* * * * * * * * * *
Something in the way she moves
Attracts me like no other lover
The world was hazy and out of focus like it always is in dreams. Color was everywhere. Color and people and music and smoky, hazy, dreamy, floaty, life.
She was aware of the music though. A humming in her ear with no particular words, but the humming buzzed against the side of her face followed by a burst of warm breath
Something in the way she woos me…
I don’t wanna leave her now. You know I believe in how.
A smile spread across her face like the world was perfect and she had nothing to do but smile at the utter feeling of being loved. Arms around her waist. Possibly not arms, but that seemed the most logical thing to be around her waist. Swaying in a comfortable embrace. Giggling.
A throaty titter of laughter against her cheek. “Oh lord, I’m daft”, a husky voice she knew to well or possibly not at all. It sounded like, but she wasn’t sure. It may have been something else, but it buzzed against her mind pleasantly.
She continued to sway and giggle and smile and she felt like one does when the sun is shining on their shoulder and all is right in the world.
And All I have to is think of her. And I love her… no that’s wrong.
More laughter.
* * * * * * * *
London, July 1963
“We are now beginging our initial decent into London’s Heathrow Airport. We thank you for choosing British Airways and we hope you have a pleasant stay in London, England. If your final destination is Amsterdam, please remain on this aircraft because we will be departing from…”
Gabrielle twisted her head to the side as the flight attendant woke her up. She found a small child peering at her with wide eyes while sucking on a rag doll clutched in her tiny fist. Gabby smiled weakly and rolled her head to the other side, remembering the feeling of contentment she’d had in her dream and feeling perplexed as the last fragments of the dream faded away.
She slid open the window and peered down at London. It was overcast and gray as usual, but as soon as they’d broken through the clouds the city was visible. She felt her heart do a sort of flop as she thought about Paul, George, Dad, Liverpool, her Aunt, school, and how her knickers were far too uncomfortable all at the same time and in no particular order.
Gabby found herself hiding under sunglasses and feeling decidedly like she didn’t belong when she stepped off the plane in Heathrow. After two years in jeans and overly large button down shirts she felt even more out of place in the clothes she randomly selected at Sack’s Fifth Avenue on the way back. She was still surprised with the bills that she was running up that no call from her Aunt had come complaining. She wore light blue Capri’s, a black sweater set, and cream ballet-ish shoes. Her dark hair was short again, to her shoulders with heavy bangs… again.
The sky outside was gray and threatening rain. She had to smile. Yep, this was England.
Cynthia was supposed to come get her. Gabrielle felt bad about calling at the last minute but she’s managed to tie up everything in New York quicker then she’d expected. The apartment was still in her name but Trixie and Montana were still living in it. They’d been sad to see her go, and Gabby felt an odd sense of being torn. She was putting up with New York. She liked it… but it wasn’t home. And England seemed to very far away.
After the fiasco in California Gabby had mostly stayed true to her word and kept off the drugs. A pill every now and then wouldn’t hurt anyone, she reasoned, she wasn’t eating four Dexedrine for breakfast anymore. The drinking was still her favorite past time. Really, Gabrielle wasn’t acknowledging that she’d been addicted to anything. She just glanced at the packet of pills Montana and Trixie kept in the kitchen cupboard and felt ill.
She pulled her sunglasses down and glanced around, chewing on her lip and hoping to see the blonde head of Cynthia. She’s spoken to Cynthia several times since she’d been gone. Mostly just Cynthia and Shaz. As of sometime last year they’d suddenly been ‘getting more gigs’ according to Cyn. She had spoken to George and Paul, but because she only made a point to call home once a month or so she generally missed them when they were out of town. The last she’d said anything to George was… at least around Christmas. Or was it Halloween?
Just then a huge blonde bear of a man came rambling up to her gate. Gaby watched silently, her lips forming a grin as he brought the attention to other Travelers to himself. But hen to her surprise he looked at her and started in her direction.
“Hello there” his accent was Liverpudlian, Gabby wondered then if her own accent had softened some.
“’ullo” she offered, smiling at him bewildered
He stuck out a hand that could have easily wrapped three times around her arm to shake “You must be Gabby, I’m Mal, I work for the Beatles”
“Oh” she raised her eyebrows as she shook his hand “Theyr’e as important as all that are they?”
Male gave her a funny look “Well.. yes I suppose. I mean, I’m the bloke that drives ‘em around and all that. Now I’ve got the label of ‘personal assistant’” he grinned cheekily “I’ve ‘eard a lot about you, I ‘ave. Mostly from Paul and John. Anyway, Cyn was busy with the baby. Cutest little thing ‘e is. So I came to collect you”
“Oh” she nodded, puzzled “Great, where are they then?”
“Erm” he put his hand to his mouth, thinking “Manchester? I dunno, it’s hard to keep track. But they’ll be in London tonight I reckon, fer a show. They don’t know your coming, I s’pose it’d be a nice surprise fer ol’ George”
“Won’t it though” she giggled following Mal out of the airport
* * * * * * *
“Oy, Paulie” John grinned, flicking the collar of his friend’s suit “Pass us a fag, will you sweetheart”
They were currently traveling by train from Manchester to London, an entourage of reporters with them.
Paul made a show of rolling his eyes for the reporters “Certainly dearie” he tossed his packet of fags at John.
“Now, George, how do you feel about playing the Odeon Cinema?”
“Erm…” George looked at Ringo who snorted “Bout the same way I feel about playin’ anywhere, I reckon”
“Ringo, you’re the oldest member of the Beatles, does that mean you started the group?”
“Oh yes” Ringo nodded “It’s my band, this lot, they do all that I say.”
“Ay, ay, ay” John thwapped him around the head “Don’t go saying that son”
“Well he is the oldest” George said, tugging at his tie so it fell limply around his neck
“And you’re the baby” John nodded “So shut it”
“John what did you want to be when you were a small child?”
“Oh,” john gushed “When I was just a wee lad, I always said I wanted to be a rock ‘n’ roll star, I did” he hopped up and swung his arm around Pete Townsend style.
“He did” Paul agreed
“All right” Brian stood up from his place in the corner where he was being very quiet “No more questions, the boys must have time to practice”
The reporters and journalists filed out of the train compartment, only one tall brunette straying behind. She walked right up to John, and held her hand out to him.
John made a face at Paul before turning to the reporter “Hello my dear, what might your name be”
“Sunny” she smirked “Sunny Lennox”
“Sunny?” John laughed “Great name, luv”
“I have a question for you Mr. Lennon”
“Oh by all means luv, go right ahead”
She beamed “What do Beatles do when it gets dark out”
John gestured for Sunny to come down to his level “Come by our hotel tonight and I’ll show you”
She grinned “I’ll do that John” she said, and then straightened up before sashaying out of the compartment
“Come over tonight and I’ll show you” George Mimicked, while Paul and Ringo busted up laughing
“Ah, shut it, you lot” John chuckled, looking pleased with himself
“John, are you mad!” Brian exploded “She’s a *reporter* and you’re *married*”
“Hey, hey” John said, holding out a hand to calm his manager “S’all right Bri, I’ll have to be sure to give her something to write about then, won’t I?”
Brian fumed and the others laughed.
Before long the train pulled into Kings Cross. They were pleasantly surprised with a relatively large horde of teenage girls waiting there with signs and autograph books.
“Do we have time to stop and say hello?” Paul asked Brian
Brian shook his head “We’ve got to get straight to the Savory, there’ll be more reporters there to deal with”
Paul sighed and settled for waving and rolling down his window when they all piled into cars and pulled away.
The Savory was Brian’s favorite hotel in London. They were great about discretion and so when the Beatles stayed in London it did well for them to go to the Savory. Besides being on the road most of their time, they spent quite a bit more time in London. Not that anyone was complaining. George and Ringo were considering buying a flat in Knightsbridge, even.
They got up to their suite and were told to ‘mess about but don’t leave the room’ for half an hour before pre-show press conference. They had to deal with the press quite a bit now, but they didn’t mind. Ever since getting in the studio with George Martin for Love Me Do there’d been this feeling of doing anything to get to the top. And now they had been number one in the charts several times. Some were saying the Beatles were the biggest group in England. They felt like they were flying. And all the press seemed like just a small sacrifice to make.
At least it did then.
Paul flipped on the telly “bah” he whined “Nothing’s on.”
John chuckled and tried the radio, after adjusting it for a bit he found Radio One playing ‘I Saw Her Standing There’. He sang a long to Paul’s voice, dancing his hands around his face and acting up.
“Come off it” Paul sighed
“I remember” said John, pulling himself away from the radio but leaving it on “You trying to write that song. It didn’t come to you for a while there”
‘Yeah” Paul shrugged, “Whatever”
There was a soft knock on the door and Mal stuck his head through.
“Hey Mal” George laughed “What’re you lurking about for?”
“I’ve got a surprise for you” Mal grinned, pushing open the door. I saw her standing there continued to blare in the background but at least Two of the Beatles hearts fell into their knees.
George found his voice first “Gab” he choked
