Part One Hundred And Eighty Nine
All day Saturday, George couldn't sit still. She flitted about the house, tidying things that were already in their usual place, removing dust that didn't exist, and generally finding anything to keep herself busy. John was coming to see her that evening, which meant that her time limit was up. She'd known that this day would eventually come, but did it really have to be now? Yes, of course it did, she told herself sternly, because Karen knew about it, and had asked her to put John fully in the picture. That was as good a reason as any, she supposed. The only problem with keeping one's hands thoroughly occupied with any number of menial tasks, is that one's brain has the time to ramble all over the place. George had rehearsed again and again what she should say to John, how she should phrase her involvement with Jo, but nothing sounded quite right. "John, me and Jo have become closer than you ever suspected." Well, that was bloody obvious, wasn't it, and it didn't make anything any plainer than it was right now. They had all grown closer over the last couple of years, closer than any clairvoyant could have predicted, judging by their previous encounters. "John, Jo and I have become lovers." This was a lie for a start, because she and Jo hadn't even slept together, well, not really, not in John's sense of the word. She didn't even know what Jo looked like without her clothes on. "John, you know the feelings I confessed having for Jo, well, it seems they are reciprocated." Oh god, that sounded far too much like something Daddy would say. This was stupid, she thought in despair. She was a barrister, for god's sake, someone who was used to the cut and thrust of legal argument. Not, therefore, someone who ought to be stuck for words, in a situation such as this. But Bar school was hardly the place for preparing to utterly shock your lover, now was it. Finally realising that there was nothing more she could do, she went upstairs and took a long, cool shower, hoping that the steadily flowing water might calm her down. But when she emerged, she felt just as on edge as she had before. This could go so badly, she knew that, because John's reaction to her news was as unpredictable as Daddy's reaction had been to the relationship between her and Karen. What if he were angry with her? What if he really did feel that she was trying to take Jo away from him? Well, she would have to deal with whatever arose, when it happened.
When John arrived in the middle of Saturday evening, he couldn't help but be immensely curious. George obviously had something enormously difficult to tell him, and the fact that she'd needed someone else's permission to tell him only served to confuse him more. As he walked up the steps to the front door, he became aware of the sound of her piano. God, he hadn't heard her play in so many years. Apart from the time she'd sight-read the accompaniment to the love duet and made him sing, she'd always played when he wasn't in the vicinity. She was playing the Appassionata Sonata if he knew anything, and putting every ounce of stress out through her fingers. Removing the key that she'd never asked him to return from his pocket, he silently let himself in, using the cover of a particularly loud section of music to close the front door behind him. He could almost feel how tense she was through the music, the frantic bars of full-bodied chords, telegraphing just how anxious she was of the coming meeting. Standing perfectly still in the lounge doorway, he watched her, the mid-evening sunlight playing over her face, her gaze buried in the music before her, with her profile giving away her utter determination to get every note absolutely right. Her back was rigid with tension, but her arms and hands flowed with the music, showing him that she was trying to use the music as an outlet.
George was perfectly aware of John's presence, the prickling of her senses telling her that she was no longer alone in her house, and the faint aroma of his aftershave letting her know for certain just who was behind her. But she kept on playing, knowing that she hadn't played for John in far too long, and if the following conversation went as badly as was possible, this might be the last chance she had. As she approached the final climactic bars of the piece, it was as if everything she had was crying out to him not to go, not to leave her when he'd heard what she had to say. There was a desperation in her playing, not something John could possibly miss. She feared what she had to tell him, he could hear that through her playing, and he could feel every throb of the nervous tension that was itching to escape. The last few bars, almost depicted the image of an approaching execution, that of the blade, ready to swing down and end what was between them, once and for all.
When she finally stopped, her hands resting in her lap, she glanced over to where he was standing. "You haven't heard me play for quite a while, have you?" "No, not in far too long," He said, moving over to stand beside her. "You look a bit frazzled," He added, leaning down to kiss her. "Which is precisely why I played what I did," She said, resisting the urge to simply wrap her arms around him and refuse to let go. "Is what you've got to tell me quite so frightening?" "Yes," She replied glibly. "It's so stupid," She went on, refusing to look at him. "Because I knew that I would one day have to do this, I just don't think I'd planned on it being so soon, which again is stupid, because if Ross hadn't died, it would probably have come out even sooner." "George, you're rambling," He said, taking a seat in the armchair, directly opposite her so that she couldn't avoid his eyes from where she was sitting sideways on the piano stool. "I know," She said miserably. "But I need you to understand why this is so difficult for me to tell you. I have absolutely no idea how you're going to react, not something I'm used to with you. It's always possible that you could be overjoyed, but on the other hand, it could completely destroy everything that you, me, and Jo, have between us." "Are you pregnant, is that it?" He suggested, thinking that this certainly would have put her in to this sort of state, if she'd decided to tell him at all. "Good god, no," She said in relief. "It's not that, I promise. John, I don't want to lose you, but if this isn't what you want, then I can't help thinking that I might. Part of me wishes that I didn't have to tell you, that I could just let things go on as they have been, and if I were the only one this concerned, then I probably would, but it's not quite that simple." "George, whatever it is, I'm not going to be cross with you, I promise." "You don't know that, John," She said, with such certainty that he longed to reach out his arms and hold her. "Okay, but wouldn't it be easier to get it over with, and then to give me all the explanations you feel are necessary, if they really are?" "Yes, it probably would," She conceded. "But that's what so stupid about this, because I really don't know how to say this to you. I spend every day of my working life arguing for a living, yet I just can't find the right words to say something so simple." "And that really isn't like you," He said dryly, trying to put her at her ease. "No, it's not," She ruefully agreed. Getting up from the piano stool, she went into the kitchen and poured them both a glass of wine, knowing that she was finding yet another excuse to put off the inevitable.
When she returned to the lounge and handed John his glass, it occurred to her that she probably oughtn't to be drinking on an empty stomach. She began walking round the lounge, picking things up and putting them down, quite obviously working up to dropping her bombshell. As she neared his chair, he caught hold of her hand, and drew her towards him. She didn't protest when he gently pulled her down onto his lap, or when he put his arms round her and kissed her. She loved being in his arms, because he had such a capacity for gentleness, not something one might have suspected from the way he usually treated women. "Just tell me," He said, softly stroking her cheek, seeing all too clearly that the strain was really getting to her. "Both Jo, and I, have feelings for each other, that neither of us ever expected." Now that it had finally been said, and even though this was only the tip of the iceberg, she knew that there was no going back. Her body stiffened, as if preparing for sudden flight, her whole existence suspended while she waited for his reaction.
John just stared at her. "Both of you?" He asked in astonishment, having been aware of George's growing feelings for Jo, but not of Jo's for George. "Yes," She said a little uncertainly. As she tried to extricate herself from his arms, he tightened his hold on her. "Don't go," He said, holding her close to him. "I'm so sorry," She said, her eyes filling with tears. "Why?" He said, now thoroughly mystified. "I don't want you to feel, as though I'm trying to take Jo away from you." "Oh, George," He said gently, wiping a tear away with a finger. "I couldn't help it, and neither could Jo." "I knew you felt a lot more for Jo, than you really wanted to tell me, but I had no idea about her." "John, we didn't want to keep it from you, but it was the only way we could find out where it was going." "George, am I really so overbearing, that you had to keep something as important as this from me?" "No, of course not," She said firmly, now getting up from his knee before he could stop her. "This was forbidden territory for both of us, something Jo certainly isn't used to inhabiting. This was, is, so new for her, John, that it had to move at her pace, not mine, not yours, but Jo's. You must understand that." "Have you slept with her?" "No, not yet, at least not really," George told him, a slight blush tingeing her cheeks at the memory of the one night she had slept in Jo's bed. "So I'm assuming this issue has arisen fairly recently." "No, not as such," She said carefully, taking a seat on the sofa and lighting a cigarette. "Just start from the beginning," John said quietly, wanting, yet at the same time not wanting to know the details. "When I got very drunk, back at the end of April, me and Jo did an awful lot of talking. She told me a lot about when she first met you, which is something I think I've needed to hear for a considerable amount of time. John, you know how low I was that weekend, and when Jo figured out what I was up to, she was so angry with me, that I half expected her to slap me. I think she kissed me, because she was so relieved that she was there, and that I couldn't go through with what I had planned." "Jo, kissed you?" He asked, utterly astounded by this particular revelation. "Yes, and even though I was plastered, it was incredible. We talked about it, the day after, which was when we decided to simply leave things as they were, and see what happened. We didn't know if it was just a spur of the moment thing, or whether it would turn into something deeper." "The day of 'The Creation'," He said, clearly remembering something. "After I'd made you pass out, you said that this wasn't ever supposed to happen. You were talking about you and Jo, weren't you?" "Yes, I was. I knew I couldn't stop the progression of my feelings for Jo, and yet I also knew that I was in serious danger of hurting Karen, not to mention what you might feel. I almost told you that day, and if I'd thought Jo was remotely ready for you to know, I would have done." "Some time in May," He went on, the memories now beginning to resurface. "Jo had an intensely erotic dream that she wouldn't tell me about. I think that might have been about you." "Yes, it was," George told him. "She told me about it. It thoroughly confused her, because she knew that anything between the two of us would only make things even more complicated than they already were. But every time we saw each other, it just got worse. John, we couldn't have prevented this, no matter how hard we might have tried. You remember that phone call I had, on the morning of my birthday, when we were still in bed? You thought it was Karen, but it wasn't, it was Jo." "You don't do things by halves, do you," He said, a smirk just touching the corners of his mouth. He could remember that occasion only too well. He'd been touching George, teasing her to the point of screaming, because she was on the phone to someone else, and wasn't giving him her undivided attention. By the way she'd been talking, he had naturally assumed it was Karen, but it hadn't been Karen at all, it had been Jo. But as something else seemed to click into place, his eyes widened. "That's why you were so angry over the Chlamydia, wasn't it, not just because I'd caught it from someone young enough to be my daughter, but because I'd given it to Jo." "Yes, that did have an awful lot to do with it," She admitted. "John, that night, the night I slapped you, I spent that night with Jo." "I thought you said you hadn't slept with her," He put in, clearly a little confused. "Two people can spend the night in the same bed without having sex, John, even you know that." "The evening you came to see me at the digs after that, when we all spent the night together, all this would go some way to explain why Jo didn't bat an eyelid at finding you somewhat undressed," He said, neither confirming nor denying her assertion. "It didn't occur to me at the time to wonder about it, but I should have done. So many things, that I should have questioned when they happened, or more often than not didn't happen, and I didn't. It all makes sense now. I don't like being kept in the dark, George." "I know you don't," She said regretfully. "But there really was no other way. John, you mustn't blame Jo for any of this." "Why not?" He asked, his voice exuding hurt. "You've been itching to tell me for weeks, but Jo has completely kept me out of the loop on this one." "You mustn't be cross with her, because you love her," George said simply. "That's why I was incredibly worried about telling you. You have loved Jo absolutely without question, for near enough the last twenty years. I don't want anything to cast a shadow on what you feel for Jo, because even now, even after all this time, it's so thoroughly untainted that it makes anything else look pretty pointless. I need you to understand, that what you have with Jo, isn't in any way threatened by what I might feel for her." "Is that really how you see me and Jo?" He asked, never having heard his relationship described in such beautiful terms. "Yes," George said fondly. "Jo won't ever do anything that could either hurt or disappoint you, whereas I seem to manage that on a fairly regular basis. That's why I wanted to tell you without her here, because it would be easier in the long run for both of us, if any hurt or anger you felt about this, was taken out on me, not Jo." "To tell you the truth," John said carefully. "I'm not really sure what to think. I'm not angry with either of you. Yes, I am a little hurt that you waited until now to tell me, and I'm incredibly confused, but they are things that will probably be sorted out after a lot of thinking and a lot of straight talking, if that isn't a terrible pun. Most of the feelings I have about this are positive, because if this works out as I hope it will, I can't think of anything that would make me happier. However, I do have two negative responses to this, the first being Karen." "Yes, I know," George said quietly. "And it's because of Karen that I'm telling you now. I'm not sure how she managed to work it out, but she did, and I bitterly regret having to do this to her now. I know that I couldn't possibly have picked a worse time for it, and if she had still been ignorant of the matter, then I probably would have left it longer." "She's not stupid, George," John told her, thinking that this used to apply to him. "I know. We haven't really discussed it, but she wants me to go out to Spain for a couple of days, so that we can. Before she left, she asked me to tell you, because I think she wanted everything to finally be out in the open." "That's no surprise," John said gloomily. "George, there really wasn't any need for you to be so nervous of telling me." "John, I wouldn't do anything that might risk your going away from me," She said, with a depth of feeling in her voice that she rarely allowed him to hear. Getting up from his chair, he moved to sit beside her on the sofa, putting his arms round her and kissing her. "Who would have thought," He said with a broad grin. "That there would come a day, when Georgia Channing would have difficulty, in telling me something that let's face it, does originate from a sexual desire." "Oh, very funny," She said drolly. "And I suppose you'll be eagerly waiting for the day when you can entertain the two of us at once." "I can be patient," He said unconvincingly. "Well, you might have to be," She told him seriously. "Not wanting to cast aspersions on your sexual skill," He said between kisses. "Why haven't you slept with Jo?" "I would have done, the night I slapped you, but we couldn't because of the Chlamydia. Since then, well, with everything else that's happened recently, it hasn't really been what you might call a pressing concern. I want to get this absolutely right, and I'm terrified of not being good enough for her." "You were for Karen, weren't you?" He asked, touched that she wanted it to be as perfect as possible for Jo. "That's different," George said dismissively. "Karen taught me everything I know. Jo might love the idea, but end up loathing the reality." "Don't you believe it," John said with utter certainty. "The most explosive orgasm I've ever seen her have, was after that Sunday when she saw you and Karen together. I'm pretty sure she was thinking about you, the whole time I was making love to her. There's only one thing you need to keep in mind with Jo, and that's that it can sometimes take quite a while to get her going. As long as you've got all the time in the world, you'll be fine." "It's not often that I wish I was as confident, or should I say arrogant as you are," She said with a laugh. "But I think this might just be one of them." When John left to return to the digs a good while later, they both knew that there were still an awful lot of questions that hadn't been answered. John was still trying to take it in, and George was trying to piece together her shattered nerves. On the surface John seemed happy, or at the very least accepting of what she'd told him, but George knew that a long and sleepless night would likely be in store for him, crammed with fears, realisations, and even more questions. He'd said that he would leave talking to Jo until tomorrow, because he needed some time to allow the dust to settle. George was also aware that he had only told her of his one negative reaction to her news, even though he'd said there were two. Well, he'd obviously avoided telling her about it for a reason, but she would remind him of it tomorrow, as she was determined that no feeling of hurt, or rejection, or whatever it was he hadn't been able to tell her, would get in the way for lack of talking about it.