Wildfire ~ George Harrison

Chapter 12: The first of goodbyes

The next week, John moved out. He was finally moving in with his wife Cynthia. Before I left George on Saturday night, he invited me and Kath to the goodbye party they would throw for John. He promised me it wouldn't be as quiet of a party as their housewarming had been. They had invited more people now and yes, Kath and I were more than welcome to come. He underlined this by putting another letter in our post box.

My dear,

I can't wait to see you again. Remember, this Friday, John's party, our flat. That's the one across the hall. I'll be the guy longing to see you again. Please don't keep me waiting.

With love, George.

'I can't believe they're moving in together,' Kathleen huffed as she combed her long hair to get it as straight as she could. It had been the bane of her existence for as long as I had known her. She so desperately wanted straight hair, but her curls wouldn't let up. They were here and they were here to stay.

'Well, they are married,' I deadpanned. It appeared she didn't fully realise that one fact. 'They were going to move in together at some point.'

'I guess you're right,' she admitted. 'It's just strange, isn't it? Before I knew he was married, I thought he would be here for as long as the others are here.' Though I knew this was true, I had also noticed the lack of surprise when I told her he was moving out. She had known it already, someone had told her.

'I get that,' I agreed and I squinted my eyes to put a line of kohl around them. 'But he is married and he is moving out.'

I don't know if it was because I said that or if she suddenly realised why John was leaving, but she put down the comb and turned towards me, her face scrunched up and worried. 'Charlotte, I can't do this. She will be there, won't she? I can't face this woman now that I know she's married to the bloke I shagged.'

'Don't worry, Kathleen,' I told her, hoping that she would take anything from that, but knowing she probably wouldn't. 'You'll be fine. I'm with you, aren't I? If you need a pick-me-up, just come to me.'

She smiled a watery smile. 'I don't want to go, Char. Can't you go without me? Tell them I'm not feeling well and throwing my guts up in the toilet?' she offered, but I shook my head.

I knew she would do it for me, but she would also drag me out by my hair if she thought that was the right thing to do. To me, this sounded like a classic case of hair-grabbing needed. 'I'm not going to lie. I'll tell them you don't want to come?' I offered her, but that made her shake her head.

'Okay, fine. I'll come. You got me,' she relented, but I could see she wasn't fully in it yet. I wasn't sure if she ever was going to be, but at least it seemed like I could get her through the door. But I felt like I had to ask on.

'Kath?'

'Yes?' she countered and she picked up the kohl pencil I had put down to line her eyes some more. As if they weren't dark enough already.

'What's going on with you and John?' I just had to know. Last time we spoke about it, when she admitted that there had been something, I hadn't asked on but something had told me there was more than she had let on. It couldn't have been just one night. There must've been more.

'I told you,' she answered. 'We slept together on that first party, but that's that. Nothing more.' She said it with so much force, desperately trying to convince me, that she convinced me of the opposite.

'Just that once? Or did it happen more often?' I owed it to her as well to ask on, I knew that. She may not have wanted to talk about it, but she would've pestered me just the same.