England's Rose

Chapter Eighteen: Jetta

"I can't believe how quickly the last few weeks have gone." Stormer paused in the process of checking in her luggage, a dreamy look on her face. "We've played Top of the Pops, Wembley, been on a TV chat show, in magazines, seen Craig...you name it. It's been so much fun."
"Not all of it." Jetta responded dryly. "I didn't like bein' stalked all that much, love."
"No, that was creepy." Stormer admitted. "But it all worked out okay, didn't it?"
"Yes, I guess it did." Jetta agreed. Then, "Oh my...what the 'ell are they doin' here?"
"What is it?" Stormer cast her companion a confused look. "Stray fans? Eric was supposed to make sure they didn't get in and harass us."
"No, not fans. The opposite." Jetta frowned, dumping her case down on the floor. "An' they've seen me, too."
"Who are we looking at?" Now totally bewildered, Stormer turned, glancing around her, but she could see noone that could have caused such consternation. "C'mon, Jetta...we're meant to go through and meet Pizzazz and Roxy in the departure lounge as soon as we've checked stuff in...what's wrong?"
"Don't you see 'em?" Jetta jerked her head in the direction of the escalator. "Over there."
"That couple? Sure, I see them, but what's the problem?" Stormer was confused.
"The problem is that they're me Ma an' Pa. That's what the problem is." Jetta frowned. "There are still press buzzin' about, I don't want a front page news scandal!"
"Your parents? Oh!" Stormer eyed the couple in more interest. "I didn't realise...you don't look a lot like them."
"No, thank God." Jetta frowned. "Oh, hell...what do they want?"
"Sheila!" Across the airport came an all too familiar raucous cry, and Jetta winced.
"Sheila! Wait a moment, love, we want to speak to you."
"That's why I 'ate me name, or one reason." Jetta murmured dryly. "She squawks it out like I'm a lost dog or somethin'."
Despite herself, Stormer laughed.
"Aw come on, Jetta, don't be so hard on her. She's come to see you, after all." She reproached.
"Like heck she has." Jetta muttered. She raised her voice as her parents reached her. "All right, what do you want now?"
"I want a word, young lady, about a letter I received from your brother just yesterday mornin'." Flo sounded angry. "I read in the paper you girls were over here - and not a moment spent to come visit your poor parents, neither - an' I thought I'd come see you today, when you couldn't escape me, an' ask what the meaning of this is."
She thrust the letter into her daughter's hand. Jetta skimmed over the contents.
"I don't see what business it is of yours." she said quietly.
"He's my son. You're my daughter." Flo responded curtly.
"Oh really? You finally realised that, did you?" Jetta's tones were laced with bitterness. "After years of tellin' me what a nusiance I was, an' that I was a mistake. Could it be something to do with the fact that suddenly I 'ave a good income and a high profile job, huh?"
"Steady on, love. We're 'ere about Jeremy." Bertie took a hand.
"I don't give too hoots about Jeremy." Jetta screwed the letter up into a ball, tossing it in her parents' direction. "I don't care if he's in 'ot water with the prison authorities, if he's gonna be tried for conspiracy or if he's gonna lose priveleges. He deserves it."
"Your own brother!"
"He's no brother of mine." Jetta responded coldly. "Just like I'm no daughter of yours. You didn't want me when I was growing up...and I don't want you now. I didn't come to see you, because I knew all you'd be would be grasping at me to pay your gamblin' debts and make your fortunes for you. It ain't gonna happen like that."
"No, Dad. That's it." Jetta held up her hands. "You worry about Jeremy, okay? You wanted 'im, at least...I'm sure he'll be glad of your support. Now, if you don't mind, I 'ave a flight to catch."
"Oh, very convenient." Flo snapped. "What a snob you've become, Sheila, snubbing your poor parents like that."
"It's what you deserve." Jetta shrugged. "Gramps was the only one who had faith in me, God rest 'is soul. I ain't got time for any of the rest of you, so leave me alone, will ya? I don't need your hassle."
"Sheila Rose Burns!" Flo began, but Jetta interrupted her.
"No, Mum." She responded, shaking her head. "It ain't Sheila now. It's Jetta. Remember it."
She turned to the bemused and uncomfortable looking Stormer, who had watched the whole exchange in wide-eyed amazement. "C'mon, Stormer. Let's get out of 'ere."
"I'm coming." Stormer glanced nervously at the Burns', then nodded, following her companion's lead, and leaving Jetta's parents staring after them.
Once they were far away from the check-in point, Stormer ventured a remark.
"Now I understand." she said quietly. "I'm sorry, Jetta...you deserve better than that."
Jetta looked startled, then she shook her head.
"We get what we're given." she said with a shrug. "But bein' a Misfit taught me somethin', you know. You can't choose who you are, or who your family is. But you can damn well choose what you do with your life...an' I did. In the end it worked out the right way."
"I guess so." Stormer considered this carefully.
"Don't mention that little encounter to the others, will you?" Jetta asked. "I don't need anyone gettin' any reminders of Wissex."
"I promise." Stormer smiled. "Best left alone, if you ask me."
"Definitely." Jetta nodded her head. She grinned. "Come on. We got a plane to catch."

Chapter One: Life in London
Chapter Two: The Saxophone
Chapter Three: A Friend In Need
Chapter Four: Never Again...

Chapter Five: Sheila's Decision
Chapter Six: A Band In Crisis
Chapter Seven: First Night
Chapter Eight: Making It Happen

Chapter Nine: The Misfits In London
Chapter Ten: On Every Screen...
Chapter Eleven: A Musical Reunion
Chapter Twelve: Jealousy
Chapter Thirteen: An Old Acquaintance
Chapter Fourteen: Doing London
Chapter Fifteen: Sabotage!
Chapter Sixteen: The Final Straw
Chapter Seventeen: Opening Night
Chapter Eighteen: Jetta

(The Misfits and Holograms and other animated Jem characters are copyrighted to Hasbro Inc. All characters who do not appear in Jem episodes are my own creation. This story is copyrighted to E.A Woolley (2001)