CHAPTER FIVE

For a long time neither man spoke.  Jonathon had very slight pins and needles up his arm but he didn’t want to move it. Worried that the man nestled into his neck might think he wants to leave or is looking at his watch to check the time. Although he had no idea what time it was and would have quite liked to know.  Having nothing on today though he resisted the urge to then look at his watch and just go with it.  This stranger needed to not be alone right now.  He became aware at that moment that he couldn’t actually feel his fingers.

For all the time they’d been sitting there on the beach, the man hadn’t muttered a word to him since they settled in this position.  Every now and then he would sob for moment, just a moment.  The force of the sobbing would reverberate through Jonathon’s and he would hold him that little bit tighter.  It would be followed by a few breaths, as if trying to control the emotion, somehow stopping himself from having one big outburst.  

Jonathon realised he didn’t know the name of the man, nor the man know his, and yet he felt surprisingly no awkward about the situation he was in right now.   He had never put his arm around an unknown man before, there would have to have been the minimum of one drink purchased for him for that to happen!  He wasn’t even sure why he was holding him.  To comfort him?  To make sure he didn’t walk back in to the sea again?  He was surprised when the man came over and sat beside him.  He was surprised that he, without a second thought, put his arm around the man and pulled his head on to his shoulder.  He was even more surprised that the man allowed that to happen without any fight.  It wasn’t until the mans head rested though that he really felt the pain in him, the sadness.  The moment that happened he knew he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, let go.

The moments of sobbing came and went, sometimes one or two, occasionally it went on for longer.  But it was always brought purposefully to a stop with the intakes of breath.  Each time though he could feel the release in the man.  How his body had slowly begun to relax, the muscles soften, the man became heavier on him.  At one point he was sure the man had fallen asleep on him, just a for a minute or so, he became heavier and marshmallowy, almost absorbing Jonathon’s shoulder as he sank into him. 

Right now though there was silence. It felt like it had been a while since there had been any movement at all.

Perhaps he should say something?  He didn’t want to be the first to speak thought.  It didn’t feel like the first sound should be him somehow.

But perhaps he should. 

And then the sobbing started again.  A sudden judder from the stranger, but just one before the breathing started.  Three deep breaths and it was all over again.

He should say something.  He took a breath.  Nothing came out.  What to say?

The man clearly sensed Jonathon’s hesitation to speak, and without moving his head he said “You probably need to be somewhere.  I’m holding you up.”  Once again, more of a statement than a question.

“No, I’m fine.  I have no plans today at all.”

“Oh.”

The man suddenly sat up.  Jonathon let his dead arm slump down to lap and gave a quick glance at his watch.  The rush of blood back in to his arm and hand immediately triggered that painful pins and needles and he started clenching and unclenching his fist.

“I’m sorry!” The man said, still staring ahead at the water.

“Don’t be.”

“This is very unlike me.”

“Crying on strangers on a beach?”

“All of this”

“The skirt and cardie combo?”

“Not my usual go to.”  The man turned to look at him.  His eyes were red and a bit puffy.  “You must think me an old fool!”

“I think you’re neither old nor a fool” Jonathon said kindly.

“Is your hand ok?”

“Oh, yeah, honestly it’s fine, just getting the feeling back in it!”

“Why did you stop me?” He asked. 

“I don’t know” Jonathan said “You looked, seemed, I don’t know, sort of uncertain and that worried me.  Like you were going to do it but didn’t want to.”

“I was.   Certain.  Then I wasn’t.  It’s been a strange morning.  I no longer know what I want.”

He smiled and turned away again to face the water.

“I just wanted calm.”

They sat again in silence for a moment before Jonathon spoke up once more.

“Fancy a tea and fry up?  There’s a good little greasy spoon not too far.”

“That’s very kind but Im not sure I’m dressed for breakfast.”

“Nobody will even notice, not round here.”

“I stole them from outside a charity shop”

“Oh?”

“I’m a bad person!”

“I’m not judging.”

“I didn’t have any clothes on when I got here.  I drove over a hundred miles naked.”

“Now I’m judging a little!”

The bag was outside the shop, I needed something so I could leave the car and walk to the sea.  So I grabbed the bag.  It had a bit of bric-a-Brac and a few bits of women’s clothing.  I didn’t have any choice but to throw on whatever would fit me”

“Well, it’s a bold choice.”  They both smiled.  “Look, I live in one of those flats just over the road.  My ex left some of his clothes behind and I think there’s some joggers and hoodies in there that might fit you.”
“Boyfriend?”

“Ex, yes.”

“Oh, I don’t want you to get the wrong…”

“Just come and change, freshen up, have shower if you want.  Don’t worry, I won’t ask for anything in return for my kindness!”

“I’m not g…”

“No shit!”

He smiled again.  The man gave a little laugh, nervous, but Jonathon was pleased to see him smile and a momentary twinkle appear in the eye.  

“This get up didn’t even make you think I was?”

“Oh, no.  Where to even start with this outfit.  The whole charity bag story, to be honest, it was a relief to hear! Makes much more sense!”

“Come on”. He jumped up, grabbed his camera and held out a hand “I’m Jonathon” he said. 

The man took his hand “Phillip.  Thank you.”

He pulled him up to his feet.

“Can I call you Phil?”

“Absolutely not!”

“This way then, Phillip!”  He released his hand and walked slowly back up the beach toward the road, Phillip in tow. He wiped the single tear from his eye.  He was pleased he’d managed one good thing today.  He’d stopped a man from killing himself.  For the first time in a while he had a sense of purpose.