way. Ram and I didn’t work as a couple, and that’s a fact. For fuck’s sake, I was the one who suggested we break up, but just knowing all this doesn’t magically stop me from feeling jealous, from feeling like whatever we had, even though it’s most definitely over, is tarnished somehow. And it doesn’t stop me from wanting him to still want me. It’s idiotic, I know, but it’s how I feel.’
‘It’s not idiotic,’ I say. ‘It makes complete sense. He was a big part of your life for a proper chunk of time. The memory of that doesn’t just disappear.’
‘But it’ll fade. It already has. But thanks to Albie, you and Ram, you have a bond for life now. And I’m not part of that, and it hurts. And I need you to know that I don’t have a clue how I’m going to process all of this. It might not be pretty. In fact, it might get really bloody ugly. But I’m going to promise you that I’ll always be honest going forward.’
Her eyes meet mine. They’re full of tears. All I want to do is hug her and make everything all right. I know I can’t, though, at least not the second bit.
‘OK,’ I say.
‘And I want you do to the same. No more secrets.’
‘I promise.’
‘Pinky promise?’ She holds out her little finger. I lock it with mine. Just like old times.
‘Pinky promise,’ I confirm.