Greece 1945 -
When Jonathan met Alessi while recovering in hospital he couldn’t help but fall in love with her. At first he didn’t realize that nearly every soldier who met her felt much the same thing—even if he did, he probably wouldn’t have cared. She was stunning with long black hair and caramel skin. Her eyes were bright, round and (he thought) sincere.
He’d sustained a foot wound that night the relief camp was attacked. It wasn’t too serious but it was enough to keep him out of the remainder of the war.
Alessi smelt sweetly of wild flowers when she first leaned over his bed to check his temperature. Her hair was hidden in a tight bun and cap but it didn’t matter. Her cheeks were a soft pink and her mouth moist.
She didn’t speak very good English but she’d come to know the necessities working at the hospital. Everyday she met soldiers of all nationalities.
“Hello sleepy head,” she said with a strong Greek accent. “How you feel?”
Jonathan had always been a very devoted husband. He loved Samantha and had been mostly faithful to her throughout the war. He struggled against his feelings for Alessi but she reeked perfection. As he healed he watched her dance about the beds with a bright smile. Her laugher drove him insane.
He thought of his daughter and tried to want to go home. Constantly, he closed his eyes, trying not to watch Alessi. He tried to picture his wife.
He tried everything but his love was inevitable.
He came to realize that she was an angel and men could not help but worship her.
She told him in Greek her name meant ‘helper’. She believed she was meant to be a nurse.
She was used to being flattered endlessly so it was not easy for Jonathan—who was not excessively handsome but not excessively ugly either—to woo her. He became obsessed with fantasies of taking her in many ways.
Her body was small and round in all the right places. Her hands were warm against his arm and the mounds of her breasts hovered in front of his face when she tucked in his blankets.
“How your foot today Mr. Parker?” she would ask sweetly.
It was a big shock when he discovered her feelings for him. At first he figured he was imagining it. Surely she was too darling to want him!
He was leaving the hospital when she admitted her love. She said that she would miss his kind and friendly face. She said she wished he could stay sick just so she could keep looking after him.
How could he leave then?
They had a passionate love affair. Her family was horrified but Alessi didn’t care. The war ended and he did not tell the army where he was. Now every day and night he fell asleep trying his hardest not to think of his family.
They moved into a house together and he got a job as a bartender at the local tavern. At first it was very hard for him to be accepted. The Greek men were jealous that he managed to capture their precious Alessi’s heart.
Eventually he made friends and him and Alessi created a life for themselves. He still loved her unbearably and believed she was worth remaining in Greece for.
Things started to go sour in the new year of 1947. Alessi was very friendly with everyone—including the males—and Jonathan did not take it well. He was worried she would fall in love with someone else and leave him.
They began fighting continuously. She assured him she was devoted but his jealousy eventually pushed her away. Being such a naturally happy person, his bitterness was not well received. She knew she could have anyone and she lost interest in Jonathan.
It wasn’t easy for him to write Samantha and tell her everything. He didn’t want to say goodbye to Alessi, he would always love her. He knew there was no other way. She began sleeping with another man. A handsome Greek war hero.
Jonathan could not stay and watch her with him.
He waited and waited for Samantha to reply. He waited months, working at the bar and soon, living by himself. Seeing Alessi got harder and harder.
Whenever he approached her she was mean and said she had never loved him. She said she’d used him to get out of her families house. She told him to go away. To leave and never come back.
It became obvious Samantha would not reply. He felt like he’d ruined his life.
With hopes of changing her mind, he left Greece and headed home to England anyway. He thought maybe he could convince Samantha to forgive him if he stood before her and pleaded. He knew he’d made a mistake—he needed to show her that.
~*~
1949
Maxwell hadn’t been to visit Jonathan since he’d found out the reason for his absence the last four years. It hadn’t been the heroic tale he’d hoped for and now he felt betrayed for Liz and her mother. No wonder Samantha had had ended her own life. When she’d received a letter from her long lost husband nearly two years ago she’d probably been expecting much more from him than what she’d got. It was no wonder Jonathan hadn’t travelled to find Liz yet. If Maxwell was in his situation he wouldn’t have gone either.
Liz would not take the news well.
Maxwell almost wanted to protect her from finding out. He debated whether or not she’d be better off thinking he was dead.
When Josephine got back from Paris he told her about Jonathan. It was the first time he’d mentioned his return and she was surprised that he’d kept it from her for so many weeks.
“So what is he doing now?” she asked loudly. “Just camping out in his old house?”
Maxwell was in his office, sitting behind his desk. “Yes and he has returned to work.”
“Well why has he been gone for so long?” Josephine had her hands on her hips. “He had better have a good reason!”
Maxwell told her the story of Jonathan’s unfaithfulness and about the letter he’d sent requesting permission to come home. She was disgusted and did not hold back in saying so.
“Well of course Samantha didn’t reply!” she cried. “Oh the poor women, pinning away for him to come home. Meanwhile he’s bonking some trashy Greek harlot!”
Maxwell hadn’t told Josephine anything about the woman Jonathan had been living with. He found it amusing that she automatically came to conclusions of her own.
“He should definitely not go to Paris. She’s doing so well and he’d just upset her!”
Josephine sat down on one of the lavish chairs across from him He suddenly looked solemn.
“Tell me,” he said, “How do you know whether she’s doing well or not?”
“I am just guessing.”
He looked sceptical.
“Fine, I visited her. But it wasn’t even my fault. I couldn’t help it, it was completely by mistake.”
“How do you accidentally run into one person?” he asked with annoyance. “There are millions of people in Paris. You are very predictable. I knew you couldn’t stop yourself.”
“Well she was having an art exhibition and I was invited to come along by some of our best connections.” She told him how she didn’t even realize it was Liz’s show until she got there. “Oh Maxwell, you won’t believe how well she’s done for herself! Our little Liz!”
Maxwell wondered when his Liz had become their Liz. Since when had Josephine started laying claims on his friend?
“Some of the most distinguished people were there Maxwell. I could hardly believe it myself. She’s rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous already.”
“She must be extremely talented.”
“She is!” Josephine cried. “And isn’t it such a rare thing to become a famous artist—so young and so quickly! In fact, famous at all.”
It wasn’t hard for Maxwell to imagine Liz being famous. He’d always thought she had a unique air about her. However, it was very hard for him to imagine her being sophisticated and cultured. He hoped she wasn’t changing herself to fit in.
“Did you speak to her?” he asked reluctantly.
“Yes,” Josephine answered. “She asked after you. She still thinks about you Maxwell.”
He swallowed. “I’m unhappy with you. You shouldn’t have spoken to her.”
“Don’t be stubborn. You should go and visit her.”
“That’s the last thing she needs.”
Josephine stood up. “Well, I’m going to go and visit Jonathan.”
Maxwell shot up too. “No! You are not. Josephine—please stay out of this!”
“Maxwell—”
“I do not need your help with this. Please, just leave it alone. For once.”
Josephine looked horrified. “What is that supposed to mean? For once?”
Maxwell sighed and rubbed his brow tiredly. “You know what it means Josephine. You like to make my matters your matters. I don’t need your help with this.”
“Huh!” Josephine said dramatically. “Fine then! Well goodbye!”
Maxwell knew he had done it now. He’d learnt there was a certain way Josephine expected to be treated and now he’d spoken too forthrightly. He wondered how long it would be until she came to visit again.
He wondered if he cared.
He wondered if, maybe her absence would have a good effect on him.
~*~
Liz needed to get out.
She barely left her studio now and rarely ever did anything other than paint. Some days she forgot to eat and others she forgot to bathe.
Her life was a shambles. It became more and more obvious that she was not happy. Her new life was good but she was lonely. She was friends with people but she wasn’t close with people.
Her painting evolved, got darker. People still bought them.
She was rich.
It was not easy to live without a single brother or sister. A mother or a father. A greedy grandmother was not enough to make Liz feel loved. She wasn’t appreciated. All people wanted from her were her artwork.
And she gave it to them. Painting after painting, after painting. Some times the paint had barely dried before it was taken from her and sold. She didn’t care—she didn’t want to keep any.
Well…any other than the pictures of her mother and of Maxwell and back home. The rest could go.
She was messy and her nails were permanently caked with charcoal, pastels and paint. Her hair was long and unruly. She never put on make up.
Franklin was worried. He brought her dinner and they sat together in her barely furnished dinning room. She didn’t converse much so usually it was just him—chatting about work and the outside world.
“You’re so pale,” he’d say, “how about we go for a walk—get some fresh air?”
“Maybe tomorrow,” she’d reply while picking unconsciously at her dirty skin.
She didn’t feel like she had a single person in the whole world to go to. She didn’t have a single loved one.
She was all alone.
If she died…who would all the money from her paintings go to?
Elaine?
Liz began to expect that’s exactly what her grandmother wanted.
~*~
Guys! Sorry! I hope that was okay. I know it's short and long overdue. Thanks for everything!
~nicola
Screen (AU,M/L,TEEN) AN 4/11/06 [WIP]
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