Missing You...

Chapter Fifteen

Sunday, 7th December 1980

John and Paul stayed together all weekend. They didn't leave the apartment during that time period. They had other things on their minds. John was lying on the bed, fast asleep, on Sunday morning. The previous night had been another exciting loving session, but it had left the two lovers exhausted and stupefied. Paul was snuggled deep under the covers, breathing deeply with John's strong arms wrapped around him. The room was so silent only the steady ticking of the clock on the wall could be heard.

Suddenly...

RING RING RING!

John shot upwards, practically rolling right out of the bed. He came up with the sheets cloaking his face so he was blinded for several seconds. He tore away the tangled bedclothes, seized his Buddy Holly glasses from the bedside table, shoved them on and blinked rapidly as everything suddenly shifted into focus.

RING RING RING!

Paul seemed to be completely deaf to the ringing phone and the commotion John was making. He carried on sleeping peacefully, the duvet pulled right up to his nose. John gazed longingly at his lover and reached out to stroke his long, bedraggled locks. Paul purred as John's fingers slowly caressed his hair, mumbling short, sexy words under his breath. John smirked in amusement.

RING RING RING!

"Bloody hell!" John cried, flinging himself out of the bed. 

"What's wrong, Johnny?" Paul groaned from under the covers.

"That damn phone doesn't know when to shut up." John shoved his feet into a pair of fluffy bedroom slippers and covered himself with his silk Japanese dressing gown. "That better not be another solicitor. I've had enough calls from them to last a lifetime."

Paul didn't respond. He'd fallen asleep again, his chest slowly rising and falling as he breathed. John shook his head fondly at him then ducked into the hallway to answer the demands of the telephone. He caught it on its final ring. 

"Hello?" John said wearily, rubbing his stubble-ridden face.

"Hello?" said a soft female voice. John didn't reply straight away; he was trying to work out who the voice belonged to. It didn't sound familiar. He tried running through the list of all the women he knew, attempting to match the voice to the speaker. He was so tired that he couldn't force his brain to function properly and just stood in silence for several seconds.

"I'm sorry." the voice said anxiously. "I must have the wrong number."

"Wait." said John, snapping out of his sleepy state. "Who is this?"

"Serenity. Serenity Harrison."

John didn't understand at first, but then his eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He gripped the phone with both hands, steadying himself against the wall. He felt his legs would give out and let him crash to the floor if he did otherwise. John calmed down, cleared his throat, and whispered excitedly into the receiver.

"Serenity?"

"Yes?"

"Is it really you?"

"It's your very own Reeny, Unca John-John." Serenity lisped in a little girly voice, then she burst out laughing. "Hi, Uncle John."

"Reeny! I mean, Serenity! How are you, darling?" John cried, practically bursting into song.

"I'm wonderful." Serenity replied. She seemed to have relaxed and was speaking more casually, as if she'd just rang up to say hello. She had rang up to say hello, and John couldn't have felt happier.