Chapter 5

Jonathon found himself standing next to a garrulous, slightly greying man in his fifties.

"I hear you're the chap who put a smile on the old bat," he said, indicating Joanne.

"Yes, I guess that's me," Jonathon answered.

"And put one up her, so they tell me?" he said.

"Yes, we found out two weeks ago."

"Good job," the man said clapping an arm around Jonathon, "serves the old bag right. Mind you, now she'll come to work grumpier than ever, eh?"

"Probably," Jonathon replied trying to ease away.

"Here, she's coming over. Time for a refill I think," he said advancing on a waiter.

Joanne approached Jonathon, her eyes still scanning the crowd.

"What did he have to say?" she asked in a low voice.

"Just congratulating me, and us, I think."

"God, it's got around, I might have known."

"Who is he?"

"You're kidding me, right? No, I can see you're not. He's only your Prime Minister, leader of the country."

"Oh, he looks different from on TV."

"Shorter! They stand him on a box, I think."

"How are you coping?" Jonathon asked her.

"I'm a bit gassy. I'm snacking often and not having big meals, like the doctor advised. And no booze, of course."

"I could do with a cigarette. Anywhere you can have a quick puff?"

"Follow... that man, he's the Minister of Finance, smokes like a chimney. He'll be ducking off soon. See his eyes flicking around? He's hanging out already."

"Got it."

"Get him to offer you one, they're duty-free anyhow."

"I will."

"There he goes... quick follow him."

Jonathon followed the Minister out a side door. It led to a stairwell that reeked of stale smoke.

"Can I trouble you for one?" he asked the man.

"What? Oh yes, help yourself," he said proffering the packet. "You're Joanne's man, aren't you?" he said as they lit up.

"Yes sir," Jonathon answered.

"Congratulations to the two of you. I suppose she gets you to smoke outside?"

"Yes, or the garage when it's raining."

"I suppose she put you up to ask me for a cigarette?"

"Yes, she did."

"Bitch! She's always on at me. You know, we all complain about her... her style and manner... but we all love her you know. Couldn't be happier for her. Thought you'd shut her up a little... forlorn hope I guess."

"I couldn't imagine anything shutting her up," Jonathon said, chuckling.

"How was the Minister?" Joanne asked when Jonathon returned.

"Nice guy, good sense of humour."

"He needs it, the job he's got. C'mon babe, I'll have to go, I'm exhausted."

"Ok, do you need to kiss anyone's butt first?"

"I couldn't think of anything I'd like less, at the moment. Even your buns! Let's just go!"

They waited outside a few minutes for the Government car to pull up. Being an official engagement, Joanne was entitled to an official car, and driver. Jonathon was slightly embarrassed by all the fuss,

'You'll get used to it, ' she'd told him, 'just don't spit in the ash trays, ok?'

The car pulled up and the driver leapt out and opened the door for them.

"Miss van Wettering, Mr. Wetherall," he intoned, as they got in.

"Step on it Freddie, and easy on the corners. Unless you want me to throw up over you."

"Sure thing, Joanne," the driver replied, "I hear congratulations are in order?"

"Not you too!"

"Haha, yes, the PM's driver told me the news. I've got 6 you know, 2 girls and 4 boys."

"Well, do your wife a favour and buy a Television, ok?"

"Haha, don't worry, Joanne, morning sickness only lasts a couple of weeks, three maybe."

"The next person to tell me that, I swear... I'll... and wipe that grin of your face Jonathon. Next time you're having it, got that?"

"C'mon, deep breaths, wait until the feeling passes."

"Jonathon! Shut up!"

"You can stay up, Y'know," Joanne told Jonathon as they prepared for bed.

"Just make sure you get in the other side. Leave me a clear route to the bathroom, ok?"

"I might get up for the Cricket later. I just want to make sure you're ok," he told her.

"You're such a honey, are you sure you weren't a woman in a past life?"

"Why?"

"Such consideration! I don't expect that from guys."

"Well. I just figure its part of the bargain."

"Which one?"

"The 'love' one."

"You're too mushy to be true. Hold me, ok? But be prepared to let me go in a hurry."

"Ok."

"Jonathon?" she said as they settled down, "you don't mind us not having sex for a while?"

"Of course not, we'll make up for it later, won't we?"

"It's just... I don't feel particularly sexy, Y'know? At the moment, anyway. I haven't gone off you or anything."

"I know, babe. It's not the only reason I'm here. Y'know?"

"No? So you like washing my underwear?"

"Of course! I get to have a little sniff."

"Ugh, you're disgusting, you'll make me throw up."

"Hey! You can have a whiff of mine, anytime. Don't knock it till you've tried it."

"Jonathon! Shut the fuck up!"

Some would-be mothers are nauseous from the moment of conception to the birth. Others claim they have never felt better in their lives the entire 9 months. Most slot in somewhere along the two extremes.

By the end of the first trimester Joanne was not only overcome with a feeling of wellbeing, her hormones had re-arranged themselves in such a way that it was Jonathon who found himself worn out and exhausted.

"Aw, it's all shrunken and miserable looking," she told him one morning.

"Sorry," replied Jonathon, " it just doesn't know what hit it. It's in trauma."

"Poor thing," she continued, pushing his penis around with her finger, "can't handle the pace, can't we? Like your owner, you go into a sulk."

"I do not!"

"Oh you do, Jonathon! Even your blasted cat runs away and hides. Y'know in 6 months you've got a few changes coming."

"I don't need reminding, I'll manage."

"You're not too old for the job?"

"Others have become fathers in their fifties and sixties."

"Let's see," Joanne pondered, "when junior starts dating you'll be, what, late fifties?

"Probably."

"Will you be able to beat off the pack?"

"C'mon Joanne. They'd hardly be measuring me up for a Zimmer frame at that age. How old is Gascoigne?"

"61, I think."

"See? And he's running the country."

"He thinks he does."

"So, he still has to stand up in front of the cameras and smile, doesn't he? Give the odd speech without falling asleep..."

"Everybody else does."

"... And cut a ribbon or two... open a school... stand up in front of Parliament and give a State of the Nation address without losing his place... and, and... make weighty decisions about the sales tax on... cattle feed or something."