Chapter 8

Jon looked at Sara, bewilderment in his blue eyes.

“I don’t believe this.” he muttered, looking down at the cellphone. “I think my wife’s cheating on me.”

To his shock, Sara laughed. Quietly, to be sure, but she actually laughed at him. As he snapped his head around to stare at her, Sara spoke, not entirely unsympathetically.

“Come on, Jon. Don’t act so damn betrayed - it’s certainly not like you’re as pure as the driven snow, is it?”

“I know that, but it’s just…..well, she’s……..”

“She’s what? Your wife? The mother of your children? So does that mean she’s not allowed to live her own life?”

“I don’t fucking believe this! You’re on her side?!”

Sara’s voice softened, “I’m not on anybody’s side. I just think you’re being unreasonable about this. First off, you don’t actually know she’s cheating, and second, just look at yourself. You’re acting all hurt and deceived, yet you’ve just had sex with me, so who’s cheating on who?”

Scowling, Jon leapt off the couch and threw on his jeans and boots. His Soul t shirt was lying in a puddle in the shower, so he just grabbed one of the shirts Sara had given him for the photos.

“Jon?”

“I just don’t fucking believe this!” he repeated.

He ignored Sara as he stormed out of the studio, slamming the door closed and heading down the stairs. His rage made him clumsy, and halfway down the stairs his boot slipped on a step, and he almost fell. The effort of catching his balance aggravated an old back injury, and the pain shooting down his spine stopped Jon in his tracks, forcing him to sit on the cold stairs. The sudden blinding agony also flushed the angry fog from his brain, and he began to think coherently for the first time since he’d heard another man’s voice answer his wife’s phone. His common sense began to prevail, and he quickly realised that Sara had been absolutely right. He’d just cheated on Dot - and not for the first time - yet he was acting like the innocent party. He buried his face in his hands for a moment, but he knew that he had to go back up and apologise to Sara. Right now.

Jon trudged back up the staircase, the pain in his back forcing him to clutch the handrail. It was a long time, he thought, since he’d really apologised to anyone for his behaviour, and he hesitated briefly before knocking quietly on the studio door. No answer. Well, he knew she was in there, because there was only one way out. Jon knocked again, a little louder, then softly called her name.

“Sara? C’mon babe - I know you’re there. Sara, I’m sorry.”

Still no response, but Jon was sure he heard movement inside, close to the door. He tried again.

“Sara - I guess your friend was right - I am a prick, but I’m also truly sorry for the way I just acted. I took it out on you because you were there. What you said? You were right.” His voice trailed away as he searched for something - anything - else to say. “Sara?”

Now he definitely heard movement behind the door, then the welcome sound of the lock being released and the door was slowly opened. Sara looked out at him, her eyes reddened, and he guessed she’d been crying in the few minutes since he left. She was dressed once again, the denim shorts half hidden under the white shirt he’d worn earlier.

Jon made to speak, but felt another bolt of pain ripple through his back, and he grabbed at the door frame to keep on his feet.

“Jon? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Sara sounded worried, and Jon felt her soft hand on his face. “You’re white as a sheet!”

“I’m okay” he forced the words out through gritted teeth “I just jarred my back on the stairs. One of the penalties of getting older.” he tried to joke, but Sara was having none of it.

“Come in and sit down” she ordered, sliding under his upraised arm to help support him. She helped him across to the armchair, struggling a little under his weight, and sat him down before returning to close the door. Hunting in her bag, Sara found a blister strip of painkillers, bringing them over to Jon.

“Are you on any meds?” she asked, and he shook his head gently, trying not to move too much. “Not allergic to anything?” she persisted.

“No.”

“Okay - take these” she handed him two pills along with her can of coke to wash them down. “Is it your lower back that’s the problem?”

A careful nod.

Sara quickly moved the low table away from the couch, and stacked both seat cushions together. She got Jon off the armchair and onto the floor in front of the couch, carefully manoeuvring his legs until he lay with his calves on the doubled cushions, the backs of his thighs pressed to the front of the couch and his back flat on the floor. He tried to turn his head to the side, to speak to Sara, but she stopped him.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me later. Just lie straight and relax.” she instructed, and he obeyed, gradually feeling his back muscles relaxing. Sara stayed by him until the pained lines faded from his face, then waited until he’d fallen asleep, as she normally did if she lay in this position.

Checking her watch, Sara rose quietly and moved over to her worktable, carrying the memory card from her camera. She worked in silence, loading all of the photos onto her PC, then scrolling through them, making notes on a pad as she selected the photos she’d present to the magazine. Glancing at her watch again as she finished, she found that just over an hour had passed, and she decided to wake Jon. He hadn’t moved an inch, and she knelt beside him, stroking his hair back as she quietly said his name. Opening his eyes, Jon was touched by the concern he saw on Sara’s pretty face.

“Hey” he breathed “Did I fall asleep?”

“Mmm. Usually happens when you lie like that.”

He began to move, to get up.

“Whoa. Take your time.” Sara told him, helping him slowly get onto his side, then over onto his knees, and finally helping him to stand.

“How are you feeling now?”

“Actually” Jon carefully flexed his back “I feel pretty good. My back doesn’t really hurt at all now. What were those pills?”

“Just painkillers, but they’re pretty strong. I get them on prescription.”

“Well, thank you Sara.” Jon said sincerely. “After the way I stormed out of here, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d just pushed me down the stairs!”

“I wouldn’t do that - you were upset, and I wasn’t being exactly sympathetic. I probably asked for it.”

“Yeah, but you were right. Don’t get me wrong - I don’t regret a single thing between us, but I just never thought Dot would be unfaithful. Guess I sound like everybody who finds out their partner’s cheated, huh?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Sara said truthfully, then changed the subject. “What did you do to your back?”

“Oh, it hurts off and on, but I was so damned angry that I slipped on the stairs and jarred myself, and that brought it on. Where did you learn that lying on the floor trick? Really seems to work.”

“I’ve had back trouble for years, which is why I have those pills. I was shown that position years ago, and I’ve always found it works for me.”

Jon was pacing back and forth as they talked, trying to gauge if there was any lingering pain in his back. Sara put her couch back together and pulled the table back in, then sat down on the armchair.

“Are you going to be okay to drive?” She asked, and Jon thought for a second.

“You know, I probably shouldn’t. I’ve been drinking - only a few beers, but I’d hate to get stopped - plus those pills you gave me. I’ll probably be best to call a cab.”

“I could drive you, if you’d like.” Sara offered, but Jon shook his head.

“Don’t be silly. I can’t ask you to do that - it’s way across the other side of the city, and at this time of day…..no, I’ll get a cab.”

“Well, if you’re sure. What about your car?”

“If it’s okay, I’ll just leave it here. I could pick it up tomorrow.”

“And maybe it’ll still have all it’s wheels.” Sara joked, then giggled at the worried look on Jon’s face. “I’m kidding! I’ve never had any problems around here. It’ll be fine, and I’ll be here tomorrow morning, so I can check on it for you.”

Jon came over to the armchair, and reached down to take Sara’s hand. She stood up, to stop him bending too far, and Jon hugged her tenderly.

“Thank you.” he said simply.

“For what?”

“For being honest enough to tell me what you thought. An awful lot of people would have just agreed with me about Dot, because of who I am.”

“Well, I’m not an awful lot of people.” Sara said, making Jon smile.

“Ain’t that the truth.” He squeezed her tightly, then slowly let her go. “I’d better call that cab. I need to go home and see what’s going on.”

He made the call, arranging to be picked up in a few minutes, then turned to Sara again.

“Do you want to give me your phone number? I’ll call here tomorrow when I come for the car, see if you’re in.”

Sara found a card on the worktable, which listed her studio and cell numbers, and Jon thrust it into his back pocket before heading for the door.

“Jon! What about your t shirt?”

“Keep it!” He said with a smile. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Bye.”

“Bye.” Sara echoed softly as he left. She stood for a long time, looking at the closed door, then tiredly began to tidy up the studio. There was still a lot of work to be done before she could head home.