* ** * *
Ringo was aware of someone watching him as he fell out of the land of nod and back to reality. He blinked and the fuzzy image of Brian standing in the door way greeted him. Ringo moaned “What” he asked, fearing the worst. Brian was all dressed up in a suit and looked ready to go out. Surely they had nothing planned that day? No mindless yet amusing press conferences or the like. Ritchie just wanted to sleep, and perhaps watch the football match on telly with a newspaper and a coffee.
Ringo started to sit up but Brian held a hand out to stop him. “No” he said “I’m just off to EMI for a few meetings about things and such”
“Things and such” Ringo repeated, laying back on his pillow. “Right, we don’t need to come?” he tugged at the edge of his tee shirt, his rings, which he forgot to remove, jolting his skin slightly.
“No, stay in bed. Have a bit of kip. Just don’t leave the flat without being covered up” Said Brian, rapping at the door and smiling “I’ll be back around three”
“Right” Ringo waved him off and rolled over in bed, hoping to go back to sleep but knowing it was futile. He got up and padded around his bedroom, sighing at the impersonal hotel like nature of it all. A bed a dresser a mirror and a desk were crammed in the small room, and it was identical to George’s next door. But off course, this was London, and Ringo supposed you had to take in that he was living in Knightsbridge, and Harrods was just a walk away. It was madness.
He made his bed haphazardly and went to see about coffee or tea and heard the door shut upon Brian’s exit. There didn’t seem to be anyone else in the flat, so Ringo decided to peak in on George.
Fast asleep with a Gabrielle tucked around him like a stuffed sleep toy. The normal, ah they can’t just be friends mantra ran its course through Ringo’s head. He shrugged it off and watched Gabrielle sniff and wipe at a lock of George’s hair that was tickling her nose. She shifted around, worming her way into George while making small snuffling sounds.
Ringo thought of Mo. God, he missed her like mad. Sure there were plenty of bird on the road for all of them. But deep down, they all knew it was Cynthia, Mo and Gabby that mattered. Paul and Jane didn’t count yet as a serious relationship, Ringo mused, because in all honesty he spent more time with Gabby then with Jane. It wasn’t fair to Jane, because she was lovely and posh and far to good for any of them scouser lads.
Ringo went around to George’s side of the bed and tapped him on the head. George whimpered and rolled over, his forehead crashing into Gabrielle’s. She shifted downwards, her arms going round his waist.
“George, gerrup” Ringo muttered. He hated this feeling of being all alone, contemplating scary things. And beside that it was near eleven, George should be awake.
George’s eyes opened, he looked around blearily as if he was drunk and then blinked heavily. He looked down at Gabby and ran his hand through her hair slowly. He worked his mouth “Oh, I’ tired” he slurred and pressed back into his pillows, rolling over onto his back. Gabby came with him, her arm flopped over the side of the bed and grazed Ringo’s boxer clad leg.
“George?” Ringo tried again. It was no use though, George was already back to sleep. “Christ, what have you been up to” he said asked slunk out of the room, deciding to call Mo.
*
Gabrielle ate the pancakes, and frozen fish sticks with gusto. “This is pretty good” she added in George’s direction. He and Ringo were reading the back of a frozen fish stick bag, arguing over weather twelve was too many for the two of them.
Georges a down and nicked a bit of fish stick. “I’m a bit wary of them pancakes, ring.”
“Oh shut it” Ringo laughed “They’re bloody good, ain’t they Gabby?”
“Bloody good” she agreed, taking a swig of tea out of a large chipped mug.
George yawned and rubbed at his eyes. Ringo sighed “You were in bed before it was, Georgie. Getting old at twenty, eh?”
“No” George sniffed “I’m twenty-one”
“God, you’re old” Gabby joked. She paused for a second to beam at George and Ringo because everything seemed perfect and happy and she didn’t want anything to change. So it was all very strange with them being somewhat famous and all. She was willing to be in denial about that, for ignorance is bliss.
“What” George asked blandly “You’ve gone all daft and pleasant looking”
“I know” Gabby sighed
“Uh oh” said Ringo knowingly “Our Gabby has got her self a Boyfriend”
“I have not!” Gabby’s aid rather too quickly
“What?” George demanded “You’re seeing someone and you’ve not told me”
“I’m not seeing anyone” she protested “I just met him last night”
“Bleeding Christ why didn’t you tell me?” George sighed
Gabby snorted “There isn’t much to tell. It just happened last night. You can’t bloody well expect me to come home running home going George!” she grabbed him by the collar and shook him “I’ve got a date”
“Oooh.. What’s his name” Asked Ringo, winding the dish towel up in his hands. He quite liked watching them bicker. It was silly and fun.
“Ermm” Gabby nearly blushed. But she wasn’t the blushing sort. “There are two actually”
“Oh Gabby, what a stud you are” Ringo joked, she pulled a face at him.
George rolled his eyes. “You’re turning into Paul. You’ve already got the daft cow eyes. Now you’re fucking around on everyone”
Ringo watched the lines in her face freeze up a bit. She pretended to have a sip of tea and avoided looking at George. Was it… was it at all possible that George still didn’t know of her liaisons with Sir Macca? Ringo found this hilarious for some reason, and laughed when Gabby tried to ask casually:
“So besides Jane, who’s he fucking?” she asked evenly
George shot her a wearily look and rubbed his temples “I dunno, groupies, mostly. Loads of them. He always gets to the stage door and gets the best ones first”
“Oh that’s charming” Gabby said sarcastically “I can see why you like touring so much”
Ringo whined “Oh, but it’d be better if you came. Mo and Cyn can’t come for school. And children, but you’re free” he grinned “Come to Bournemouth, Gabby? Yeah?”
“Why” she asked, confused “I’m not a groupie or a girlfriend. What good will I do with you?”
George waved his hands at Ringo “Tour later, I want to know who she’d going out with.”
“Why do you care so much?” she sneered
“I could care less” George said breezily “Unless it’s some fuck who’s going to slip you something”
“Yeah” Ring nodded “Hey yeah, we should maybe check him out first. You know. Just in case”
“Wouldn’t want you to end up on the doorstep in little bits and pieces” George cringed
Gabby snorted “Er… no. Eric and Jeremy they’re down from Cambridge and they’re writers”
“Bloody hell’ George stood up and went over to the stove to retrieve his cigarettes. He lit one “Eric. I don’t like the sound of ‘im”
Gabby laughed “You haven’t met him”
“I don’t bloody care” George said shortly. He picked up a frozen fish stick and dropped it again “Actually” he said thoughtfully “do what you like”
“I would like to go shopping then” Gabby nodded “With you. Buy you something besides a bloody suit”
“Nooo” George whined, Ringo Laughed. They were cut off by the telephone ringing though. Ringo grabbed it first “Hello” he said, reaching for George’s cigarette and having a drag off it. “Oh hang on” he handed the phone to Gabby silently and handed George back his fag with a “Cheers”
“Yeah” George agreed, watching Gabrielle’s face change gears quicker then anything he’d seen. She frowned, then looked shocked and then frowned again. Then nodded and looked up at George.
“What’s that?” she asked, “I can’t… how” she mumbled, turning away. “Right, thank you. Good bye” she hung up the phone and looked at it for a moment.
“Who was that?” ventured Ringo?
“Um” she rubbed her arm “My aunt’s solicitor… it seems she died yesterday…”
“Oh god, Gabby” Ringo put his arm around her “I’m sorry luv,” he consoled
“No, I mean it’s not that that’s so… I mean” she babbled “Of course I’m sad about her kicking it… it’s very strange because we never got on well… its just… well I’ve come into some inheritance t would seem”
She licked her lips and suddenly went quite pale.
“How much inheritance?” George asked calmly
Gabby looked up at him and smiled awkwardly “George… two hundred and forty six… million pounds”
**********
AN: Right, what we need is a new direction. A plot (gasp). Right... must come up with a plot ...
Remeber to REVIEW
THANKS TO:
Lyf: My editor darling. I will try to stick the Factory Workers back in there. Actually... yeah i can see that happening quite a bit : D
Like A Feather: I feel like i'm cheating you for some reason.... sigh... thanks for continuing to read, i love you dearly.
Amy: Your life must be crazy if it's like Gabby's... :D
Grace: Bah, thank you for revieing and reading, it means a lot
Stephanie: They can't just ruun away to india!.... Or will they? Tee hee... are you very Anti- Jane then? Mayby i'll base Francie off of you then ;D
