At 24 Johnny had the world on its knees. He was beautiful, sweet and s

At 24 Johnny had the world on its knees.

He was beautiful, sweet and softly spoken. His hair a gentle curl around his forehead, his eyes a blue which glittered silver when he smiled. He would make mothers weak at the knees at he shyly strode in, one hand in his belt, another tight in the grip of the daughter.

Johnny, at 24, lived for dating single women, having a fling with engaged women and seducing married women. The world was opening wide its legs for him. He was beautiful.

Women would adore him. They would forgive any sense of the unordinary and trickery that hid behind those silver eyes. For them he was just dating single women. Nothing more. Nothing less, as he toyed with their hearts, the strings tight in his twirling fingers.

It was Joe Buck, with success and confidence. An unerring unceasing and untouchable confidence, hid within his pitiable charm. He would continue dating single, engaged and married women. Simply continue.

They paid most of the time. Fine meals, whisky, fathers cigars. It was simple.

It was all smooth until the inevitable happened. It was the one loss he could not have talked and smiled his way out of, could not have dismissed and laughed off. A young girl. 16. Janey. He was in love.

No more could he go on dating single women, meeting in dark corners with engaged women or riding luck with married women.

She was everything he saw. She was the one that wouldn’t not succumb to his ease and charm, would not bend or bow to his beauty. He was in love. It was the worst thing that could have happened.

He met her parents. He had her mother. Easily, quietly, when the rest of the family was out at the races, high hats and sharp cut suits, they'd stayed behind and tossed and creased away they're clothes.

He held her, hoping for a few seconds he could pretend, if he only looked through the crouching glint of the corner of his eye, it could be real, it could be Janey.

They lay together for a long time next to the roaring log fire. Silent. He kept believing. He kept twirling that grey hair between his fingers, wishing he was older, wishing time had slipped away beyond him and him and Janey were old and wed and alone in front of that hot crackling fire.

He knew it would happen. He let it fall.

They walked back through the door, complaining they'd lost at the races. She saw him there, her eyes swell, bulged to bursting. She stormed away. Away into his tempest heart.

He was 24, the world was at his knees.