𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 | dealor

the first telephone call

John looked down at the letter with wide eyes. Every single part of him wanted to call up his new found friend, but the nerves were eating away at him the longer he scanned his eyes along the line of numbers Roger attached to the end of the letter.

"Nonna?" He called out from the kitchen. "How expensive are phone calls to England?"

John's grandmother strolled out of her bedroom and turned to face her blushing grandson.

"Why do you ask, mio caro?" The woman in her early 60s answered.

John's grandmother, Norma, was a loving woman with thin gangly legs and a cheerful rosy smile. Her hair was turning white as each day passed signifying her age. John loved her endlessly and would always be eternally grateful for her love and affection. He could go to her for anything, there was no need to be ashamed. She even knew he was gay.

"Nonna, I'm so sorry."
"What for, my love?"
"I'm gay. I'm sorry."
"Oh moi caro, I am so so proud of you."

Of course there was more to that conversation but the fact that she didn't even bat an eyelid made John's anxiety melt away.

"I have a friend." John answered. "In England. He gave me his telephone number on his latest letter and I was just wondering if it would cost you a lot?"

His nonna Norma nodded her head slowly with a knowing look upon her round face.

"Aha." She finally said. "Is this friend just a friend or...?"

"Nonna!" John gasped with a dazzling smile. "Of course he's just a friend!"

"You like him though, don't you, topolino?"

There was no point in lying to his nonna. She knew everything. She was a very smart lady, nothing could get past her.

John didn't even know what he felt for Roger. It was crazy, really. After only a short amount of letters and John already found himself falling deeper and deeper into the hole that was Roger. He was gradually become infatuated with the blonde and the thought of hearing his voice instead of just seeing his written words made John's heart speed up just a tad.

And so, he answered. "I don't know. He's lovely, nonna, he really is. But we've only exchanged a few letters, it's too soon to like him."

"Nonsense!" The elder woman cried. "I fell in love with your nonno the moment I laid eyes on him in that little cramped café."

John chuckled. He had never met his nonno. He had died before he was born.

"Was nonno handsome?" John wondered, and the dreamy look in his grandmother's eyes answered it for him.

"Oh, yes. He was gorgeous, your lovely nonno. Is your friend handsome, dear?"

John flushed and nodded bashfully. "Yes." Norma laughed and wrapped her arm around her grandson's shoulders. "We sent each other pictures of ourselves. He is very pretty."

The two of them stood in a soft embrace for a while, Norma thinking of James, her late husband, and John thinking of Roger. The Roger he was supposed to call.

"Calls to the UK cost around €5 per hour, not that expensive my love. Go call him."

And so he did.

"Hello, is this Roger?"

When John had finally built up the courage to phone up the blonde beauty, it was almost three hours after his chat with his nonna.

"Yes, speaking. Who's this?" The voice on the other end of the line replied. It was husky and sexy and John felt his heart speed up.

"Roger... hi...it's John. John Deacon? We write letters to each other.. you might have forgotten me so..."