"Kenwood"
Weybridge, Surrey
January 1, 4:10 a.m.
John*
He stumbled into the the sun room and collapsed on the sofa. Nothing stood still and his head was already pounding. He should have just gone home with her but instead he was going to spend the night down here, on his own, curled up on shitty sofa he barely even fit on lengthwise.
"John?"
"I'm fine Cyn. Go back to bed." He mumbled face down into the one of the cushions. Christ. Why wasn't she asleep?
"You don't look fine...why don't you come upstairs?"
"I don't think so."
"Why not?"
"Why not? Because I'm going to wake up in the morning and you're going to be laying there in one of your little nightgowns barely covering your arse telling me to fuck off whenever I try to get near ya."
"Come on love, I just need a little more time..."
"I've given you plenty of bloody time."
He didn't have to look up at her - he felt it - that judgmental stare. He imagined her there, shaking her head at him in disappointment.
"That's not fair John...now come on...you can't stay down here all night."
"I said I'm alright!" He lifted his head to look at her. She was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed - ready for battle. It had been two weeks since the night he picked her up from Andrew's. They still hadn't had sex, not since the night of the wedding. He was trying to be understanding, sensitive to what she'd been through but he couldn't ignore his own needs either. He was ready to explode.
"I could have gone home with two women tonight y'know. Two of 'em. Real Brigitte types as well."
She gave him a look, "I really hate it when you get like this."
"Just bugger off will ya? Go back to bed."
"Fine. Goodnight." She threw the blanket she had brought down directly at him, walking off out of the sunroom and upstairs in a strop.
"Thanks luv!" He sighed heavily and threw his back against one of the pillows three times as he heard his - their - bedroom door slam.
He had behaved like a bastard, leaving her alone on New Year's Eve to go to a party in Central London. He had been drinking and smoking heavily all night, and had seriously considered not coming home at all. The only problem was that all he really wanted was to be with her - but because she "wasn't ready" he had decided to punish her. Leave her home while he went out to enjoy himself.
He got up and walked over to the bar, making himself another drink. No harm in having a night cap. Hopefully now he would sleep through the night. Alone. Again.
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"John...oh for Christ's sake..." He awoke to the sound of her voice and felt her gently shaking him into consciousness. The morning sun reflected off her face, warm and bright. He covered his eyes with his arm.
"Fuckin' 'ell...who left the bleedin' curtains open?"
"Never mind the curtains. I've made you a cup of tea and Dot's making you a bacon buttie...should help with the hangover."
"Thanks..." He pushed himself up against the arm of the sofa. "You're up early."
"I told you I had to go to the gallery today. No one will be there because of the holiday so it's a good time to pick up the rest of my things."
