Got To Be Good-looking ('cause he's so hard to see)

~42~

John

Have I just been dumped!?

I walked back to the empty cottage and took in the room, perhaps she left something, an excuse to come back ..... nup, nothing, the empty tomatoe sauce bottle doesn't count.

It was nice though, with her here. A woman always tends to make everything lighter, nicer, prettier unless the woman's a bitch of course and then all the above doesn't happen.

Sunshine on a cloudy day she is, was.

A woman that didn't push and prod, nark and nag, she was just equal, on the same page, well on the page I had let her see so far.

I need to plan...

I had a plan.

A plan to elicit an idea in her who I am, drop the hints, hope she pounces. But it's just too dumb. 

Sing- that was it, but doing that would be like spotlights glaring full and bright. Ripping the beard away would have the same effect. Both too quick and too deadly to contemplate.

Lennon's voice, the one and only.

I marched back, I'm sick of all this cloak and dagger shit. Well the pleasant feelings while making love to her in 'secret' seem to have us going at it hard and fast but that's not the point.

The point is.... would she shun me when she knows it's me.

The usual cocky bastard side of me is waning and turning into a frightened school girl.

Scared of the consequences, scared of the nasty put down; everyone knows I'm married, everyone knows I'm a prick, so in that vein, surely she knows all the Lennon crap too.

My reputation proceeds me in print, film and even fucking folklore.

So, what to do, light a smoke, count to ten, beg forgiveness before I do the big reveal and play spot the frown when she is let down finding out it's me.

Nah the school girl in me wants to push it away for another day yet again. Just visit today, just a few more minutes in her company.... before the bitter end.

"Knock, knock" I open the door without hesitation but stand on the threshold for her command.

"Entre"

Still at the kitchen table, still leaning over an empty page, still half a muffin in her hand and a whole one sat on the plate in the centre.

Turning the chair around I sit and lean over the back which is now the front. Finally looking up she smiles slightly, cupid's lips purse and ponder me.

"Am I forgiven?"

"Yeah, no problem" I point out the muffin. It smells divine, I'm nodded an ascent to eat. It's surprisingly good "This is ok"

"Yeah, I suck at bread, kick-arse with muffins though, who knew!" The smile creeps up and attacks me, rendering me mute. Slamming the journal shut she sits up and finishes the muffin. Tiny pieces broken off with fingers placing it gingerly in the mouth.

Nope, still mute.

Minutes pass as we eat and stare.

Finally, I grow some balls and a voice box again "Clare, I want to take my beard off but I'm frightened"

"Well that's silly, you know it doesn't hurt"

"But it might hurt you"

"It's just a cover, I know the book pretty well now, don't you think. Or should I read all the way to the end and not skip the boring bits?" There it is again the smile kind, open, untainted, yea untainted she seems untainted by massive heartbreak.