Almost exactly a month later, Cynthia read that John and Yoko had permanently moved to New York. She didn’t expect to hear from him immediately after she left him in Paris, but they did have a child after all. It had been radio silence since that morning; he hadn’t even phoned for Julian.
She sat up in bed with a book and a glass of wine beside her on the nightstand. Glancing over at her sleeping husband, she sighed heavily and wondered how long they would last; things between them only continued to get worse. Conversation had become thin on ground and she’d grown tired of his childish view towards their finances. In her heart she knew it was a recipe for disaster.
“Mum?”
She looked up and saw Julian standing in their bedroom doorway. “Alright, love?” she whispered, looking to the clock before back to him. “It’s past 2 a.m.”
What on earth was he doing up at that hour?
“Dad’s on the phone.” He said, rubbing his sleepy eyes. “I rang him in New York.”
“Julian,” she sighed, looking to Roberto once more as she maneuvered herself out of bed, careful not to wake him. Throwing on her dressing gown, she walked over to her son, scooting him out into the hallway and closing the door behind her. “What are you on about?”
“Dad said to ring him whenever I fancied, so I did.”
“How did you get his phone number?”
“He rang last week, when you were visiting Phyllis.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“He told me not to. It was the first time he phoned and I was afraid he wouldn’t ring again if I told you.”
Her poor lad. He was the real victim in all of this.
“It’s alright, love, but what are you doing awake?”
“I couldn’t sleep. He should have rang to wish you a happy birthday.” He crossed his arms and pouted.
“Daddy’s very busy in New York. You know that.” She hated making excuses, and hoped he hadn’t been cross with Julian for calling that early in the morning.
“He wants to talk to you.”
She assumed he was angry; Julian had probably woken him. She swallowed hard, nervously. It would be the first time she spoke to him since they made love, since she left him in Paris.
“This is mad. Go back to sleep and we’ll talk about this in the morning.” She began walking with him back to his bedroom.
“Are you going to talk to Dad?”
“I suppose I have to now. Which phone?”
“Sitting room,” he muttered, walking into his room. “Night mum.”
“Goodnight,” she sighed.
She walked slowly toward the sitting room, silently begging the gods to make him hang up. He never did have any patience. He’d be tired and irritated having been woken up so early. Cynthia hoped he had decided to go back to bed and that she would hear nothing but a dial tone when she picked up the phone.
“Cyn?”
No such luck.
“Hi.” Her heart was racing; she felt herself begin to lose her breath. It was so good to hear his voice. “I’m sorry if Julian woke you. I know it’s still early in the morning there and I..”
“It’s fine. I’ve been gettin’ up a lot earlier recently anyway. You might even say I’m growin’ up. How was yer birthday, then?”
Julian must have put him up to this.
