Johnathon’s Revelation and Stolid’s Downfall

“Well that’s not true,” Johnathon said indignantly. “I didn’t say that. He might have interpreted something I did as meaning that but I didn’t say it.”

Now Johnathon was awake it didn’t seem right to perch on the end of the bed and Timonthy took his cup to the window seat.

“Anyway Peter is not holding it against you,” he continued in case he had been harsh. “The last time I spoke to him he was talking about taking you wherever you wanted to go.”

Johnathon laughed bitterly.

“I have nowhere to go if we can’t be reconciled. The only place I call home at the moment is in Herron where Damon Ich, that’s what we call Stolid, lives.”

“If you had an alternative, a good alternative would you still want to be reconciled?” Timonthy asked thoughtfully. He couldn’t help pitying Johnathon now.

“If it was possible, I would. I didn’t mean this to happen.”

“You could always come back with us, the long way or the fast way,” Timonthy offered with a laugh.

“I have no money,” Johanthon said. “How could I live in your world? I’m dead in your world.“

“I’m sure that something can be arranged,” Timonthy said hopefully. “Peter does this sort of thing all the time by the sound of it, even if Stolid doesn’t want to get involved and even if they didn’t surely we could arrange something. The authorities can’t deny that you are there. They would have to acknowledge you at some point and they can’t send you anywhere as you don’t belong anywhere else.“

“Do you think I would have to live in an airport?” Johnathon brightened. “That doesn’t sound too bad.”

“You’re thinking about the duty free, aren’t you?” Timonthy frowned at him. This was too serious for levity, and yet that was when people needed the distraction of humour the most.

“Is there anything I can do to help you get back together?” Timonthy asked. “If Stolid comes back I mean.”

“I just need to talk to him, Timonthy. I don’t know what else I can do.”

“What do you think it was, that made him think you didn’t want him anymore?”

“He found out that I’d been sleeping with this other guy for a few years before I died,” Johnathon said with a shake of the head.

Timonthy was silent with shock. He hadn’t imagined anything like that. It seemed almost impossible and yet Johnathon was telling him that it was so.

“I thought that you loved Stolid too. You had us all fooled,” he said after a long pause.

“I did love him. I still love him. Not that I should have to justify myself to you but I was lonely and it just happened. I didn’t intend it to happen. I just didn’t stop it.”

“I’m not sure you’re going to be able to talk your way out of  this one,” Timonthy shook his head. He was frustrated. How could Johnathon have been so stupid? Now Stolid was insecure and single, roaming around the place with his perfected, though mature, body.

“You really are a little shit, Johnathon,” Timonthy said without rancour.

“To be fair, Timonthy, how would you know what it was like? You’ve never been in a relationship longer than a couple of years – was that how long we lasted?”

That stung. Timonthy was instantly transported back through the years to his teenage self: a boy with an inflated sense of his own importance, knowing that the world had ended, that his heart was broken and would never function again. It stripped back all the layers he had added to his defences over the years, left him bare and suddenly speechless.

“I’m sorry, Timonthy,” Johnathon said.  “You’re right, I’m a shit. I don’t even deserve your friendship never mind love from anyone.”

Timonthy repressed a chuckle and they both sat clutching their drinks without talking.

“I thought I’d got away with it. I thought he knew nothing but I was stupid,” Johnathon said. “Now I need to know is there any way back from here.”

“I know that Stolid’s avoiding you but it’s only been a day,” Timonthy said but he knew that Stolid had been gone for months probably.

That could be healthy if the months had been spent recovering from the blow, but not if he had been brooding: difficult to tell from his physical appearance. The desire for perfection could be motivated by the desire to move on or the desire for revenge.

“He almost killed me, you know,” Johnathon said reluctantly revealing secrets he wanted kept hidden.

“How do you mean?” Timonthy shook his head. “We were talking and I started to burn up. I almost passed out but then he seemed to realise and it stopped. He left after that as if he couldn’t contain his rage.”