Nobody Wants To Know Him

XXXII - A Day In The Life

Saturday 3rd March 1973
Liverpool, England
8.37am

Even though the curtains were drawn, daylight illuminated the room softly. The days were growing longer as we crept into spring, the frost slowly vanishing from the mornings, and in its place, a welcome dew graced the surrounding vegetation.

John's bed was comfortable, and I watched him as he slept peacefully, face turned towards me, mouth hanging open ever-so-slightly, one arm cradling me against him loosely. I gently brushed a stray hair away from his forehead, leaning forwards to plant a kiss against his nose, causing him to scrunch it fortuitously, still deep in slumber, basking in the golden light which glowed from outside. It was these moments of domestic bliss that I lived for.

Living with John was slowly becoming a routine I had adjusted to. Over the past week, everything had gone smoothly. It was difficult at first to get used to the sheer size of Kenwood in comparison to my rather humble when contrasted childhood home. I wondered just how lonely John got when he was alone in such a huge house.

In vain I tried to wriggle away from John's grasp, but he only tightened his arm against me. Whether that was unwittingly or not, I had no way of knowing; sometimes John would fake being asleep just to spend more time in bed with me, or other times he would be genuinely asleep but would still press himself up against me as if he was wide awake and fully conscious.

But I needed to get up. I needed the loo, and the cats needed feeding.

That was a major benefit of living with John - all his cats!

He had several cats, and now I had finally been able to meet them all and learn about all their different personalities. Their lifestyles were deeply rooted into John's routine and now they had weaved their way into mine, and they were welcome, of course.

Laying another small kiss to John's nose, I saw the corners of his lips turn up, indicating that he was, in fact, awake after all. I pressed my mouth to his forehead, then to his closed eyes, then moving down to his cheeks and sprinkling them all along until they met his mouth. He let out a soft sigh against my own, arms tightening their grip around my torso, pulling me in closer. I nuzzled my face into that spot where his jaw meets his neck, nose tickling at the slight stubble he had growing there.

As much as I would've liked to lay there with John, the cats would soon be scratching at the door, something neither of us would be very pleased with, so I pried his arms off of me, much to his dismay, and clambered out of bed, heading to the bathroom first to use the loo and brush my teeth, then downstairs to feed the demanding felines.

None of them were in sight, however, so I assumed they had gone out and just left some cat food in their bowls for them to devour whenever they pleased. John had probably gone back to sleep now, so I put off breakfast for a little while, waiting until he had properly awoken and come down, so I fixed myself a cup of tea, sitting up at the counter in the kitchen to skim through this week's paper - the last one John would receive from me as I was to be starting my new job as George's photographer in the coming week.

The curtains were still closed, so I opened them, mug of tea still in my hand, and admired the garden. The trees were still bare, but at the foot of the garden, or at least as far as my eyes could see, there was a small cluster of snowdrops, and a bit further up was a group of daffodils in bloom, a telling sign that winter was on its way out, and spring was slowly approaching.

_______

9.12am

I didn't have to wait much longer before John came downstairs, hair perfectly unkempt from sleep, a pair of baggy blue pyjama trousers which he had clearly thrown on hasitly hanging loosely from his hips, and a big yawn to accompany his appearance.