JONATHON - Book 1 [Watty Awards 2012]

Chapter 27

The flight to Ireland went well. It helped that there was a group of cast and crew aboard. Bea still pretended to be frightened of flying and Jonny was his usual caring, attentive self, but before his peers he had to be the alpha male; his ego and his acting talent set him above the rest. He was the star, he was the centre of attention and he was in his element. Only Bea knew his terror and she would never, ever betray him.

He was able to keep up the façade until they had left all the others at the hotel, even in the taxi. It was not until they entered his mother’s house that the cracks began to show and he began to crumble.

He closed the door behind him and all the memories came flooding back, the echoes of the past. He hadn’t realized that he was waiting for his mother’s voice to call his name like she always had when he had walked through her door. And she never would again. Too late he tried to catch back the sob. It hurt so much. Bea enveloped him and he couldn’t hold her close enough.

‘It’s alright, my darling.’ She told him softly. He trembled and shook against her. ‘It’s alright, sweetheart.’

‘I want you, Bea.’ He told her hoarsely. She stiffened only momentarily but he felt it. ‘God forgive me.’ he begged; that he should feel that here, now. ‘But I can’t help it. I need you. I want you. Now!’

But she understood. He had to feel life; he had to bring life to this desolate, lifeless place. He knew she did not want to make love with him in his dead mother’s house, but they had to lay that ghost. They had to.

She looked around the hall and saw the stairs. She took his cold, trembling hand and walked across to them.

‘I’m sorry, Bea. I’m sorry.’

She turned to him and kissed his pale, tremulous lips. ‘Hush.’ She said softly. ‘Ssshh. Ssshh.’ And she led him upstairs. She stood undecidedly before the doors. ‘Not in your mother’s room Jonny. Not in her bed….’

‘No! No, no,no,no. No.’ He led her past the first door and stopped at the second. She looked in. ‘It….it’s the guest room.’ He assured her and tugged her inside. He knew how uncertain she was.

‘Please….’ he whispered. ‘Please.’ His face was so pale, his eyes were like bruises. He had so much pain and only she could take it away.

She kissed him deeply and felt him moan. She took off his jacket, his tie and suddenly he was tearing her clothes from her. He was rough and demanding thinking that any moment she would resist him, but she didn’t. And then he knew he didn’t have to be. She loved him. She wasn’t going to stop him, tell him no and he became tender and gentle.

‘I love you.’ he said as he picked her up and carried her to the bed. She reached back and drew the covers aside; he slid her between them and crawled in beside her.

‘May I?’ he whispered and she knew that if she said no he would respect that. He was desperate for her, he needed her so much but he would not make her. He loved her.

‘Yes.’ She told him.

She thrust away the memory of his mother’s disapproval and disgust. All she cared about was Jonny. That beautiful, tortured young man who loved and needed her so much. He was the only thing in the world that mattered to her and she adored him.

‘I want you, sweetheart.’ she reassured, drawing him in. ‘I want you so much.’ And she did.

‘Bea!’ he cried her name in joy, in gratitude, in love. ‘Oh, darling Bea!’

The cold, silent house was silent no more. It rang with their sounds of love, which became triumph and joy and laughter.

He lifted up and looked down into her happy, smiling face.