JONATHON - Book 1 [Watty Awards 2012]

Chapter 6

Those few days that followed were among the most idyllic Bea had ever known. Jonathon, with the animal strength of the young, responded swiftly to her devoted ministering. She prepared him small delicious meals to eat throughout the day and evening; little and often to build up his strength. He rested and slept frequently, but daily took more exercise and on sunny days progressed out into the garden. She read often to him, or they sat and listened to light classical music. The other things he loved were board games and she brought out her old compendium of games. Cards, too and scrabble. He loved them all and especially loved to win. In the evenings they watched comedy shows and she loved to hear his rich deep laugh.

They began going for longer walks or drove to a picnic spot, well wrapped against the cold and the chance of anyone meeting them and recognizing him. And daily he was becoming more recognizable as his body filled out the hollows and lost the grey unhealthy pallor of his sickness. His skin was fresh and warm-toned, his cheeks glowing, his dark eyes sparkling and bright, his body lean and hard. Every time she looked at him, his beauty and vitality took her breath away. She was glad to see him so fit and well but knew that each day he progressed was a day sooner to her losing him and she could hardly bear the knowledge of the emptiness that would leave in her life, her heart.

He did still have the occasional nightmare and woke sweating and terror-stricken.  But she was always there to still his screams and soothe away his fears, wipe away his tears, hold him close and reassure and ease him back to sleep with the promise that everything was well, that nothing and no-one would harm him, that she wouldn’t leave him. It tore her heart that someone had hurt him so much that those fears still surfaced and tormented him when he was weak and vulnerable. She prayed for him daily and her prayers seemed to be being answered but life with Jonathon was never that straightforward and simple.

One morning he rose early from bed and scurried out of the room.

‘Sweetheart, are you alright?’

‘Gotta go, Bea.’ he said. ‘I’m fine.’ He reassured and patted his hand downwards for her to stay where she was.

He was gone longer than she liked but she knew he didn’t like her following him to the bathroom. She was about to get up in any case when he came in beaming, carrying a tray with her morning cup of tea.

‘Oh Jonny.’ she said, delighted.

‘I couldn’t manage breakfast….’ he began apologetically. ‘Not yet.’ with the promise that he would bring her breakfast in bed when he was up to it.

‘That is so sweet.’ she said.

He put the tray across her lap. There were two cups of tea and a plate of biscuits and a small gift wrapped parcel.

‘What’s this?’ she asked smiling.

‘For you.’ he said.

‘It’s not my birthday.’

‘It doesn’t have to be.’

‘How did you manage that?’ she wondered. 

‘Don’t scold.’ he pleaded. ‘I phoned David and he arranged it, and then I waited around to nab the postman.’

‘I thought you were up to something.’ she said, just to let him know that nothing escaped her. Not about him. He grinned like a naughty schoolboy.

‘Open it!’ he urged, pushing it towards her. She picked it up and unwrapped it; tears sprang to her eyes.

‘Oh Jonny…’ It was Chanel No.5 perfume.

‘Do you like it?’ he wanted to know.

‘It’s my favourite.’ she confirmed and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you.’ she said. ‘But perfume Jonny, that’s so expensive.’