JONATHON - Book 2

Chapter 2

He came downstairs and into the kitchen. The smell of bacon, eggs, sausages and tomatoes frying and the bubble and squeak, mashed boiled potatoes and cabbage, in a separate pan made him almost drool. He took in a deep breath.

‘Aaahh.’ he sighed in ecstasy.

‘C’mon Bisto kid, lay this table.’

He crossed the room and kissed behind her ears.

‘Be careful.’ she warned. trembling with longing as she always did when he kissed her there.

‘What of, the sizzling sausages or the wooden spatula?’ he chuckled.

‘Both.’ she cautioned him, waving the spatula at him threateningly.

He laughed and almost skipped out of reach and laid the table. She cut the bubble and squeak in half and turned one portion over. She did not like hers as well done as Jonny did.

‘Shall I make a pot of tea?’ Jonny asked when he had set the table.

‘That would be lovely, sweetheart.’ She continued to turn the bacon and sausages and flip the eggs over. She tossed in the mushrooms, flipped the tomatoes and stirred the baked beans. She dished hers up first and put the plate underneath to keep hot while she plated up Jonny’s meal and finished off his bubble and squeak.

She brought the plates to the table and saw Jonny’s grin of delight and anticipation.

‘Be careful, the plate’s very hot.’ She said as she put it down in front of him.

‘Oh Bea, that looks and smells gorgeous.’ He praised her.

‘Tuck in.’ she said, but he needed no urging.

He polished the whole lot off at an alarming rate and wiped his plate clean with a folded half slice of bread and butter. He had two cups of strong sweet tea and sat back replete, hands on his stomach.

‘Thank you sweetheart, that was superb.’ He told her.

‘Are you getting a little pot belly there?’ she teased him.

‘Me? Never!’ he chuckled. ‘But it’d be your fault if I did’

‘You don’t have to eat everything put in front of you.’

‘It would be rude not to.’ he countered

‘You are supposed to leave the pattern on the plate.’

He sat up and made a great show of studying the plain white plate and laughed at her.

‘Is there pudding?’ he wanted to know.

‘I don’t believe you.’ She said. ‘There’s only leftovers, I’m afraid.’

‘I didn’t think we did leftovers.’ he commented.

‘Well, no, not often with you around. There’s cold rice pudding or trifle.’

She saw him draw his bottom lip under his top one. That was a signal she had learned to look out for.

‘What?’ she demanded.

‘I ate the rice pudding earlier.’ He confessed.

‘Jonny!’

‘I’m sorry.’

She rose from the table.

‘Where are you going?’ he wanted to know.

‘To get the trifle.’

‘Is that all?’

‘For now.’