Part One Hundred And Fifty Five
As John drove away from Jo's house, he couldn't believe what had just happened. Yes, he knew that George was furious with him, but to strike him as she had done, that was something else altogether. Jo had seen what George had been about to do, and she'd tried to stop her. That surely meant that Jo wasn't as angry with him as George, but he secretly knew that this was clutching at straws. George had exhibited the anger of their situation, Jo the hurt. It caused him a physical pain to see such a feeling of betrayal in Jo's eyes, it always did. So why did he keep on doing this to her? What he'd said to George had been right, if they hadn't argued as bitterly as they had back in April, he never would have picked up Angela, and they now wouldn't be in this predicament. Did that make it his fault, or George's? He wasn't sure, not entirely his at any rate. But the Chlamydia hadn't been why she'd slapped him, that had been due to the fact that he'd picked up a girl who'd looked very like George, when he'd first met her at that New Year's Eve party when she was only twenty years old. God, he thought to himself that was nearly thirty years ago now. So much had happened to all of them in that time, so much that he'd done wrong, and couldn't really put right.
When he drew up outside Karen's flat, he wondered for a moment why he'd come here. She obviously knew about the Chlamydia, because she would have been tested for it herself. Hoping that he wasn't about to see a similar performance from her, he locked the car and rang the doorbell. When Karen opened the door and saw the blood running down his face onto his pristine white shirt, she grinned broadly. "Did George do that?" She asked in greeting as she let him in. "It's not funny," He insisted, following her up the stairs. "No, of course not," She replied, trying to force a serious expression onto her face and failing. "Not in all the fights we've had, has she ever done anything like this," He said as they reached the lounge. "Well, now you know how I felt when Denny did similar to me," Karen said matter-of-factly. "That's different," He protested disgustedly. "George wasn't out of her mind on speed." "Anger can be just as powerful, John, and she's been building up to this row all week. Add a hefty dose of hurt and sexual frustration to the mix, and there you are." "Have you got some cotton wool or something?" He asked, wanting to remove the evidence of George's wrath as quickly as possible. "Sure," Karen said, leading him towards the bathroom. "And then I'm going to give you, the most humiliating lecture you've ever had in your life," She promised firmly. "Oh, I'll look forward to it," He replied sardonically, seeing that she hadn't even started yet.
When John had cleaned the cut on his face, and joined Karen back in the lounge, she poured them both a glass of wine and they sat on the sofa. "So," Karen said, lighting a cigarette. "Are you going to tell me what this was all about?" "Back in April, when George and I had that fairly bad argument, I got over it by picking someone up in a bar after George threw me out. Her name was Angela, and no, I don't know her last name. I'm not proud of it, but I thought it was just one of those things." "Is there anyone else, who ought to go and find out if they're carrying around the same nasty little surprise?" Karen asked silkily. "Such as Yvonne for example?" John stared at her. No, she couldn't, she couldn't possibly know about Yvonne! "Please tell me that neither Jo nor George know about that?" He asked almost hoarsely. "No, and they never will. I only worked it out, because I know you far better than you think I do." "How long have you known?" "Since about the middle of April. So, if that was when you picked up this woman, Yvonne doesn't need to know about the Chlamydia." "I can't believe she slapped me," He said, the shock only just sinking in. "Yeah, well, if you'd managed to give it to me too, I'd have been tempted to give you one on the other side," Karen said firmly. "They're hurt, John," She added more gently. "Hurt and angry. George will probably be just as shocked as you are that she slapped you, and she'll probably feel incredibly guilty for it. Give her a day or two, and she'll almost certainly come and apologise." "I know I shouldn't have broken my word, but it's not as if I've never done it before," He tried to reason with her. "And it's not as if Chlamydia isn't curable. I'm not entirely sure I know what all the fuss is about." Restraining the urge to wring his neck, Karen replied with an ever-decreasing supply of patience. "John, do I have to treat you like my son?" She demanded curtly. "Because I can assure you that right now, you really are behaving like him." John opened his mouth to tell her precisely why he was behaving nothing like her son, and then closed it again. Tonight wasn't the night for revelations that it wasn't his place to provide. "Not to put too fine a point on it," Karen continued. "You've given Jo and George, something that you picked up from being inside another woman. Now, they've both had this for almost three months, which means they will both have been going over and over the times they've slept with you during that time, wondering precisely when you passed it onto them. I'm sure that some time this evening, one or the other of them has pointed out to you, that Chlamydia can make a woman infertile, if left long enough. I know that neither of them has any plans to have any more children, but that does not give you the right to take that kind of risk with their health. I don't want to frighten you, though perhaps I ought to, but something as catastrophic as HIV can be passed on in exactly the same way." Again John's thoughts strayed to Ross. Had she ever given him this type of lecture, told him how to keep himself and others safe from that particular infection? Yes, she almost certainly had. "John," Karen added regretfully. "If you insist on picking up nameless, faceless women, even though you've got more love and commitment at home than most people find in their entire lifetime, then you must, be, careful. I cannot impress that on you too strongly." "Am I supposed to feel humiliated?" He asked after a long, thoughtful pause. "Yes, to a certain extent," Karen told him matter-of-factly. "So that in future, you might spare the most fleeting of thoughts to possible consequences." After taking a swig of his wine, He said, "I don't think it was this that made George slap me. They wanted to know what she looked like, and I don't think George was very happy with the response." Karen simply raised an eyebrow, inviting him to continue. "She looked just like George, when she was only twenty, when I first met her. She had hair right down her back, and was wearing a skirt that was virtually non-existent." Karen winced. "Then I'm hardly surprised she slapped you," She said bitterly. "Knowing that you'd picked up someone who resembled what she used to be, that would have hurt her immensely, John." "I know," He said regretfully. "I think I picked on her, because I wanted to remember a time when George had been happy with me, when she hadn't begun to question who I was." "We all change, John," Karen said quietly. "Believe me, there is nothing I would like more, than to go back to a time when Ross still appreciated my existence, and didn't disagree with me purely on principle. But I can't, and you can't do the same with either George or Jo." It hurt John immensely to hear her talking so regretfully about her son, because she didn't know the half of it. "Your son doesn't know how lucky he is," John said vehemently, with a depth of emotion in his voice that Karen couldn't place. "I'll send him to see you, when we have our next row," She said philosophically. "You do that," John said quietly, fervently hoping that one day, she could.
When John had left, they listened as his car roared away. George was standing where she'd been when John had stalked out, just staring at the hand she'd used to slap his face. After a moment's silence, Jo got up from her chair and slowly walked over to George, seeing such an expression of appalled bewilderment on her face that she instantly forgave her. Taking George's still upraised right hand in hers, Jo swivelled the sapphire ring round to face the right way, and gently persuaded George to sit down beside her on the sofa. "I can't believe I just did that," George said into the silence, her hand still in Jo's. "Yes, it was something of a shock," Jo said in that understated fashion that right now, was necessary. "Jo, I didn't mean to do it, just... I... I just saw red when he said that she'd looked like me." "Which is perfectly understandable," Jo said reasonably. "No, no, it isn't," George protested vehemently. "I did precisely what Neil did to me nearly two years ago. I reacted without thinking to something that really riled me. That's just what he did. That makes me as bad as him. I should go and find John right now, and tell him I'm sorry." She had tears in her eyes by this time, and all Jo could do was to put her arms round her. "Listen," She said slowly and deliberately, trying to calm George down. "Talking to John tonight is the last thing you should do. You both need to calm down, which means that you both need some space from each other. Let him lick his wounds, and go and see him in a day or two. You're not the only one who'll have some grovelling to do." "But don't you get it?" George asked in complete despair. "This was my fault. Most of the bitterly horrible things that were said between us back in April, most of them came from me. If I hadn't said some of the things I did, he might not have picked up that girl, and we wouldn't be in this situation now. You've ended up with this utterly disgusting disease, all because I don't know when to keep my mouth shut." "George," Jo held her at arm's length and slightly shook her. "I am not going to let you do this. Arguments happen, even terrible ones that you instantly regret for whatever reason, but it's how we deal with them that counts. Going out and picking up the first woman to catch his eye, was the worst way of dealing with an argument that John could have chosen. You always have to find a reason to feel guilty, even when it's clearly not you who needs to feel it. This, is, not, your, fault, and I will not let you blame yourself for something John has done. That's John, not you, not me, but John. No, you shouldn't have slapped him, but he will forgive you, I know he will." "I hope so," George said quietly, grateful for Jo's unending wisdom. "Who's was the ring?" Jo asked, touching the jewel that had cut John's face. "It was my mother's," George said regretfully. "Daddy wouldn't be very pleased that I'd inadvertently used it to hurt someone." "You'll lose it if you're not careful." "It usually is a bit loose, but I've not eaten much this week, so it's acquired even more room for manoeuvre," George said dryly. Jo knew that George's assertion of not having eaten much was probably on the conservative side, but she didn't comment. "Do you feel like eating something now?" Jo asked, hoping she would though not banking on it. "Thank you for the concern, darling," George said with a fond smile. "But eating is definitely the last thing I want to contemplate." "You can't blame me for trying," Jo said a little sheepishly.
After putting on some soft music and topping up their glasses, Jo returned to the sofa, she and George slipping into the type of closeness that neither were used to with the other, as if they'd been doing it all their lives. Few words needed to be spoken, as it was the closeness that mattered. With her head on Jo's shoulder, George could hear the reassuring sound of her breathing, together with the slow, regular thud of her heart. Jo smiled to herself when she realised that she was running each strand of George's hair through her fingers, knowing that two years ago, this would have been unthinkable. Each woman was submerged in her own thoughts, the soft music and their gentle embrace, serving to relax them both. "I could get used to this," George said, breaking in on their mood of growing tranquillity. "Is there any reason why you shouldn't?" Jo asked softly. "Yes, at the moment there is," George said regretfully. "Karen. I can't go on keeping her in the dark like this, Jo." Taking in a long, slow breath, Jo had to admit that she was right. "I've got to tell her soon," George persisted gently. "You know I have." "Yes," Jo said quietly. "I know. I suppose I'm just not ready to tell John quite yet, and we can't tell one without the other." "Darling, I'm not trying to pressure you," George assured her. "I just want you to give some thought to it, that's all." "Thank you," Jo said gratefully, briefly touching her cheek. "I almost told John, the day of the performance," George admitted with a wry smile. "I didn't, but I came very close to it." "Oh, and what led to such an impulse?" When George blushed, Jo laughed. "If you can't talk about it, George, then you certainly shouldn't be contemplating doing it." "I'll remember that one, thank you," George said with a smirk, thinking that she might one day have to turn that little saying back on Jo. "I'm not sure you'll really want to know," George added, wishing she hadn't started this conversation. "You've started now," Jo goaded her. "So finish." "I was lying on the sofa, giving John oral, which isn't something I do very often, and I was presented with the rather tantalising image, of me doing that, and being watched by you." "Well, well, Ms Channing, how positively deviant of you," Jo said grinning broadly. "Don't you start," George said blushing even further. "That's pretty much what he said." "Oh, well," Jo said philosophically. "I suppose you could always show me how it's done." "Have you never tried it?" George asked, without an ounce of scorn or disbelief in her tone. "Once or twice, but I've never found it that appealing, and I've only ever taken it so far." "Well, believe me, the end result is definitely anything other than appealing. Whereas doing that for a woman, well, I personally think it's one of the most erotic pastimes in the world." George had drawn slightly back from Jo, so that she could look straight into her eyes, and after proclaiming her particular liking, she ran the tip of her tongue across her upper lip, leaving Jo wondering just what else she could do with it. When their lips met, the exploration was deep and lingering, possibly the most sensual they'd yet shared. "Did you really find that idea worth thinking about?" Jo asked, when they came up for air. "Oh, yes," George said firmly. "The eventual orgasm was so mind blowing, that it made me pass out, not something I've done through sex before. But it was when I came round that I nearly told him about us. It just struck me that this was all getting far too complicated, at least far more complicated than it was ever supposed to be. I know it's going to hurt Karen, and that's the last thing I want to do, but unfortunately, it's unavoidable. There will never be a good time to do it, so no, I'm not in any great rush." They stayed like this for a while, softly kissing, and murmuring gentle words of affection. Glancing at her watch a good while later, George said, "I should go, whilst I can still drive." "I'd rather you didn't," Jo said quietly, not altogether sure how George would take her invitation. "You want me to stay?" George clarified. "Yes," Jo told her simply. But when George's eyes widened in surprise, she added, "Just to sleep."
A while later, when she'd leant George a nightie and a toothbrush, Jo was lying in her soft, double bed, listening to George taking a quick shower. She'd had a bath earlier in the evening, trying to make herself relax a little before the row began, though it hadn't really worked. When George appeared in the bedroom doorway, Jo glanced up at her and laughed. "You look ridiculous," She said, as George cross to the bed. George was wearing one of Jo's nighties, and as a result of Jo's greater height and slightly fuller build, it almost hung off her. "I've no doubt," George said with a laugh of her own, as she turned back the duvet and slid in beside Jo. She was lying on Jo's left, presumably where John usually did. How would it work if there were three of them? George couldn't begin to imagine. It seemed so natural to move into each other's arms, though this was the closest they'd ever been. The contours of their bodies appeared to fit together like a jigsaw, leaving no gaps between them. "This feels odd, but right, if that makes any sense," Jo said, smiling a little at her confusion. "I know," George agreed with her. "It does, the first few times." When they kissed, they could taste the other's toothpaste, their own distinct flavour becoming gradually familiar. Jo's hands occasionally moved on George's back, coming into contact with her very prominent and bony shoulder blades. But after a while, she said, "I have an almost overwhelming urge to touch you," watching George's face for any sign of disapproval. "You already are," George replied, laughing softly. Then, at Jo's slight look of embarrassment, she added more seriously, "Darling, there's no one here telling you not to." Very slowly, gazing into George's endless blue eyes as she did so, Jo gradually moved her hand round to the front of the nightie George was wearing. George's breast was undoubtedly smaller than hers, but its size suited George's slighter frame. It was so soft under the cotton of the nightie, really the only fleshy part of George's body. George began to relax under Jo's tentative caresses, and when she felt Jo's finger graze over her nipple, she gasped. It was odd, Jo thought, that George's nipple could be so hard, so erect, compared to the softness of the rest of her breast. Jo wasn't sure what made her do it, but after a short time of doing this to George, she felt for George's hand, and led it to her own breast. Perhaps she didn't want to be the only one doing this, or perhaps she simply wanted some of what she was doing to George. This hadn't really surprised George, but before accepting Jo's invitation, she exchanged a questioning glance with her, just to make sure that this was what she wanted. Jo's chest was definitely fuller than her own, though not as extensive as Karen's. When Jo felt George's gentle hand on her, she stopped what she was doing for a moment, because the sensation was so new to her. No man had ever been so gentle, so delicate, so sensitive to each and every pleasure point. "You do realise," George said between kisses. "That because of the Chlamydia, we really can't take this much further." "Would you want to though, if it was possible?" Jo asked, wanting to be sure. "Without a doubt," George said unequivocally. "Would you?" "Yes." They continued like this for a while, exchanging long, glorious kisses, and gentle though nonetheless arousing caresses, until Jo tentatively slid her hand inside the low-cut V-shaped front of George's nightie. When George felt Jo's beautifully smooth, infinitely female fingers on her skin, she couldn't help but emit a moan of pleasure. Jo moved her hand to the other breast this time, coaxing that nipple in turn to full hardness. Following Jo's actions, George slipped her hand under the cotton, finding Jo's warm, soft skin ready and waiting for her. Their hands began stroking in rhythm with each other, moving over soft flesh and teasing at nipples. Jo couldn't believe she was finally doing this, that after all this time she was actually touching and arousing another woman. George's breathing had noticeably quickened, her kisses becoming more frantic. Jo had let out a cry of surprise when George had encountered her bare nipple, but other than this, she hadn't made hardly any sound at all, usually being fairly quiet in bed. Realising that George was approaching a climax, Jo altered her position so that she could give George attention from both hands, gently rolling her nipples between finger and thumb. George felt incredible. Not for more years than she cared to remember, had she been in danger of coming just from this. But here she was, fast approaching an orgasm, just from having her nipples played with, and by someone who'd never done anything of the sort in her life. When she came, her whole body stiffened, her teeth clenching so as not to let out the cry of abandon that she might have under normal circumstances. Jo watched her in fascination, the sight of George reaching orgasm possibly the most intensely bizarre thing she had ever witnessed. When George let out a long, satisfied sigh, pulling Jo against her, Jo kissed her and smiled. "Sorry about that," George said sheepishly. "Oh, my pleasure," Jo said dryly. "That was certainly something of an eye opener to say the least." "I should have waited for you though," George said apologetically. "Whilst trying not to cast aspersions on your unquestionable skill," Jo said with a fond smile. "I don't think you would achieve the same result with me, just from that. It usually takes an awful lot to get me to go that far." "I can try, if you want me to." "No, not tonight. Just having you here, is more than overwhelming enough." As they lay cuddled in each other's arms, contemplating the entire evening's events, they both wondered how this whole complicated tangle of feelings would eventually pan out. Karen would be hurt, John would be confused, and would they all be able to come through it. As Jo watched George's eyes finally close, she reflected on how far they'd come in the last two years. Instead of sniping, bitching, fighting at every possible opportunity, she and George were now sleeping in the same bed, held safe in the other's arms, and destined one day to do far more.