Chapter 8

Yes, I like Pina Coladas, and getting caught in the rain.
I'm not much into health food, I am into champagne.

Rupert Holmes

When I was young
It seemed that life was so wonderful
A miracle, Oh it was beautiful, Magical

Supertramp

Twenty minutes later, Jonathan Makepeace tapped lightly on the wide open dining room door before entering.

Harry and Dempsey had heard the creak of the fourth stair as he descended so his appearance was of no surprise to them anyway.

"Wow!" Dempsey exclaimed, putting down his wine goblet. "That razor sure worked some magic."

Clean shaven and with his damp hair brushed back, he looked a different person. In fact, with his angular jaw, grey eyes and dark blond hair, he was quite a handsome man.

"Much better," Harry agreed.

"Thank you. I certainly feel much better."

He had a bundle of clothing in his arms and Harry got up to take it from him.

"I'll just get these in the machine and bring the tea through. Help yourself to food although I should warn you, it's definitely past its prime now."

"It all looks and smells wonderful," he assured her.

"Won't be a tick," she breezed, more for Dempsey's benefit than anything. It really wasn't fair to leave him in this absurd situation with a complete stranger.

"I appreciate the loan of the clothes, Jim. It's all terribly embarrassing..." he stammered.

"Not a problem. Just moochin' around pants an' a sweater I keep here for whatever."

"Oh!" he said, surprised. "You and Harriet don't live together then?"

Dempsey lifted the goblet again and took a large gulp. Whoa! Was that the assumption he'd made?

"No way! Accordin' to Harry, I ain't even housebroken!"

Jonathan joined in with Dempsey's laughter from the other end of the table where he had succumbed to his severe hunger pangs and was filling his plate with Christmas fare.

"Might she train you up herself at some point do you think?"

Dempsey felt as though he was heading into dangerous territory. Their relationship had moved into a different zone only hours before and yet, here was this guy asking what must seem to him like a perfectly reasonable question he hadn't even had a chance to consider himself.

"Dunno 'bout that. Guess you can't teach an old dog new tricks and even if you could, I ain't convinced Harry would have the patience."

"I wouldn't have the patience for what?" Harry asked, the tray of tea things appearing through the door just before Harry herself came into view.

"For an un-housebroken dog," he answered, making some room on the table.

"A dog?" she queried but Dempsey swiftly changed the direction of the conversation by asking, "Shall I be mother?"

As she and Jonathan laughed, she cast him a look that told him his diversion had been noted.

Jonathan went and sat down beside Dempsey and having already seen their empty plates before them, he immediately began to eat. And clearly he was very hungry.

"This is absolutely wonderful," he enthused, "really wonderful."

Harry smiled. "Save some room for the Christmas pudding won't you?"

"Really? There's even a Christmas pud? I'd love to hear the story behind all this."

Harry put her elbows up on the table and said casually, "Tell you what, I'll tell you why we're celebrating Christmas on the fourteenth of September if you tell us why you're here celebrating it with us tonight. I think that's fair."

Jonathan bowed his head and swallowed his food uneasily.

"Of course. I owe you an explanation."

"You don't 'owe' anything. It's just that I'm struggling to see how you've got into this situation, Jonnie. You're one of the last people I would've expected something like this to happen to."

Jonathan smiled ruefully. "It happened with astonishing ease. You don't realise how quickly everything can just slip away from you if you let it... if you lose your grip."

He paused with his knife and fork for a moment, watching as Dempsey poured tea into his cup. "Thanks."

"How long you been out there?" Dempsey asked him.

"On the streets, you mean? Not long, relatively speaking. Five weeks – nearly six." He spooned two sugars and stirred it in slowly. "It feels like a lifetime on nights like tonight though."

"But how?" Harry burst out, unable to comprehend his predicament. She could no sooner grasp the concept of Jonathan being homeless than she could imagine it happening to herself.

He shrugged, offering a tired smile. "Just a catalogue of bad decisions and silly mistakes. I was made a bankrupt back in April; made a couple of poor investments which with hindsight, common sense should have told me to avoid like the plague. And then just at the wrong time, I was sued. I lost everything and then some."

"Jeez," Dempsey murmured.

Harry was genuinely shocked. "Oh, how awful. You had assets tied in with the company?"

"The cars, the house... I'd invested my own savings into the company just to try and stay afloat. All gone – including Sabrina I might add although I can't blame her for that now can I?"

"She your wife?" Dempsey asked.

"Yes, the old trouble and strife," he nodded. "Not for much longer I don't suppose. She'll be hunting me down for a divorce sooner or later."

"Any kids?" Dempsey questioned.

"No. No children which now seems quite fortunate I suppose." His mouth curved up a little. "We do have Nelly though, a rather lovely cocker spaniel."

Harry smiled affectionately at that. "I didn't really know Sabrina very well. We only met a couple of times but I was at the wedding of course."

"What is it they say – marry in haste, repent at leisure?"

"Hmm," Harry agreed, "I think we both of us learnt that lesson rather too late."

Jonathan chuckled. "That we did."

Throughout the conversation, he had continued to eat and now his plate was almost clear, Harry tried to offer him more.

"No, really. As lovely as it was, I couldn't manage another morsel. Haven't had such a huge meal in a good while." He eyed his empty mug. "I could just about manage another cup of tea though."

Harry obliged as she asked, "What about your parents? Surely they'd be able to help out."

Jonathan sat back in his chair with a sigh. "Mum died eighteen months ago. It was sudden. A brain haemorrhage."

"Barbara? Oh my God. I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

"These terrible things happen sometimes."

"And Patrick?"

"Dad went downhill fast afterwards. He's in a home. Alzheimers."

"You've had a tough time, pal, that's for sure," Dempsey sympathised.

"At least I'm still here to tell the tale."

"But why can't you live at Greyfields?" asked Harry. "Isn't it just standing empty? It's your family home!"

Jonathan chuckled as he brought the mug of hot tea to his mouth. "Yes, it is, isn't it."

Dempsey decided there was no point pussyfooting around. "You got a brother alive and well dontcha? Why don't he step up?"

Harry shot her partner a warning look which softened the instant she acknowledged that the same question had been playing around in her mind too.

"Robert and I aren't on speaking terms... haven't been for some considerable time. And unfortunately for me, he is the elder son with the law practice... and the power of attorney."

Harry had to take a moment to realise exactly what he was saying.

"So Robert has complete control over your father's affairs and yet won't even let you live in the house? Because of some stupid falling out, he'd sooner see you living rough?" She got up from her chair and stalked to the end of the table where she grabbed the jug of mulled wine from the hotplate. "That man is an absolute monster," she gritted.

Jonathan smiled placidly at her indignation. "To be fair, he doesn't know my situation..."

"Then tell him, for heaven's sake!"

Now standing beside her chair again, she held the jug poised over Dempsey's glass. "Do you want any more of this?" she snapped.

"Maybe just a little – to soften the edges, ya know," he drawled.

"Sorry," she apologised, "it just makes me angry to think of everyone dancing to Robert's tune." She topped both of their glasses up. "Jonathan, are you sure I can't tempt you?"

"No. Really. It's safer to keep a clear head out there, believe me."

"Well, you're obviously not going out again tonight," she said, going to the cabinet and taking down another goblet," so you may as well eat, drink and be merry."

"I couldn't..." Jonathan began.

"It's only a futon in the junk room but you're more than welcome to it."

He accepted the glass of mulled wine she handed him. "I suppose it would be extremely churlish of me to refuse."

Curious to hear the full story behind Robert Makepeace's involvement, Dempsey backtracked to before Harry's invitation.

"Must've been one helluva fallin' out for you to take a sidewalk over an apology.

Jonathan stared vacantly at the wine goblet in his hand. "Pride comes before a fall." He chuckled quietly and looked at Harry. "They're all coming out tonight, aren't they? All the old adages and cliches."

He returned to his glass and said, "I may be nought but a beggar, Mister Dempsey but I still have a few shreds of dignity remaining." He lifted his head. "And it certainly isn't me who owes the apology."

Dempsey sensed a deep loathing was adrift, just beneath those ripples of discord. "You wanna share with the group?" he chided, making it clear by 'group' that he wasn't alone in his feelings for his brother.

"My unwillingness to share was the problem, funnily enough; brotherly love, in my view, does not extend to one's wife."

"Oh my God," Harry exploded. "Unbelievable!"

Dempsey sat in silence, his own loathing of Robert Makepeace having found a new level.

"When did this happen?" she asked.

"Just over two years ago. Sabrina was very remorseful. Robert, on the other hand, most definitely was not. He actually saw it as a game, stealing her away from me, it was a challenge. He made no secret of it. Sabrina got swept along in the moment as it were."

"He always was manipulative."

A shadow of a frown interrupted Dempsey's neutral expression.

"But you forgave her?" Harry asked.

"Not really," he said sadly. "The marriage was doomed to failure after that. We just rubbed along, that's all. The bankruptcy was the final nail in the coffin."

"I'm so sorry, Jonnie. It's a wonder you kept your sanity throughout all of that."

Jonathan smiled weakly. "It's been touch and go to be honest. I was pretty low a few weeks ago. I'd almost given up altogether when I took to living rough. Suppose I was trying to escape it all."

Harry could see she had the opportunity to help him get his life back on track - and she would. She might be his only chance for a long time.

"But there must've been so many people who would've helped you out before it came to this. Me for one! You only had to ask."

He lowered his eyes, embarrassed by her sympathy. "It isn't that simple... it really isn't. I was in a very dark and dismal place. It isn't easy to find the motivation once you get so far down."

"But you're here now," she told him firmly, "that's the main thing. Things are going to get better."

He seemed to sink into himself then, shying away from her positivity.

"No, I don't want to put you out, Harry. I mean it. I'll be fine, I just... I don't now, seeing you last Monday, it just sparked something."

Dempsey sat back in his chair, stretching his legs out, wine goblet in both hands. "That, along with the beating you took tonight, I'm guessin'. Who had the beef with you?"

Jonathan sighed. "I have no idea. Just a couple of thugs. Got a load of verbal off them. They ran off with my bag after they'd knocked me around a bit. I found it where it'd been dumped a couple of streets away, half of my stuff strewn about and my wallet gone. Not that there was anything much in it. But it was leather – Aspinal. Maybe it'd buy them something to stick up their noses, I don't know."

"An' how you doin'? Looked earlier like you'd got some pain. You need somethin' for that?"

Automatically, Jonathan's hand went to his lower back as he explained, "No, no. Just bruised kidneys and a sore stomach. It's wearing off already."

"He's been on painkillers for ages. He practically rattles when he walks," said Harry, rolling her eyes with a half smile. "I'm sure he could sort you out with something."

"It's prescription meds, babe, it ain't candy."

Her joke had obviously fallen flat but it went seemingly unnoticed by Jonathan who asked, "Nothing serious?"

"Just a shoulder injury. Been slow to heal." He gestured to Jonathan's face. "Lucky the nose there ain't busted. You'll live to fight another day, huh?" Dempsey broke into a grin. "Jus' remember to keep dem dukes up next time, okay?" He raised his right fist, feigning a lazy mid air punch.

"Not really my style I'm afraid. I'll just have to learn to run faster, won't I?"

The two men laughed but Harry was finding it hard to see the humour in the situation. Jonathan had been through an awful lot and the trauma of tonight's experience was maybe more than his gentle soul could take.

"Well, I'm sorry Jonathan but this is ridiculous. You can't go on like this."

She stood up and began clearing their plates away, Jonathan immediately getting up to help. "You'll just have to stop here until you get yourself back on your feet," she said matter-of-factly.

He shook his head. "The very reason I hadn't intended getting in touch. I'm not about to turn your life upside down so no," he said firmly, "one night is all I need."

"And never mind that I haven't seen you for almost five years. How are we supposed to catch up in a couple of hours?" Harry demanded.

"I'll put it all on a Maxell 60."

Harry burst out laughing. "Perfect! God, those were the days, weren't they?"

"Remember The Logical Song?" he asked warmly.

Her hand flew to her mouth in mock horror. "How could I forget? You practically lobotomised me with it. The Logical Song was the entire 'A' side and the 'B' side was..."

"The Pina Colada Song," they chorused together, laughing even harder.

Harry caught the look of bemusement on Dempsey's face.

"Jonathan used to make me mix tapes," she explained happily, "a long time ago in the days when Robert and I were still just dating. I was mad about The Logical Song and Escape - you know, The Pina Colada Song, so Jonathan made a whole tape of just those two songs."

"The Pina Colada Song?" Dempsey smirked. "Wouldn't of thought that was your style."

"Well then, that just shows what you know," she teased, wrinkling her nose at him fondly.

If they had been alone, Dempsey would have tapped a playful finger against that nose... but then, if they'd have been alone, he wouldn't be feeling this itchy about some guy making her mix tapes way back when.

They'd been good friends, he recognised that – buddies. And when her marriage had ended, so had the friendship. But he'd come back into her life at the worst possible time as far as Dempsey was concerned. Now that he finally had her, he really didn't want to share.

"Anyway," said Jonathan, "I think it must be about now I get to hear all about Christmas in September."