Jas and Tom
One

She fell in love with her best friend.
Jas had always dreamed of the ideal wedding. The perfect dress, walking into the
beautiful Georgian church that her grandmother had been married in half a century ago.
The rows of guests watching in smiling admiration. All that was missing from her
fantasy was the man standing beside her. Jas had known from her childhood that she
would find him one day. She never dreamt that Tom would be the one. Now, it seemed
that she had missed her chance.
Tom had lived three doors down on the terrace from Jas. Their fathers had worked
together in the fire station, and Jas and Tom liked nothing better than to ride up front
with the sirens blazing and their fathers’ helmets hanging low over their young brows.
Growing up in the suburbs of London, Jas had been Tom’s friend through many years
of schooling. Jas had remained friends with Tom as each of them had experimented in
the usual vices of childhood. Tom had listened, sometimes reluctantly to Jas’
recounting of her troubles with boys, but had appreciated when Jas reciprocated the
favour.
At times drifting closer, at others further apart, but always providing the reliability of
lifelong friendships, Tom had been the first to move away. Accepting a place at
Cambridge, Tom had embarked upon his desired path to the law, while Jas had
remained in London to attend art college. It was the first time they had been more than
a few houses apart in their lives, but they kept each other informed of how their futures
were progressing. Tom had been woken in the early hours on more than one occasion
with a crying phone call from Jas, her boy troubles continuing with remarkable
consistency.
It was the week after her split from the man she thought was the love of her life that Jas
began to realise her feelings for Tom had changed. Where before she had seen him
as simply a friend, someone she could rely on when other men were causing her strife,
now Tom seemed appealing in an entirely different dimension. At first she had put it
down to the fact that Tom was the first to comfort her when she had broken up finally
with Simon. He had slept around one too many times, and Jas had shown him the
door. Tom was there the following weekend, and together they drank and cried away
Jas’ unhappy memories.
Waking up the next morning in the same room, indeed, in the same bed, Jas turned to
see the sleeping figure of a man next to her. She had waited there for long minutes
trying to imagine what it would feel like to wake up next to Tom every morning. His
strong shoulders moved gently with his breathing, and Jas reached out a hesitant hand
to touch them. She had barely laid a finger on him when Tom stirred. Turning to face
Jas, Tom smiled kindly.
“How ya feeling kid?” he said, forming a grin with his almost perfect teeth. His hair had
been sent in many directions, none of which seemed to be right, but somehow it made
him more appealing to Jas. She stayed facing him for a moment, then returned his
smile. Her make up was in need of replacing, her hair was a tangled mess, but none of
these things mattered to Jas this morning. Normally she was the keenest student of
cosmetics, and Tom often grumbled playfully about Jas’ over stuffed hand bag.
However, this morning, as she gazed into the deep brown eyes of her childhood friend,
she felt he could see her in any state, and would never judge her. Perhaps she was
beautiful to him, Jas could not say, but no matter what, it felt so comfortable for her that
she could not imagine the moment ending.
But moments end all the time.
“Jas, you lost the power of speech or something?” Tom said, raising himself up on one
arm.
Jas realised she had left the question unanswered, and offered a nervous laugh to try
to disguise her moment of clarity.
“No, I’m fine Tom,”  she said, sitting up herself. She pulled the cover close around her
and she tucked her knees up to her chin. Tom remained sprawled out, lying fully
clothed on top of the duvet.
“Did last night sort out anything?” he asked, his gaze never leaving Jas’ face. What did
he see there, Jas thought.
“Well, I guess so, it certainly made me feel better than I had been.”
Tom laughed, pushing himself to a sitting position so he faced Jas cross-legged. His
grin was mischievous.
“But did it help you in the Simon matter at all?”
“I think it’s a step in the right direction,” Jas said, finding it difficult to meet Tom’s gaze.
“Hard to say how long it’s going to take though.”
“I know what you mean, once it took me four days to get over a girl, I was a wreck.”
Jas laughed, pushing Tom on the shoulder playfully.
“I remember, and how long had you two been together?”
Tom looked wistfully over Jas’ shoulder, holding up fingers to count on.
“By my reckoning, it was seven…”
“That long?”
“…weeks of course, I didn’t think I could risk stretching it to a whole two months.”
Jas smiled more broadly now, as she met Tom’s stare for a fraction of a moment. Still
she felt unable to gauge what was behind his impenetrable eyes.
“Oh Tom, I was with Simon for nearly a year. I’m not sure if it’s quite the same thing! I
don’t think you can compare with that. And will you ever be able to, I mean, are you ever
going to get a proper girlfriend?”
Jas flashed a hopeful glance as she asked the question, but if there was anything that
betrayed Tom’s feelings, she could not detect it.
“I think that depends on whether I ever have the right girl ask me,” he said, stretching
his legs and lifting his arms high above his head. “But then again, I guess you’re free
now…”
Jas’ pulse raced as she saw Tom inch a hand towards her leg, then dropped as he
just gave her a light tap. She smiled politely and nodded.
“Right Tom, right.”
Tom lay back down, and reached for the television remote. Jas watched him in quiet
frustration for a moment, then lay down beside him.
The two friends enjoyed each other’s company while watching Sunday television. All the
while, one of them was apparently unaware that the line between platonic relationship
and something more had been crossed by the other. Jas wondered how she could
bring Tom across the gaping divide.


Two

Jas slowly ambled her way downstairs, an old t-shirt that was three sizes too big for her
draped over her shoulders. She yawned extravagantly as she rounded the corner to
enter the kitchen, too small for a house the size of hers, but there was little she could
do about it. After all, she thought, it will be enough for the rest of my last year. That
thought, while in theory welcome, frightened Jas immeasurably. The real world
beckoned beyond the protective cocoon of university life. It had seemed to Jas that her
life had been a constant progression from safe bubbles that expanded slowly as she
grew older. From being driven by her mum or Tom’s dad to primary school to the fun
that could be had on the walk to high school. Eventually she passed on to driving
herself to school, and Tom on more than one occasion as his inability and complete
refusal to drive was somewhat close to legendary. Even in his more advanced years,
and with two-thirds of a university education behind him, the prospect of getting behind
the wheel of a car filled him with immense dread. Some of life’s bubbles are slower to
expand, Jas decided, as she sat down at the wooden table, watching Tom’s back as he
worked on the stove. If he noticed Jas’ entrance, he betrayed no sign of it. Jas stared at
him for a lingering moment, before letting out an involuntary sigh. At the noise, Tom
turned his head halfway round, and glimpsed his friend sitting at the table.
“Hey you decided to make it down,” he said, returning to concentrate on his culinary
exploits. “I thought you were going to sleep there all day.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time Tom,” Jas said, resting her head sleepily on the table. She
raised it quickly and realised the table had not been cleaned from the previous night’s
activities. Her left cheek and strands of hair were slick with a substance she decided
not to determine.
“Oh, Jas, I’ve cleaned up the glasses, but I’ve not got round to the table yet,” Tom said.
“You might want to steer clear of it for a while.”
Jas shook her head, wiping at her face with the sleeve of her night shirt.
“Yeah, thanks for the info Tom.”
Tom uttered a quiet expression of satisfaction as he finished working the frying pan. He
looked around the cluttered work tops in a futile attempt to locate some clean dishes.
Scratching his head, he turned to Jas with a hopeful glance.
“There might be some in my cupboard, third from the left.”
“Okay,” Tom checked the cupboard, and extracted two reasonably clean pieces of
china. He scraped the contents of the frying pan onto the plates, and then placed one in
front of Jas with a certain flourish.
“Et voila, le petit dejeuner pour Mademoiselle Verte,” Tom’s French could have been
better, but it brought a laugh from Jas, still trying to clean her face and hair. There was
no getting away from it, she would just have to take a long shower. Alone, she thought a
touch reluctantly. Looking up at Tom’s face, she realised how proud he felt at finishing
a meal. It was nothing more complicated than a Sunday brunch, but it was time and
effort spent on something for both of them. Jas wondered whether it would be the first
of many.
Offering a small bow, Tom placed glasses of orange juice before Jas’ place and his
own, then took a seat on the corner next to her. He took several bites and smiled.
“It’s edible, which is always a good start,” he said.
Jas, taking smaller bites, smiled.
Tom ate on for a moment, then looked at his friend. Jas’ expression was intended to
show merely the after affects of a night out, but Tom saw something deeper.
“Is everything okay Jas? You still beat up over the whole Simon thing?”
Jas finished her mouthful, took a sip of her drink, then locked eyes with Tom. He was
taken aback by her directness, and set down his own forkful.
“No Tom, it’s not that,” she began, her eyes never leaving Tom’s. “Well, sure, I’m not
pleased about it, but, well, you see…” she trailed off, and finally broke the staring match.
“Jas, whatever it is that’s bothering you, you can tell me, we’ve known each other since
we were yay high,” he held up a hand to the table’s height, trying to get a smile from
Jas. Her eyes became focused on a point ten inches inside the table.
“It’s just that Tom, I think, I think -” she risked facing him again, but despite his
concerned expression and kind eyes, she could not sound the words her heart was
screaming for release. “I think it’s time I gave up men.”
Tom smiled, and took Jas’ hand.
“Hey Jas, don’t make any rash decisions chum, it’d be a great loss for a lot of chaps out
there. You’ve just been hurt in a really serious way, so you’re gonna feel like crap for a
while. But it’ll get better, it has to.”
Jas tried to give Tom a smile, and while she did believe his words, she could not
believe her own. She decided that it was not the right time, it was best to give him her
best impression of ‘Happy Jas.’ Well, ‘Happy as Jas can be after breaking up with her
long term boyfriend and now realising the one person she can confide in is the person
she wants to be her new long term boyfriend but is unable to say the right words to.’
That was more like it, but Happy Jas would have to suffice.
“You’re right Tom, you’re right.”
Tom left his chair to put his arm around Jas. As he did so, she began to weep, though
she did not think Tom knew the real reason for her sorrow.
Jas could only hope that soon she could explain the truth to him.

Three

It was eleven thirty, and after a long shower that allowed the pains of the previous night
dissipate slightly from her head, Jas felt almost human. Still, it was a Sunday and a
long standing resolution forbade the young lady from getting dressed in the a.m.
Therefore as she came down the stairs, past the deep snoring sounds of her house
mate Teri, she greeted the sofa slouching Tom in her purple silk dressing gown. The
fact that she had bought it not long into her relationship with Simon grated on her
nerves a touch, but she bore the pain with remarkable poise.
Tom was dressed now, a shower deemed unnecessary on a Sunday morning away
from home, and watching some mind-numbing soap opera.
“You should really get digital you know,” he murmured as Jas sat down on the chair
opposite him. “I don’t know how you can put up with this junk.”
“Well, I guess I always had Simon’s place to go to if I wanted to watch some TV,
besides, isn’t this what Sundays mornings are made for?”
Tom laughed, stretching his legs out fully and giving a half-hearted yawn.
“You do realise that’s a lot later than I’ve been used to staying up recently?” Tom said,
turning his head away from the latest tribulations of the model-slash-actor on the
screen.
“Sorry if I kept you up,” Jas replied with a mischievous smile.
“No, it’s fine really, just means I’m going to be tired on the train back. No big deal.”
“And what time are you going back again?”
Tom looked down at his watch, lying on the living room table. He let out a small sigh.
“In forty minutes, I really should get going. Just had to wait for someone to finish with
the bathroom,” he shot a little glance back at Jas. She made a face and lifted her arm
towards the stairs.
“Well, it’s all yours now,” she said.
With a smile, Tom dragged himself off the sofa, and gave Jas a gentle pat on the head
as he passed her. When he had disappeared up the stairs, Jas shook her head and
cast a longing glance after him. I have to tell him, she thought, otherwise I’ll go crazy.
But how to do it?
The walk to the station was shared silence. Neither particularly enjoyed the ritual, but
both accepted it as necessary. “Parting is such sweet sorrow” as some wiser head had
noted, but to Jas it never seemed to be sweet. Sorrowful it certainly was, knowing that
Tom was going to leave her, and she could never know for sure when he would be
coming back. Perhaps if she said something now, he would not go. She would not
have to face the rest of the day alone. Of course she could call her friends, share her
miseries, but this was a misery that could not be shaken. It was a gnawing doubt at
first, but had grown into an emptiness that nothing could fill for long.
The side road turned onto a larger street, Jas noted they were only five minutes from
the station. The March wind was blowing in from the north, but that was not what was
causing a chill to pervade Jas’s bones. She opened her mouth to speak again, but
again no words came out. Eventually, feeling Tom’s eyes regarding her in
bemusement, she smiled at him meekly, swinging her arms in what she hoped
passed for playful style.
They entered the station, taking a familiar underground passage to Tom’s platform. The
train was already waiting. No time for a lengthy goodbye, thought Jas, probably for the
best. Tom turned slowly to Jas, looking down into her gentle blue eyes. Jas returned
the smile that Tom offered, all the while trying to ignore the voice shouting at her to say
something.
“Well, you’d better get on.” That was not what she had heard the voice telling her, but
then perhaps listening to voices was a sure sign of madness.
“Yeah,” Tom said quietly. “You sure you’re going to be okay now?”
No. “I’ll be fine, Tom,” Jas said, hoping Tom could not sense the distaste with which
she spoke the words. “Let me know when you get back.”
“I will.” Tom stretched his arms around Jas and hugged her close. “You know where I
am if you need me.”
Jas tried to reply, but ended up just nodding her head. Tom disengaged from the
embrace, and with a final look at Jas, he turned and stepped onto the train.
Jas took a few steps back, and watched while Tom found a seat by the near window.
Whistles sounded moments later, and the train doors closed. The separation was
irreversible now, Jas thought sadly. She did not take her eyes from Tom as the train
began pulling away. He smiled and waved as Jas walked slowly down the platform.
The last sight Jas saw was Tom’s face disappearing out of view.
She was alone.

Four

Two months passed.
Jas flitted between bouts of melancholy and sheer unhappiness, unsure of what she
should be feeling. Tom seemed to be endlessly busy with his studies, and was not
able to visit her.

Last update - April 21, 2004


Hom-UHT Publishing
By Christopher P Bartlett
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