"So what did you do?" I asked Cynthia.
"Well...I did what he wanted to do, but only as much as I wanted to myself."
"Cynthia, I don't think I can do that, because it's not a partial credit sort of thing here. Paul is going to expect me to do It and I don't want to do It in the physical sense at all."
Patti was smiling sadly.
"Are you sure that that's all Paul wants?"
"What did George ant?"
"Well, the same..." she smiled..."but something more. He wanted security, a real home, someone that he could trust to love him."
"Paul's got seventeen million girls dying to marry him. I don't think that he's thinking of security."
"But you're not sure."
"I can't ask him..."
"Look at him when he looks at you. How he acts when you're around. Do what you think is right." Patti sat back, obviously satisfied with her prescription.
"What should he look like?"
"That's up to you." I pondered this for a moment, and then turned to Cynthia.
"Cyn, can I ask you a question?"
"Of course."
"I know if must seem like I'm just a kid, innocent and everything, and less experienced than you are...and I haven't really known you for that long...but...well, don't answer this if you don't want to: how old were you when..."
"When I did it?"
"Yeah."
"Well, I must have been about nineteen or twenty years old."
"I'm seventeen."
"Yes, I know."
"And Paul's twenty-four, right?"
"Yes."
"That's seven years difference...."
"Mmm-hmm."
"Well....if I"- here I gulped uncomfortably- "said yes to him...would I get hurt?" Patti squeezed my wrist.
"Penny, you have to do what you want to do. If you are hurt, say no and stop."
"What should I do?"
"You should do whatever feels right..." Cynthia smiled, and Patti giggled here... "and whatever feels good." I laughed too.
"Good advice!"
"Well, of course," said Patti. Pretending to be a haughty princess, she delicately nibbled a piece lettuce in her salad, and Cynthia and I called her 'Your Highness' for the rest of the evening.
As soon as we got back to the hotel I rushed upstairs, full of news and ready to tell Paul exactly what I was feeling.
I ran up to the door, unlocked it with my key, and burst in. There were all four of them, sideways turned to me........getting dressed. Not dressed yet, I should say, particularly not in the lower halves of their bodies. They all looked up, faces surprised and blood-red with embarrassment. I let out a little yelp of apology, and closed the door again. I sank down with my back to it and covered my mouth with one hand, face bright red and hot, ready to laugh and cry at the same time. Five minutes later, the door swung open and I fell onto my back. George looked down at me, smiling. I couldn't look him in the eye.
"So, then, Penny," he said in a sing-song voice, "what exactly did you see?"
I could only squeak out,
"Oops," before dissolving into laughter. I pulled myself up and walked to my own door, shoulders shaking in snorts of hysteria, but Paul got to me before I did. He pinned one arm behind my back.
"Come on, luv, you can at least tell us if you liked what you saw!" More afraid to look him in the eye than any of the others, excepting John, I could only laugh harder.
"Ach!" Paul threw up his hands in mock frustration and I locked myself in my room. In the Beatles' suite outside I heard chortles of laughter and whispers, and I pricked my ears up to hear what they were saying. I couldn't.
Three hours later I started getting ready for bed...I let down my hair, took out my contact lenses, (an often painful procedure,) also my nightgown from the dresser. I didn't notice, moron that I was, that outside of the door were scuffles and various other noises coming. Specifically, the voices of four Beatles. As soon as I closed the bureau drawer, and I had just gotten off my shirt, the door flew wide open and all of the Beatles burst in, all laughing and shouting to have caught me unawares. I shrieked and dove behind the bed, pulling on the nightgown with frantic speed. Luckily I had had my back turned to them, (I think,) and the humiliation was minimal. I was lucky. I quickly pulled off my skirt, flipped my hair behind my back, and stood up. John, Paul, George and Ringo were all lined up in a row, grinning sheepishly. I walked up to John, silently, face impassive, and, before he knew what was going on, jumped on him in a tackle. His yell of surprise was stifled by my pillow as he hit the bed, and I pounded him on the back with one fist,
"DON'T YOU EVER DO THAT AGAIN!!!" I yelled, laughing and only partially upset. John jumped up again and pulled both of my arms behind my back in one quick move.
"Get her!" he yelled, and Paul and George closed in around me with feather pillows.
"Wait!" I cried out, "wait, wait, wait, that's not fair!"
"Life's not fair!" they all chorused.
"I'll do anything!"
"You will?" John's looked interested.
"Oh, piss off, pervert!" I threw out at him. Paul looked amused, John was actually laughing, and George was chuckling himself. Ringo had backed away long ago.
"That's it!" John shouted, and he came up to me, "luv you've gone too far! You better run for your life if you can, little girl..." he raised his hand and prepared to tickle me.
"Eeeeeeeek!" I screeched, truly terrified, "NEIL NEIL NEIL NEIL NEIL NEIL NEIL!!!!" Neil Aspinall burst into the Beatles' suite and rushed into my room.
"What: what is it? Penny, are you all right?" Then he saw the predicament that I was in. "Oh, hee hee, I'll leave you five alone."
"WHAT?! I- BUT- EX-BENEDICT ARNOLD!!!!!" I yelled at him. He laughed in and left the room. I was almost sobbing now.
"John, stop....stop now....I meant it..."
"Well, I suppose that there's one thing you could do for me..." John said thoughtfully, scratching his chin.