Part Two Hundred
On the Sunday morning, when she finally plucked up the courage to go and see Karen, Jo wondered just how Karen would be towards her. They hadn't seen each other for a few weeks, not since the day after Karen had gone to scatter Ross's ashes. Jo had fully understood Karen's need to keep her distance from people, because she'd done exactly the same after her husband had died, but Jo didn't want to lose Karen's friendship, and she couldn't help but think this might now be an unavoidable possibility. She didn't want Karen to cut herself off from any of them, because she needed as much support as she could get, now more than ever.
"Jo," Karen said in surprise, when she answered Jo's ring at the doorbell. "Can I come in?" Jo asked quietly, thinking that Karen looked tired and pale. "Yes, of course," Karen replied, leading the way back up the stairs. Ever since she'd woken yesterday morning to find that John had left, Karen had felt unutterably guilty. She knew she'd apologised for what she'd said to John, but that didn't make her feel any better. She'd shouted at him, accused him of being the reason why she hadn't been able to save her son's life, and all he'd done was to listen to her, to comfort her, and to eventually hold her through the duration of Friday night. There had been nothing remotely sexual in his gesture, just the giving of simple comfort from one friend to another. He'd left a note for her on the table in the lounge, saying that he'd wanted to let her sleep, and for her to come and see him when she was ready. Why did he always have to be so understanding? Karen simply didn't know. But Jo was here now, presumably to clear the air about George, though that really wasn't necessary.
"Would you like a coffee?" Karen asked when they reached the lounge. Agreeing that this would go down a treat, Jo wondered how to broach the subject of why she was here. "You look tired," She said, as an opening for the conversation. "I got extremely drunk on Friday night," Karen told her. "And am only just recovering from the hang over. John's probably regretting his insistence on talking to me." "He did say that he was worried about you," Jo said gently, thinking that John ought to have realised that he might be about to bear the brunt of whatever had been eating Karen. "Why do I always do it, Jo?" Karen asked in utter self-disgust. "Why do I always say the most unforgivable things when I'm plastered?" "I think it's part of the process," Jo said with a half smile. "You won't be the first, and probably not the last, to say an awful lot to John when you were drunk, that you wouldn't have dreamt of saying if you were sober. I've certainly done it, George definitely has, and now you have. He won't take it to heart, I promise you." "Well, I wouldn't blame him if he did," Karen said dejectedly. "I did apologise to him, but I haven't said something quite so despicable ever since I split up with Yvonne." Lighting a cigarette with a slightly trembling hand, Karen took a long drag, and finally approached the subject of why Jo was here. "How's George?" She asked, not having seen or spoken to George since their return from Spain the previous Sunday. Putting her mug of coffee down on the table, Jo took a good look at Karen, seeing nothing but gentle concern. No anger, no reproach, just sincere enquiry. "She's all right," Jo told her. "I think she's missing you." "I'm hardly that far away," Karen said with a soft smile, thinking George a little silly for staying away if she didn't want to. "I think it might be fair to say," Jo said tentatively. "That you've been far away from everyone for quite some time now." "I know," Karen said regretfully, knowing that Jo meant in spirit if not in body. "I think I needed to do that, to have some time away from everyone." "It might not feel like it," Jo said gently. "But we do all still care a great deal, and nothing will ever change that." "I know you do," Karen replied, feeling Jo's desperate need to assuage her own guilt for taking George away from Karen, when she perhaps most needed her. "And Jo, you don't need to feel quite so guilty, you know," She added with a little smile, telling Jo that her efforts at concealing it were failing miserably. "Who says I do?" Jo asked, seeing a slight hint of the old twinkle in Karen's eye. "Jo, it's coming off you in waves," Karen told her, not wanting Jo to feel anything akin to guilt for what she had done, because their friendship was far too important for that. "She didn't want to hurt you, and neither did I," Jo said, the words she had come here to say, now finally leaving her mouth. "And believe me when I say, that I wholeheartedly wish this could have come out into the open at any other time." "Jo, please don't do this," Karen pleaded with her. "Yes, I was hurt by the fact that the two of you had kept it from me for quite so long, but that's all. Anything else I feel isn't something that is anybody's fault, and is only something that I will get over in time. If George is happy with you and John, I wouldn't ever want to stand in the way of that. She is far too important to me to want to do that. John has been a very good friend to me, and so have you, and I wouldn't want to lose either of you. George will always be incredibly special to me, and nothing will ever change that. I don't want you, or George, or anyone to feel guilty because of this, okay?" "All right," Jo agreed quietly, seeing that Karen really did mean what she was saying, and that they weren't merely words to make her feel better. "Just do one thing for me," Karen asked her, feeling a little silly but knowing she had to do it. "Look after her for me. George is an incredibly complicated woman, but then you know that already. I suppose I just want someone to keep as close an eye on her as I used to." "Karen, that sounds worryingly as though you're not planning on sticking around," Jo said suspiciously, thinking that it sounded as though Karen was the one who needed keeping an eye on, not George. "No, it's not, believe me," Karen told her, realising precisely how her words must have sounded. "I just want to know she's being taken care of, that's all." When she left after a good deal more talking, Jo couldn't help but hope that Karen's affirmation was true.