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It was the first truly warm day of the year. The sky was powder blue, with golden sunlight beaming onto each flower bud that had just began to unfurl. Clouds floated like dandelions, barely casting shadows across lush fields of fresh grass. Birds sang and twittered across the trees, as if spreading the news that spring was finally here.
It only made sense to go out and enjoy it.
Jonathan had asked the kitchen staff to prepare a picnic for two. He found it that morning, neatly packed into a wicker basket next to a tartan blanket and some bottles of fruit juice. He had to restrain himself from sneaking a nibble before they went out, knowing full well what the chefs were capable of.
He prepared himself for the day, then waited in the living room for his companion to arrive. Before too long, Speedwagon came into the room and greeted him. It was the first time that Jonathan has seen him not dressed for winter, his black wool coat absent from atop his lavender waistcoat. His linen shirt looked much the same, but now was rolled up to the elbows, revealing both muscles and scars along his lower arms.
The carriage driver announced their readiness, and the two men were driven to a nearby park. Jonathan held all of their supplies as they walked to their location, a quiet field some distance from the entrance. Speedwagon looked all around, taking everything in.
"Not much of this 'round Ogre Street, believe you me."
Jonathan had been to this park countless times, familiar with the trees and flower patches and fountains with statues. He chose not to mention it. They reached their destination and set up their picnic near a blossoming tree. Food seemed to endlessly stream from the basket, sandwiches and cakes and biscuits and miniature pies, each item with its own porcelain plate and intricately carved cutlery.
Speedwagon's jaw dropped. "Blimey, Mr Joestar, you did tell 'em it was just us two, right?"
"Of course," he replied. "Please, eat as much as you like." He gestured towards the spread of snacks.
"Don't mind if I do, then!" Speedwagon picked up the closest item to him and took as big a bite as he could, munching it down in record time. "That was amazin'! What is it, some type of tart?"
"Yes, it's a French tart called quiche. I believe the filling is made of eggs, cheese and cream."
"Whatever it is, it's fantastic."
The two continued eating, only occasionally pausing to comment on the food. At one point, Jonathan bit into a slice of Victoria sponge cake, causing strawberry jam and fresh cream to blob down over his clothes. Speedwagon snorted a laugh, but Jonathan's smile dropped completely.
"Oh dear, what have I done?" He took a napkin and frantically wiped his shirt. "I'm so sorry, Mr Speedwagon, I promise I'm not normally such a... such a..." He kept rubbing, face crumpling in frustration.
"Woah, woah, Mr Joestar, it's alright." Speedwagon placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's just a little mess, no big deal. And what are you apologisin' for? It's not like I care. You should see how people eat on Ogre Street."
"But isn't it ridiculous? I try so hard to be polite and act properly, but I can't even eat without making a mess! You shouldn't have to eat with someone with such poor etiquette."
"I told ya, I don't care about that! You could roll around in the mud and I wouldn't care. You're a gentleman through and through, and I'm here spendin' time with ya because I'm your friend. Got it?"
Jonathan sniffed. "I think so. Thank you, Mr Speedwagon."
"Any time, Mr Joestar. Anytime."
The peaceful mood returned as they continued eating. Above them, a breeze through the trees blew a flurry of blossom petals over the pair, falling around them like confetti.
★ ★ ★
That summer, Jonathan and Speedwagon spent a week's holiday in Margate. It was popular with Londoners, but Jonathan was from far enough away that he'd never been. The two split the cost of a hotel room – just the one, to save money. After checking in in the morning, Speedwagon took his friend for a tour of the beachfront, including a stall selling various types of seafood.
"Two lots of jellied eels, if you please," Speedwagon ordered, and was soon given two small bowls of round white and grey chunks in a clear lumpy goop.
Jonathan refused to show his intimidation, picking a chunk up onto his fork and chewing, suppressing a gag at the texture.
"How ya likin' it, Mr Joestar?" Speedwagon asked, happily eating his own portion.
He noticed Jonathan's distressed expression and burst out laughing.
"Look at your face! Oh, I'm sorry, I just had to see it. It's alright, I know it's an acquired taste. You don't have to finish it."
Jonathan sighed in relief and pushed his bowl across the counter.
Later, they went down to the beach, the crowd having somewhat thinned by mid-afternoon. They sat and talked on the sand for a while, until Jonathan decided that he wanted to go for a swim. He left his clothes in a beach hut, revealing the swimsuit that he had worn underneath. He had clearly been waiting for this.
He walked back over to Speedwagon, who was still sitting where he was before."Aren't you joining me?" Jonathan asked.
"Nah, I never learnt how. You go have fun, I’ll be here."
"Wait, really? Then I should teach you! Come on, I promise we'll go slowly."
Speedwagon could never say no to Jonathan.
Speedwagon didn't own a swimsuit, so his only choice was to strip down to his shirt and drawers. They waded into the sea until they were at waist height to begin the lesson. The water soaked up through his remaining clothes, clinging to his broad frame and turning translucent. Jonathan could see hints of scars he hadn't known about, scattered across his toned chest.
Jonathan explained how to tread water, going through each part of the process and praising how fast Speedwagon was learning. When not practising the arm motions, he held tightly onto Jonathan's hands, knowing they would keep him above the waves, while trying to focus on swimming and not how warm and soft his hands were.
The two kept going until they noticed the sun starting to set. Without any towels, they walked along the beach until the sun dried them off. After getting fully dressed again, they wandered back up to the pier and found a chip shop. Both agreed that the freshly-caught cod was much more appetising than jellied eels.
As they lay in bed that night, Speedwagon found himself settling across Jonathan's chest. The salt clung to his long hair, and as he drifted off he felt as if he was still swimming, his mind conjuring echoes of the motion of the waves. He huddled closer to his anchor as he fell asleep.
★ ★ ★
With autumn came a new academic year, and Jonathan was required to travel abroad to study an archaeological digsite. He would be gone for several months, so he promised to write a letter to Speedwagon as often as possible. Speedwagon told him that it wasn't necessary, that he should focus on his studies, but Jonathan wouldn't hear a word of it.
That was how Speedwagon found himself in his current predicament – wanting to write a letter back, but having absolutely nothing to write about. In his latest draft, he had told Jonathan that everyone was well and nothing much had happened. It was fine, but such a boring letter barely seemed worth sending. He reread Jonathan's letter, seeing what else he could respond to. Jonathan and his team were doing well, although there was little progress at the digsite, and the weather there still felt like summer.
It certainly didn't feel like summer in England. Perhaps he could talk about that.
He picked up his pen and continued writing.
Autumn is in full swing here – the leaves are falling and so is the rain. I wish I could fly south for winter like the birds do. I would fly right to you and we would bask in the sun together. I already miss the summer, much as I miss you. The bright, blazing heat of the sun never fails to make me smile. At least I know that it'll always come back soon enough.
Speedwagon was happy enough with that. He signed off and sealed the letter in an envelope, then rushed to the postbox to send it off.
Soon, but not soon enough for Speedwagon, Jonathan's reply came. Speedwagon ripped open the envelope, desperate to read its contents. His eyes lingered on each word, soaking in every detail of the past few weeks. Most of it was the expected fare, until the final paragraph that made Speedwagon's breath hitch.
I truly wish I was experiencing a British autumn right now. The cooler air is easier to breathe, and the changing colours are fascinating to watch each time. There are also comforts that the season brings, from cosy jumpers to meals using the fresh harvest. Autumn has a calmness to it after the heat of summer – I long to feel it, and to share its delights with you.
Thousands of miles apart, Jonathan longed for the cool peace of autumn while Speedwagon missed the heat and joy of summer. Both knew what that really meant, but they also knew that seasons always return in time.
★ ★ ★
That winter marked a year since Jonathan and Speedwagon had met. In contrast to that snowy night, this day was pouring down frigid rain, much too heavy and cold for them to want to go anywhere.
There were a handful of things they owned that could help pass the time – some board games, a library full of books, even a brand-new phonograph. However, none of it particularly grabbed their interest. The chill seeped through the walls, seeming to unlock some deep-rooted instinct to hibernate.
Speedwagon lit the fire, and Jonathan used it to boil the kettle. He could have asked the kitchen staff, but lately he has found himself wanting to do more for himself. He fetched the tea set and poured out two cups, only spilling a bit of water onto the saucers. While he worked, Speedwagon had found a soft wool blanket, spread it out on the sofa and tucked half of it across his lap. Jonathan set the teacups on the coffee table and took his place next to him.
The two sipped their tea in comforting silence and listened to the crackling fire. They felt no need to talk, simply enjoying the warmth gathering under the blanket. As they finished their drinks, they pulled the blanket up over their shoulders and drifted off to sleep, keeping each other warm well after the fire died out.