Part One Hundred And Thirty Three
Jo arrived at George's soon after eight that evening, John dropping her off on his way to some judge's convention that mere QC's weren't permitted to attend. He said he'd pick her up later so that she could drink. A tennis match was going on in Jo's head, of whether she should float her suggestion with George, or whether she shouldn't. But before this decision was made, Jo knew that she had to have answers to a few questions. The possible answers she might receive were almost more frightening than how George might react to what she had to say. They sat and talked for a while, listening to some fairly hypnotic music that couldn't fail to relax even the most tense of souls. It was odd, George thought wryly, how two women who now knew so much about each other, could talk for almost an hour about nothing remotely important, always avoiding the issues that had so recently occupied both their minds. At one point, Jo looked at George with a little twinkle in her eye and said,
"That's the longest I've ever seen you make a drink last." George found that she couldn't quite meet Jo's eyes.
"I haven't got round to eating yet today and too much alcohol on an empty stomach is never a good idea." Jo rolled her eyes.
"Then do it," She said gently but firmly. She didn't take her unwavering gaze away from George until she finally shrugged, stood up and moved towards the kitchen. Looking back over her shoulder, George asked,
"Are you hungry?" Not wanting to be the only one eating.
"I ate before I came out," Replied Jo, wondering how long George would have put this off if Jo hadn't brought it up. George returned in a few minutes with a plate of cheese and crackers. Jo made absolutely no comment on what George was eating, knowing that as long as she was, drawing attention to it wasn't necessary.
"So," Said George, taking a mouthful of cheese, "Tell me why you've been looking so pensive ever since you got here." Thinking that she'd actually hidden it quite well, Jo's eyes widened. "You're not the only one who has the capacity to be vaguely observant on occasions, you know," George said dryly. Jo took a swig of her whisky to give her courage.
"It's about John," She said, putting the glass back on the table. George just waited. "But before I tell you about the possible solution to some of our problems, yours, mine and his, I need answers to a couple of questions."
"Go on," Said George, thoroughly intrigued but still on her guard.
"I need to know how you feel about John." George recoiled as if she'd been slapped. Putting the plate of cheese down on the coffee table, because she suddenly didn't feel like eating it, George lit a cigarette.
"Why is it so imperative for you to know?" She asked guardedly.
"Because I need to know what level of threat your feelings for John might pose." George looked relieved.
"Well, you can stop worrying," She said. "I might still love John," She added, now knowing that she could be totally open with Jo. "But he will never feel the same about me again. I've hurt him too much." Jo looked unconvinced. "Oh, he might say he does," Went on George, "He might even think he does, but he couldn't. What happened with Charlie hurt him more than he will ever admit to anyone. How could he, how could anyone, love me after I'd put them through something like that. Jo, even if John thinks he does still have anything but negative feelings for me, it won't get him anywhere. We've both hurt each other too much to even consider living together or having any kind of a relationship again. You can feel utterly safe on that score, I promise."
"I thought you didn't do promises," Said Jo, a small smile turning up the corners of her mouth. But George remained very serious.
"That's one promise I know I can keep," She replied. "Jo, I'm not going through this again. Though it feels odd to say it, I value our friendship far more than I do a quick fix from John, and I never thought I'd even come close to saying something like that." Jo stared at her, utterly speechless. Never would she have expected to hear something like this from George. Yes, Jo had known that they were getting closer, they were becoming friends of a sort. You don't exchange the type of deeply held confidences that they had and not become friends, but it still stunned her to hear George say it. She was incredibly touched by such a level of sentiment coming from someone whom she'd thought of for years as not having a remotely soft bone in her body.
"Well," Said Jo, trying to steady her voice, "Keeping that in mind, there's something else I need to ask you." George had observed Jo's slight shock at what she'd said, and knew that in barely commenting on it she was trying to bring the conversation back on to safer ground. George simply raised an eyebrow. "George, this is quite difficult," Jo added, looking more uncomfortable by the minute.
"I'm listening," George replied, wondering what on earth was coming.
"When you slept with John, recently I mean, I know he said something to you about me, something that I might not want to know. What was it?" George held her cigarette suspended in mid air, staring at Jo because she could all too easily remember John's words of that night. He'd said, "Jo's not quite as adventurous as you." Just before the ash fell from the end of her cigarette, she reached forward and stubbed it out in the ashtray. "What was it, George?" Jo persisted. "Did he tell you how uninteresting in bed I am?"
"No, of course not," Said George, with a little too much vehemence. Jo rolled her eyes.
"George, you're an even more transparent liar than my youngest son," She said, knowing that whatever it was, she needed to know. Now it was George's turn to look uncomfortable.
"I think his words were, Jo's not quite as adventurous as you. Why, do you think that's why he strays?"
"I'd say it was pretty obvious, wouldn't you?" Jo replied, the hurt at John's words clearly showing in her face.
"Jo, that's got absolutely nothing to do with it," Said George with total certainty.
"Hasn't it?" Asked Jo in disgust.
"No, not in the slightest. Jo, just because I'll try almost anything at least once, does not, I repeat not make you uninteresting in bed. If anything, it makes me a whore. John really isn't that fickle. You might think he is sometimes, and you'd probably have every reason too, but John doesn't work like that." George stood up and moved to perch on the arm of Jo's chair. Taking one of Jo's hands that had been folded in her lap, she could feel the chill from its contact with the ice-filled whisky glass. "John loves you, Jo, more than he's ever loved anyone."
"So why is it so difficult for him to be even remotely faithful?" Jo asked, her tone half-angry, half-pleading.
"I don't know," Said George wearily. "I think he needs at least the pretence of an affair, or a fling, or an occasional away fixture to remind himself why he loves the one woman he's supposed to be with. You know as well as I do that it mostly stems from feeling very insecure. I think part of him is so convinced that whoever he's with will one day leave him, that he has to make the pretence of not needing them so much. After Charlie, he thought I didn't love him, so he played away to feel appreciated again."
"But I do love him," Jo said emphatically. "I wouldn't put up with him the way I do if I didn't."
"I know," Said George, gently chafing away the coldness from Jo's hand. "And John knows that too, but because he didn't have a fallback when his mother died, and therefore left him, I think he feels that he has to have some way of coping if ever you were to leave him. I don't know that for certain, I'm just taking a shot in the dark."
"Which makes what I have to suggest, all the more reasonable," Said Jo, turning her head slightly to look in to George's face. "Will you help me keep him on the straight and narrow?" George looked nonplussed.
"I don't understand," She said. "After all, I was the one who failed to keep him on the straight and narrow in the first place."
"George, I think he needs both of us," Said Jo carefully. George let go of Jo's hand as if it had burnt her. She stood up and began pacing back and forth between the piano and the sofa.
"Jo," She said firmly. "I can't let you do that."
"Why?" Asked Jo, "It's the obvious solution to a problem. We both love John, you've said it yourself, and I don't think he'll ever feel secure enough to settle with just one woman. George, one woman, especially not a fairly conventional woman, will ever be enough for John."
"Well, it's about bloody time it was," George replied furiously. "Jo, I can't do this. The guilt I've felt at sleeping with him twice has almost succeeded in finishing me off altogether. Wonderful as it might be to be what amounts to John's mistress, I just couldn't do it."
"But there wouldn't be any question of guilt involved in this," Persisted Jo, determined to persuade George to agree. George eventually sat down on the sofa and lit another cigarette.
"Is this really what you want?" Asked George, still unable to believe that Jo was serious about this.
"I wouldn't have suggested it if it wasn't," Jo replied. "George, it's the only way I can think of, of making him stay with me long term. If I just let things go on as they are, he will hurt me once too often, and I don't want that to happen."
"Are you planning to go official about your relationship with him?"
"No way," Said Jo, briefly rolling her eyes. "That only ever introduces unnecessary tensions and expectations. George, I'm asking you to do this for me, because I know that you won't ever take him back full time. If I didn't know who he was sleeping with, I'd always be afraid that one day, he might find someone who could give him more than I do. There would always be the possibility that he would one day leave me for someone else. As you said, that isn't going to happen with you." George sat and smoked in silence, contemplating everything Jo had said. Eventually, she stubbed out her cigarette and refilled her glass with Martini. Picking it up, she reached forward to clink it with Jo's.
"Crazy as this situation is," She said with a rueful smile, "I think you have yourself a deal." As their glasses touched, Jo smiled broadly.
"Thank you," She said, "You're not the only one who's going to have reservations about this."
"I think I'll leave telling him about this to you," Said George far too innocently, knowing of old how much John hated to be outmanoeuvred.
A couple of hours later, when they'd consumed enough alcohol to relax both of them, and George had eaten the rest of her plate of cheese, they heard a familiar car draw up outside and a key turn in the front door.
"I'd forgotten he still had Neil's key," George said with a smile at John's devious nature. When he appeared in the lounge, they both smiled at him.
"How were the judges?" Asked Jo, and he couldn't help but notice the distinct air of relaxed connivance between these two favourite women of his.
"I wish I'd been here instead," He said. "If I ever end up as thoroughly irritating and dull as the rest of them, do let me know."
"Oh, I don't think there's much chance of that, do you Jo?" George asked, giving Jo a conspiratorial wink. Jo grinned.
"No, I don't think so somehow."
"I'm not even going to ask what you two have been discussing in my absence," He replied, getting the very discomforting feeling that they'd been talking about him.
"Oh, you'll find out soon enough," Said George, trying to wind him up even further. John held out the door key he'd let himself in with.
"Do you want this back?" He asked, holding it out to George.
"I think you'd better keep it for now," She said, wondering just how he would take Jo's suggestion. A little while later when George watched them drive away in John's car, she stood on the doorstep, looking out at the dark, now November night. She was forced to admit that Jo's idea had been an ingenious one. But could they really carry it off? She didn't know. Only time would tell. A few days ago, Georgia Channing hadn't wanted more time, she hadn't wanted any time at all on this earth. But now she felt that maybe, just maybe she might have a life worth fighting for.
Jo arrived at George's soon after eight that evening, John dropping her off on his way to some judge's convention that mere QC's weren't permitted to attend. He said he'd pick her up later so that she could drink. A tennis match was going on in Jo's head, of whether she should float her suggestion with George, or whether she shouldn't. But before this decision was made, Jo knew that she had to have answers to a few questions. The possible answers she might receive were almost more frightening than how George might react to what she had to say. They sat and talked for a while, listening to some fairly hypnotic music that couldn't fail to relax even the most tense of souls. It was odd, George thought wryly, how two women who now knew so much about each other, could talk for almost an hour about nothing remotely important, always avoiding the issues that had so recently occupied both their minds. At one point, Jo looked at George with a little twinkle in her eye and said,
"That's the longest I've ever seen you make a drink last." George found that she couldn't quite meet Jo's eyes.
"I haven't got round to eating yet today and too much alcohol on an empty stomach is never a good idea." Jo rolled her eyes.
"Then do it," She said gently but firmly. She didn't take her unwavering gaze away from George until she finally shrugged, stood up and moved towards the kitchen. Looking back over her shoulder, George asked,
"Are you hungry?" Not wanting to be the only one eating.
"I ate before I came out," Replied Jo, wondering how long George would have put this off if Jo hadn't brought it up. George returned in a few minutes with a plate of cheese and crackers. Jo made absolutely no comment on what George was eating, knowing that as long as she was, drawing attention to it wasn't necessary.
"So," Said George, taking a mouthful of cheese, "Tell me why you've been looking so pensive ever since you got here." Thinking that she'd actually hidden it quite well, Jo's eyes widened. "You're not the only one who has the capacity to be vaguely observant on occasions, you know," George said dryly. Jo took a swig of her whisky to give her courage.
"It's about John," She said, putting the glass back on the table. George just waited. "But before I tell you about the possible solution to some of our problems, yours, mine and his, I need answers to a couple of questions."
"Go on," Said George, thoroughly intrigued but still on her guard.
"I need to know how you feel about John." George recoiled as if she'd been slapped. Putting the plate of cheese down on the coffee table, because she suddenly didn't feel like eating it, George lit a cigarette.
"Why is it so imperative for you to know?" She asked guardedly.
"Because I need to know what level of threat your feelings for John might pose." George looked relieved.
"Well, you can stop worrying," She said. "I might still love John," She added, now knowing that she could be totally open with Jo. "But he will never feel the same about me again. I've hurt him too much." Jo looked unconvinced. "Oh, he might say he does," Went on George, "He might even think he does, but he couldn't. What happened with Charlie hurt him more than he will ever admit to anyone. How could he, how could anyone, love me after I'd put them through something like that. Jo, even if John thinks he does still have anything but negative feelings for me, it won't get him anywhere. We've both hurt each other too much to even consider living together or having any kind of a relationship again. You can feel utterly safe on that score, I promise."
"I thought you didn't do promises," Said Jo, a small smile turning up the corners of her mouth. But George remained very serious.
"That's one promise I know I can keep," She replied. "Jo, I'm not going through this again. Though it feels odd to say it, I value our friendship far more than I do a quick fix from John, and I never thought I'd even come close to saying something like that." Jo stared at her, utterly speechless. Never would she have expected to hear something like this from George. Yes, Jo had known that they were getting closer, they were becoming friends of a sort. You don't exchange the type of deeply held confidences that they had and not become friends, but it still stunned her to hear George say it. She was incredibly touched by such a level of sentiment coming from someone whom she'd thought of for years as not having a remotely soft bone in her body.
"Well," Said Jo, trying to steady her voice, "Keeping that in mind, there's something else I need to ask you." George had observed Jo's slight shock at what she'd said, and knew that in barely commenting on it she was trying to bring the conversation back on to safer ground. George simply raised an eyebrow. "George, this is quite difficult," Jo added, looking more uncomfortable by the minute.
"I'm listening," George replied, wondering what on earth was coming.
"When you slept with John, recently I mean, I know he said something to you about me, something that I might not want to know. What was it?" George held her cigarette suspended in mid air, staring at Jo because she could all too easily remember John's words of that night. He'd said, "Jo's not quite as adventurous as you." Just before the ash fell from the end of her cigarette, she reached forward and stubbed it out in the ashtray. "What was it, George?" Jo persisted. "Did he tell you how uninteresting in bed I am?"
"No, of course not," Said George, with a little too much vehemence. Jo rolled her eyes.
"George, you're an even more transparent liar than my youngest son," She said, knowing that whatever it was, she needed to know. Now it was George's turn to look uncomfortable.
"I think his words were, Jo's not quite as adventurous as you. Why, do you think that's why he strays?"
"I'd say it was pretty obvious, wouldn't you?" Jo replied, the hurt at John's words clearly showing in her face.
"Jo, that's got absolutely nothing to do with it," Said George with total certainty.
"Hasn't it?" Asked Jo in disgust.
"No, not in the slightest. Jo, just because I'll try almost anything at least once, does not, I repeat not make you uninteresting in bed. If anything, it makes me a whore. John really isn't that fickle. You might think he is sometimes, and you'd probably have every reason too, but John doesn't work like that." George stood up and moved to perch on the arm of Jo's chair. Taking one of Jo's hands that had been folded in her lap, she could feel the chill from its contact with the ice-filled whisky glass. "John loves you, Jo, more than he's ever loved anyone."
"So why is it so difficult for him to be even remotely faithful?" Jo asked, her tone half-angry, half-pleading.
"I don't know," Said George wearily. "I think he needs at least the pretence of an affair, or a fling, or an occasional away fixture to remind himself why he loves the one woman he's supposed to be with. You know as well as I do that it mostly stems from feeling very insecure. I think part of him is so convinced that whoever he's with will one day leave him, that he has to make the pretence of not needing them so much. After Charlie, he thought I didn't love him, so he played away to feel appreciated again."
"But I do love him," Jo said emphatically. "I wouldn't put up with him the way I do if I didn't."
"I know," Said George, gently chafing away the coldness from Jo's hand. "And John knows that too, but because he didn't have a fallback when his mother died, and therefore left him, I think he feels that he has to have some way of coping if ever you were to leave him. I don't know that for certain, I'm just taking a shot in the dark."
"Which makes what I have to suggest, all the more reasonable," Said Jo, turning her head slightly to look in to George's face. "Will you help me keep him on the straight and narrow?" George looked nonplussed.
"I don't understand," She said. "After all, I was the one who failed to keep him on the straight and narrow in the first place."
"George, I think he needs both of us," Said Jo carefully. George let go of Jo's hand as if it had burnt her. She stood up and began pacing back and forth between the piano and the sofa.
"Jo," She said firmly. "I can't let you do that."
"Why?" Asked Jo, "It's the obvious solution to a problem. We both love John, you've said it yourself, and I don't think he'll ever feel secure enough to settle with just one woman. George, one woman, especially not a fairly conventional woman, will ever be enough for John."
"Well, it's about bloody time it was," George replied furiously. "Jo, I can't do this. The guilt I've felt at sleeping with him twice has almost succeeded in finishing me off altogether. Wonderful as it might be to be what amounts to John's mistress, I just couldn't do it."
"But there wouldn't be any question of guilt involved in this," Persisted Jo, determined to persuade George to agree. George eventually sat down on the sofa and lit another cigarette.
"Is this really what you want?" Asked George, still unable to believe that Jo was serious about this.
"I wouldn't have suggested it if it wasn't," Jo replied. "George, it's the only way I can think of, of making him stay with me long term. If I just let things go on as they are, he will hurt me once too often, and I don't want that to happen."
"Are you planning to go official about your relationship with him?"
"No way," Said Jo, briefly rolling her eyes. "That only ever introduces unnecessary tensions and expectations. George, I'm asking you to do this for me, because I know that you won't ever take him back full time. If I didn't know who he was sleeping with, I'd always be afraid that one day, he might find someone who could give him more than I do. There would always be the possibility that he would one day leave me for someone else. As you said, that isn't going to happen with you." George sat and smoked in silence, contemplating everything Jo had said. Eventually, she stubbed out her cigarette and refilled her glass with Martini. Picking it up, she reached forward to clink it with Jo's.
"Crazy as this situation is," She said with a rueful smile, "I think you have yourself a deal." As their glasses touched, Jo smiled broadly.
"Thank you," She said, "You're not the only one who's going to have reservations about this."
"I think I'll leave telling him about this to you," Said George far too innocently, knowing of old how much John hated to be outmanoeuvred.
A couple of hours later, when they'd consumed enough alcohol to relax both of them, and George had eaten the rest of her plate of cheese, they heard a familiar car draw up outside and a key turn in the front door.
"I'd forgotten he still had Neil's key," George said with a smile at John's devious nature. When he appeared in the lounge, they both smiled at him.
"How were the judges?" Asked Jo, and he couldn't help but notice the distinct air of relaxed connivance between these two favourite women of his.
"I wish I'd been here instead," He said. "If I ever end up as thoroughly irritating and dull as the rest of them, do let me know."
"Oh, I don't think there's much chance of that, do you Jo?" George asked, giving Jo a conspiratorial wink. Jo grinned.
"No, I don't think so somehow."
"I'm not even going to ask what you two have been discussing in my absence," He replied, getting the very discomforting feeling that they'd been talking about him.
"Oh, you'll find out soon enough," Said George, trying to wind him up even further. John held out the door key he'd let himself in with.
"Do you want this back?" He asked, holding it out to George.
"I think you'd better keep it for now," She said, wondering just how he would take Jo's suggestion. A little while later when George watched them drive away in John's car, she stood on the doorstep, looking out at the dark, now November night. She was forced to admit that Jo's idea had been an ingenious one. But could they really carry it off? She didn't know. Only time would tell. A few days ago, Georgia Channing hadn't wanted more time, she hadn't wanted any time at all on this earth. But now she felt that maybe, just maybe she might have a life worth fighting for.