6. The two voices

The next six months were absolute bliss for me. Even though we somehow never managed to find the “proper occasion” (whenever we did we got caught or interrupted), Paul and I were back together like it had always been meant to be. I saw how one day they climbed onstage and looked completely different. It all happened form one day to the other, a real sudden change; no more spitting, punching and cussing… and no more black leather. Brian had had the boys measured, fit and tailored with spiffy new black matching suits. It was obvious from the look on John’s face that he hated it, but Paul seemed to fit into the new idea quite comfortably. John would unbutton his shirt and wear the tie loosely around his neck, in his own mind defiance against convention imposed on him, but wore the darn suit all the same. Their attitude had changed; they now were cleaner, more punctual and played a set instead of whatever tickled their fancy. They would still do some requests, but more often than not, they would stick to their set and nothing else. In spite of John’s reluctance, it was clearly visible that The Beatles were becoming more and more professional under the influence of Brian Epstein.

A week after Paul’s birthday, they all went down to London for an audition at Decca. Paul was terribly excited and could have sworn that this was the big break they had been waiting for. But returning home three days later, they all looked terribly disappointed. Paul said that the head of Decca had told Brian that even though The Beatles were good, guitar bands were on their way “out”. They could not commit themselves to a passing fad, so they turned them down and sent them packing back home to Liverpool. At least, I told Paul, now they had a free, top quality demo to market them around. Brian, it seemed, didn’t stop at that. He continued going down to London to promote this great new band whom he swore to everyone, would one day be “bigger than Elvis”. Brian’s faith in the band pushed them to reach new levels and before long, they were known as no longer the best band in Liverpool, but in the whole county of Lancashire. I wasn’t too surprised when one day Paul came in smiling an ear to ear grin, telling me that Brian had arranged yet a second audition with a major record company, this time at EMI. It seemed an old family friend and former music teacher of his, Mr. George Martin by name, owed him a favour and agreed to listen to his four louts.

It was now late July and my birthday finally arrived. After a small reunion at home, the boys set up a get-together at the Cavern for me once the doors were closed to the public. I hadn’t particularly been looking forward to the big two oh, but it had finally come to the unavoidable point in which it would happen. Brenda came down from her new home in Blackpool and was a little dismayed when she learned her baby sister had returned into the arms of the fiendish heart-eater, but after roughly ten minutes of his charming bullshit he had her eating off the palm of his hand yet again. Paul seemed to have that effect on people. The other host of the party, however, didn’t impress her much. John was sharp tongued, had a chip on his shoulder and chose to deliberately piss people off. Brenda was no exception. She sat in a far corner with her husband Glenn, trying her best to stay away from the unholy quartet up front, playing a gig exclusively for me. When it was time to sing happy birthday and blow out the candles, Paul came up to me. –Val…

- Yes?

- Do you mind if I blow the candles with you? I ‘ave a wish to make…

- They don’t work unless it’s your birthday, silly boy!!- I smiled at him.

- Ok. –He sighed and smiled as he looked at me. –Then could you make a wish for us?

- That depends…- I gave him a warning look.

- It’s fairly simple. The lads and I are going to tha’ other audition in London two days from now; Wish for us to be successful… tha’ we’ll land a record deal…

I gave him a saddened look. –Fer wha’? So you lot can go off and make a million around the world and forget all about us?

- I’ve told you a million times…- He gave me a contained but slightly angered look. –I could NEVER forget you if I tried.

- That’s what you said when you was off to Hamburg.

- Listen, Val! - He took me by the shoulders. –That won’t EVER happen again. EVER! It’s a mistake I lived to regret and I ‘ave no intentions of letting it ‘appen again! You know my plan! I’ve ‘ad the plan all me life… It’s you and I, girl, all the way to the top or the bottom.

- Preferably the top…- I joked as the lights went off.

- That’s me girl! - Paul smiled finally as he held me in his arms and squeezed. –Now make tha’ wish…

- Ok…

The crowd sang happy birthday and produced a small cake for me. As I blew the candles, I had had the intention of wishing to be with Paul forever, but I wished his wish instead. “Please make the boys land a contract and gain that success they’ve worked so hard for all these years, they deserve it!” If I had only known what that success would carry both for them and for me, I would have wished my own wish instead.

That night, Mike McCartney had his camera with him. He dedicated at least ten photographs to his big brother and yours truly; one of the pictures I figured would turn out to be rather sweet once developed. We were both on the stage; he held me from behind around my waist and I had my hands on his while we both looked at the camera. I leaned on his chest and he leaned his head on mine. Neither of us was smiling; we just stared at the camera as we held each other close, maybe closer than ever. Two days later, when Paul had joined the other lads and Brian for their train trip to London, Mike showed me the picture. I begged him to let me have it, but he told me that the moment he had taken it, Paul had made his swear he’d let him have it. So the man had the keeps, it seemed.

I had a dream on the third night. I was staring at the boys on a stage, a large stage, before a huge audience of screaming girls, more manic and wild than the Cavern dwellers. Paul looked radiant, happy and like a true star. John was equally relishing in the moment. I don’t remember paying any attention to George or Pete, Paul being the main focus of my dream. I saw myself seated amongst the screaming crowd. In my dream, I had to get his attention, but my screams were stifled by the huge amount of teenage squeaks. I remember this horrible feeling of impotence, of wanting to tell him that I was there… But nothing seemed to happen. He continued playing his Hofner Viola bass, huge smile plastered on his face and unable to make out my voice from all the others. There was a growing sensation of despair as I tried to make my way past the hysterical crowd of birds, especially when I couldn’t get past a barrier of especially catty women who had all come together in a barricade at the front of the stage. I clearly remembered one of them pushing me back by the shoulders, away from making any possible eye contact with Paul. I was growing more and more desperate by the second… But the worst part came when Paul finally saw me. I waited for a smile of acknowledgment or a tilt of the head, or at least one of his trademark winks. But instead, he stared for a few awkward seconds before turning his face back to a blank spot before him, his smile the typical McCartney “charm-the-pants-off-anybody” grin, and all but ignored me completely as he continued playing his bass. I could feel the world suddenly come to a halt and the nauseating feeling of true dejection flushed through my very core. Paul no longer cared about me. I was just another speck of dust in his cosmos of grimy encounters, it seemed. I began to cry as I slowly turned and walked away from the scene while he continued to merrily do his thing on the stage. My own sobs woke me up. It was three in the morning and from that point on, I knew I would be unable to get a decent night’s sleep. Between the GCE exam that I had to do the next morning, Paul being away in London and the nasty taste of impending doom my dream had left in my mouth it would have been an accomplishment to get any sleep at all.

That morning I got out of bed with a thundering headache and huge circles under my eyes. Staying in bed seemed like an appealing option, but I knew that once you had booked a date for a GCE test you had to show up or they would simply scratch my name from the list, so I put on a brave face and a ton of powder to try and conceal the Dracula marks under my eyes and set out for my exam. On my way to the Institute for Girls I decided to stop by at the Jacaranda for a much needed cup of coffee, gulped it down like it had been water and went ahead to school. The exam started at 9:00 a.m. but I was there, standing by the hall with nothing other than a pencil and an eraser in my hand by 8:20. The wait was murder. I knew that once I had the coils in my brain powered up by the concentration of the exam I’d be able to pull through and then I’d go home and sleep through the day. But standing in the hallway with little to do was no help. I felt heavy, tired and for some reason, terribly sad. I tried to convince myself that this was no more than a silly dream showing me my own fears and that it had nothing to do with the future. I was no fortune-teller, at least I hoped for my sake I wouldn’t be. During the wait I began to quietly sing one of the songs the boys had written and loved to play, called “Ask Me Why”. By then, a rather healthy line of O-level exam-takers had begun to form. The girl standing behind me tapped me on the shoulder. I turned and she greeted me with a smile. – Big fan of the lads, eh?

- Pardon?

- You know, The Beatles! - She spoke, starry-eyed. –That is one of their songs yer singing, innit? One of the ones Paul and John wrote…

- Well, I…

- God, don’t you just love ‘em? - She jumped up and down. – Paul’s my favourite; he’s so, but so dreamy!

- Paul?

- Aye, Paul! The lefty, you know… the one that holds his guitar the other way around!

- It’s a bass…- I spoke between gritted teeth and turned back to the front.

- Ah, yes! That’s true! Oh…- She suddenly stood in front of me like some eager teenager. –Did you know tha’ they’re down in London right now?? Auditioning for EMI, I think it was!

I felt like I was going to be sick.

- Yes, I knew.

- God, I really ‘ope they make it! They ought to make it, being as luvely as they all are! And they play real good! They deserve to be…

- And may I ask if you ‘ave at all given it a moment’s thought what would ‘appen if they do make it? - I interrupted angrily. –I’ll tell you what would ‘appen… they’d leave the Pool. They’d belong to us no more. They’d never play another gig at the Cavern, they would never take your request fer a song… You’d never see yer beloved lefty in person again! Did you think of it, eh?

I must have spoken a mouthful; the girl went stone silent and her happy expression soon changed from “Wow, they deserve it” to a more pessimistic “Oh, dear God, I hadn’t thought of that!” one.

Cranky from a bad dream and very little sleep, I saw how the poor shocked Beatle nut turned around and stood back behind me in total silence. Her entire display had all but proven one thing: Girls loved them. That alone would give them a boost. She had used the term “dreamy”. I had never quite seen Paul as dreamy myself, but I figured it was as good a description as any. I silently toyed with what the world would make of them. Paul would be the “Dreamy Beatle”. What would John be? “The nasty Beatle”, George the “Baby Beatle” and Pete would be… Pete would be… I had no clue what Pete would be. It dawned on me then that odds were Pete would never be able to claim the prize for his two years of Beatledom. He was one of girls’ favourite band members and had a larger following than any of the others, but for some reason, I felt Pete’s character was ill-suited to fit the rest of the band. I had a feeling he would soon see the end of his days as one of them.

I finally sat down and took my GCE. The initials stood for General Certificate of Education, and would be a helpful tool in either joining other schools to help me train as a teacher or would come in handy in getting a very good job or apprenticeship as an assistant teacher at any level. Two exams were due to happen, the O-level and the A-level after that. I knew it was important for me not to blow this opportunity, especially thinking of the possibility that Paul might never make it to the top of the world and I would probably have to become the sole provider of the house. Musicians, especially has-been musicians, don’t earn a lot. Silently, I turned the sheet around and began to answer what I had been preparing for the past few months. I knew the exam itself was tough but for some reason by the time I was done I knew it had not only been a doddle but that I had probably aced it. Still, when I left the tiny little school classroom and headed out, the warm morning air made me sick to the stomach. I turned and walked in the general direction of the Art school. As it happened, Cynthia was on her way out when we met. She noticed I looked a little pale and offered to buy me a cup of tea. I excused myself with her telling her I had had very little sleep and saying a polite goodbye, made my exit. I decided to pass by to visit Maria, but when she didn’t answer the doorbell to her flat I figured she had to be off somewhere and I just turned tail and went home.

When I arrived I was but a shadow of myself. I felt knackered and ready to turn in for a few hours when the phone rang. Grumbling, I reached out to answer.

- Hello?

- You sound a right bloody mess! Are you ok?

The sound of his voice alone brought me back to life and I smiled as I answered.

- Paul! How’s it all going?

- Answer me first, luv… are you ok?

- Oh, just an ‘eadache, is all.

- Did you take yer exam today?

- Yes…

- And?

- I think I may very well be on me way to a great career!

- Gear, luv, proud of ya!

I could hear from the upbeat tone of voice that he had good news. My mind reeled and I no longer knew whether to be happy for him or desperately worried for myself. –And the audition? ‘Ow did it go?

- Oh…

- Well?

- Seems we ‘ave a record contract! Ha ha!!- He laughed over the phone. – Can you believe it??

A record contract… with EMI. My earlier conversation with that poor bird at school suddenly seemed impossibly close, but Paul sounded so great I didn’t dare to show my real emotion as I spoke to him.

- That’s just great luv! Tell us! - I said with fake enthusiasm.

- Well, this fella George Martin ‘as no experience with rock and roll groups, but ‘e was keen on us! - He chuckled excitedly. –‘E said we ‘ave potential. We’ll be signing the deal tomorrow. God, luv, we’ll be making records! There was one thing, though…

- What?

- Remember what I ‘ad told you about Pete?

- Yes…

- Well…

- Yer not…

- Not my idea…- He excused himself. –Mr. Martin says ‘e somehow doesn’t quite fit in. We’ve talked about it and we all want Ringo from the ‘Urricanes.

- I knew you’d end up sacking the poor fella…- I said as I sat down on the stairs.

- Well, luv, ‘e simply doesn’t fit in, won’t even dress or do ‘is hair like us! We’re a group, we’re supposed to do things together, not ‘alf face!

- Does Pete know yet?

- No… as soon as we get back to the Pool we’ll ‘ave Brian tell ‘im.

- Cowards…

- Too bloody right. I’ve no intention of being there when it’s done. John’s going to ‘ave a word with Ringo.

- And what will you do?

- Lay low…

We both laughed as he continued to tell me about his trip, how they had to be back in London by December and how Mr. Martin would find them a suitable hit song from an equivalent to Tin Pan Alley. John, he told me, was ready to implode with excitement and was in an incredibly pleasing mood with everyone, a new for a man like John. I told him that Cyn seemed a little distant from what I had seen and rather pale as well, but I had just assumed it had a lot to do with her missing her Johnny. I intentionally skipped on the episode with the girl at the cue for the exam, thinking perhaps that the last thing Paul would want to hear were my paranoid ideas of being dumped and exchanged for fame and fortune… and someone more glamorous to go with it. I just stuck to safe topics, one of which was their date to return. They would stay an extra week in London and would be back to play their gigs at the Cavern as usual.

- But I’m telling you girl…- He spoke with a husky, muffled voice. –You won’t get away this time…

- Away from wha’?

- From me… We started stuff ages ago and I don’t think I want to wait another second. I REALLY want to make love with you… And I mean, REALLY.

- Just so mum can walk in on us? Or yer dad or Mike? - I giggled. –I don’t fancy a hotel, luv…

- Who spoke of a hotel? I’ve other things in mind… Sorted out a perfect place and time for us. Just us this time, sweetheart…

- Other things?

- Yep.

- Wha’ other things??

Just then the operator announced that our time was up.

- Tell you all about it when I get ‘ome, luv. You’ll see, soon we’ll be living the good life! Like I promised…

- Just be sure to get back ‘ome in one piece is all I ask for, luv. –I sighed.

- Gotta run… Don’t forget me!

- Couldn’t if I tried. Love you.

- Luv ya too, sweet. Tarrah…

- Bye.

One whole week! Had he meant what he had said? What exactly was it that he had in mind? His words alone were able to make me loose any desire to get some sleep. I lay back on my bed, wondering exactly what it was he was up to. Well, I knew what it was, but the when, where and how were giving me a hard time. I stared at the ceiling, remembering it had been that very same place where it had almost happened a few months back and I felt a tingling sensation that stated from my chest and cruised down to my loins just with the memory of the feel of his lips on my neck. If he had worked something out, then so be it. It had indeed been long enough and there was no one else in the world I would want to have my first time with other than James Paul McCartney.

The following week drifted by in a haze of shopping for groceries. Mum and Walter had decided to get on with it and become engaged. There would be a huge celebration in our garden and everything had to be sorted out. This was way before the days where you could just go to the local supermarket and buy five packets of ready-baked kidney pies and sausage rolls. These were times when one had to do the whole deal, from kneading the buttery dough for shortbread to plucking the feathers off the freshly purchased turkey before stuffing it, buttering it and baking it. Sugar, while no longer a precious commodity was still somewhat pricey, so Brenda and Glenn sent in an extra pound for anything else we might have needed. I spent most of my time between checking with the school dean for possible exam results and mixing batters and fixing the sausage to dry and laundering tablecloths and whatnot. I personally saw to it that an invitation to the event got into the hands of Jim and Mike McCartney over in Allerton. Going there two days before Paul was due back home made sense, especially when Jim spoke ruefully and regretfully about not being able to attend, since he and Mike had booked a vacation at Butlins Holiday Camp with his brother, Paul and Mike’s Uncle Joe and would be away for the week, but that surely Paul would be back and would gladly be there in their place; having all those booked gigs in the Cavern, Paul could certainly not take the time off to go on holiday with his family and would stay behind tending to the small house on 20 Forthlin Road. It didn’t dawn on me then, but later that night, anticipation made me realise what Paul had meant when he had said he had a place and a time all figured out. His place… His bed, quite likely. That night I giggled myself silly and drifted to sleep.

Paul got home exactly two days later and another two days before the engagement party at my place. I was unable to see him in the newly rebuilt airport, since I had been told that the result of my exam was in and I had to go collect it and possibly see about the next step, which was an A level. As I had suspected, I passed the exam with flying colours and I got a personal commendation from the Dean on an excellent performance. I don’t think I was listening; all I could think about was Paul, being in his arms again, hearing his voice, husky and cooing like a dove, right into my ear. One week felt like a lifetime and just knowing we were both about to once again share the same breathing space made my stomach tingle in anticipation. I was happy enough with the result from my exam; I hoped to find Cyn, but I figured she’d probably gone to the airport to collect her precious four-eyed ex-Ted, so I simply made my way to Maria’s again. This time I found her there, putting some of her newly acquired art skills to practice. She informed me that she wanted to present the O-level with me, but had somehow arrived a little too late for registration. I wondered how she had managed to enter the Art College without at least an O-Level, but didn’t bother to ask when I remembered John’s version of how he got in himself. I told her there would always be another round the next year, and she made do with that. She congratulated me on my good results, wished me all the best and saw me off at the door, telling me she’d meet me the following night to see the Beatles at The Cavern together.

On my way home I daydreamt about the awaited moment; Paul and I, all alone, making love together for the very first time! It was all I wanted, at least at that moment. I didn’t know which day or time Paul had in mind for the big event, but I knew well enough it would probably occur before the engagement party- or right after that. I was deep in thought as I walked along the street when I became aware of a small contingent of women standing right in front of my house. With a bewildered sneer, I hurried my pace. Sure enough, there stood at least twenty birds… all flocking around their Beatle. Paul stood there, but looked nothing like the Paul I remembered… Or everything like him… just different. And at the same time, so bloody marvellous, I couldn’t help running to push past the dollies and throw my arms around his neck. He laughed and held me close, kissing me before the girls who stared daggers at me. His hair was a tad longer now, his fringe reaching just above his brow. His suit was new and was quite evidently very expensive, with a round collar instead of lapels. He also looked a little bit taller. He told me then and there that this was due to the fact that he was quite literally wearing higher heels; the boys had all gone out and bought matching Cuban heeled boots. He smelled and looked squeaky clean, nothing like the lout I had reencountered at the Cavern only two months earlier. He looked like… well, like a star.

We managed to make way through the crowd of girls who had spotted him and were finally able to make out in peace… If locking the door in the kitchen can be called peace, since the girls were peeking through the windows into the living room.

- Seems to me they got a tad wilder in one week…- He giggled as he held me in his arms. – God, luv, it’s so gear to see you. I missed you so bad…

- Oh, you ‘ave no idea…- I spoke back as I held him at arms length and eyed him head to toe. –New suit?

- Brian figured he’d get us this new thing… I feel like a bloody poof, mind you…

- No, no…- I dusted the pale grey jacket. –It’s absolutely fantastic…

- The Cavern Dwellers will hate it.

- Not if they think the same way those girls out there did, I reckon…

He smiled and kissed me solemnly before once again collecting me in his arms. –God, I feel as I’ve been gone a year! Tell us, darling, what’s new ‘round ‘ere?

I went into detail about how in two days mum and Walter would be celebrating their engagement. He raised an amused eyebrow at the idea of mum getting remarried, and while I wasn’t completely used to the idea, he merrily chimed that this was perfect for my mum and that he’d be delighted in showing up… just as long as he could leave at seven to do his gig at the Cavern. I asked him why he had shown up at my place, and after informing me that he had already gone to Forthlin to leave his luggage and bass, he told me he had tried calling and hadn’t found me.

- I actually thought you’d be there at the airport fer us…- he looked down and tilted his head to the side with a pout. –Then Cyn told us you’d been going barmy over that test of yours, so I figured I’d come over ‘ere… - He looked at me and a huge smile shone on his face. –What do you think, then, luv? Yer man is in a signed band! We’ll be going back to London in September. We start recording then. John and I ‘aven’t been going half bloody mad coming up with material!

- September?

- Aw, don’t worry luv! - He laughed. –Won’t be gone a week this time, just going for the day, like.

- And what will you do till then?

- Well, on the 22nd we ‘ave to be there at the Cavern and play our bloody best, to begin with…

- Why?

- We’ll be on national telly…- He giggled.

- Telly? - I smiled. - What do you mean telly?

- A show called “Know the North”…- He produced a packet of ciggies. –They’ll film the lunch gig.

- Will Pete still be in the band? This is next week!!

- Err…- He scratched his head and winced, looking into a distant spot beyond my shoulder. – Let’s just say Brian’s doing our dirty work right now…

- What if this Randy bloke won’t join?

- Ringo…

- Yeah, ‘im, then…

Paul chuckled, that prototypical McCartney determination clearly visible as he spoke to me with an overconfidently arrogant little smirk.

- He will… Who wouldn’t want to join us? We’re the hottest band around at pres time, luv! And we knew ‘im from way back in Hamburg. He’d sit fer pints and tell us that we’d be getting somewhere. Trust me on this, luv, ‘e’ll join.

We had to settle for a small kiss and cuddle session before it was decided that he needed to sit down and have a bite to eat. By then, some of the girls outside had cleared off just in time for mum and Walter to arrive. They caught Paul mid munch, his teeth sunken into a cheese and tomato butty, but were still all the same delighted to have him. Brenda and Glenn dropped in not an hour later, and while Brenda had still not quite forgiven Paul for the Hamburg incident, Glenn seemed delighted with him. As sure as my name is Valerie, Paul had managed to charm the pants off the family. When mum saw him, she made sure he’d promise to be there at the engagement party in two days time, Cavern or no Cavern. Paul seemed relieved to learn that it was mostly an afternoon event, since that day they would not be playing the lunch gig because Harry James, the owner of the Cavern, was having the place fumigated, so he had all afternoon to be there before joining the other lads at eight for the night gig. He’d have all day to himself, it seemed. He told me that he had something very special planned for us that day, starting early morning. He kept it a mystery, and from the playful look in his huge doe eyes I respected the surprise, knowing full well that that night I’d end up in his arms, no barriers between us, just our two bodies and souls together the way it had always been meant to be. I did tell him, however, that it was vital for me to be at home at three for the party. He answered in his typically super-secure way that it was perfect. Plenty of time, he assured me.

The two following days I didn’t see Paul. I was so busy cooking and stuffing and sewing and planting tulip bulbs that I almost completely managed to forget about our impending date with destiny, which was good, since it gave me something to keep my mind busy with and tired me enough to be able to sleep through the night. And it was during one of these nights that I lay in bed, sleeping soundly, when the sound of something hitting my window startled me awake. I turned to the clock on my bedside table and noticed it was still early… No, in fact, it was so early, God himself was probably still asleep. It was closing in on five a.m. I winced in frustration and was about to settle back down when another pebble hit the glass and jolted me awake. Huffing, I got out of bed and looked out the window. Who else was there but Mr. Charm in person. He had obviously come fresh out of the late night Cavern gig and had barely managed to wash a little before coming over. I opened the window and after a strong shiver caused by a gush of wind suddenly going through my window whispered out loud. –McCartney!! It’s ten to five in the morning!!

- Bright an’ early, as promised…- He replied with a disarming smile. –Got something to show ya!

- Wha’?

- Cum on down!!

I looked at the door behind me. –Yer not serious!

- I’ve got something for you…- He whispered with a huge grin.

- It better be good. If me mum wakes up we’re both in for it….

- Leave a note, say you ‘ad something to do.

- Like THAT would cut it!

- Go on!!

- It’s bloody freezing out!

- Ok, fine then…- He grabbed onto the pipe. –I’ll cum and get ya…

- No, no! - I stopped him. –I’d sooner freeze. Just let me get some decent clothes on…

Even though I knew I could get into serious potential trouble, the thought of being with Paul after two days of not seeing him was far too enticing. Besides, mum would not be up and about until roughly ten, so I figured I’d leave a note saying I had gone with Maria early to see something about her school. After haphazardly scribbling the note down, I slipped into a pair of jeans and a cardigan that I had handy, tied my hair up into a dishevelled little pony tail and opened the window fully. –If I fall, it’ll be YOUR arse on the line, Paul…

- If you do fall, I’ll catch you. –He chuckled. –And we’ll BOTH be in trouble then.

Whimpering both out of fear and cold, I slipped one foot out the window and secured it onto the pipe, then the other foot. I slid down slowly and quivered. How Paul and Mike could do this almost every day was beyond me. I was still six feet away from the floor when Paul’s hand reached out and grabbed my ankle. –I got you, luv…

- And you think that might break the fall??- I snapped back aggressively. –Grabbing me by me bloody ankle?

- Just steadying yer foot, is all… Go on, move the other one...

- I can’t!

- Sure you can, just takes practice! Go on…

- Ohh…- I moaned, grabbing onto the pipe as hard as I humanly could, sliding down slowly, feeling the cold lead against my chest and feeling even colder than before.

- There you go…- He giggled. –Just jump now.

- ARE YOU BLOODY MAD??

- Shhh!!- He giggled. - You’ll wake up the dragon in the cave!

- Why does this have to be so bloody early?

- Don’t want to spoil it luv, just jump!

- Ok… One... two… three!!

And I jumped. I felt terribly silly when I realised I had only jumped about two feet and was now safely planted on the ground. Paul hugged me with a laugh. –See? That wasn’t so tough now, was it?

- You can bloody talk…- I shivered again.

- Cold?

- A bit…

- ‘Ere…- He took off his jacket and placed it around my shoulders. –I’m not too cold…

- So…- I said as I slipped my arms into the jacket. –What’s this all about then?

- Ah! - He raised a little finger and grabbed my hand. –‘Cum ‘ead…

- Where are we going?

He led me across the garden and jumped the now higher fence that was once a short barrier from Mr. Conkers’s garden before turning to me. –Come on…

- You’re bloody mad…

- I’ll help you! Go on, fer old time’s sake!!

Feeling like a little girl, I flashed a smile at him and reached to wake up the tomboy inside of me. The tomboy woke up with a jolt and I found myself climbing over the fence like the brat I had been in my younger years. The little criminals were back! Bigger and improved, too.

- We do ‘ave to be quiet, though…- He took his finger to his mouth and grabbed my hand. – See that apple there?? Up on the tree?

- Yes. Looks good.

- Think maybe it’s time ‘as ‘cum?

- Think we can make a run fer it in case the people in there wake up, Paul? - I giggled quietly. –The fence is a tad taller than before, you realise…- Not to mention the fence around the tree itself.

- It’s all part of the fun. - He nodded. –Bigger legs, better sprinting power… Besides, I think it’s fer the apple’s sake. Take one fer the team and let’s get tha’ apple… Go on, think of the poor apple!

I smiled. –You ‘aven’t grown up at all, Paul McCartney, ‘ave you?

- No. - He shook his head and I chuckled. –Now, shall we?

Against my better judgement, I nodded and braced myself for the mischief ahead of me. We paced around the now fenced tree, remembering how we used to climb on each other’s shoulders as kids and just reach for apples, especially that huge one the day we had first kissed. That thought made me halt for a few seconds. First kiss… what would that be equivalent to today? Did Paul know this or was it just one of those strange coincidences? Knowing Paul very well and realising it was all probably well planned, I continued to stare at the fenced apple tree and its beautifully ripe hanging victim.

- Climb the fence? - I suggested.

- Get on me back and reach fer it…- He nodded.

I shook the little wire fence checking for sturdiness and nodded. –I think it’ll be a doddle…

- That’s the spirit! - He smiled and turned for me to jump on his back. –Go on!!

Almost as if on command, I hopped horsie-style on his back. He turned around and I steadied myself upright using the gate. I was close to reaching the apple when one of the lights in the house suddenly came on.

- Grab it!

- Paul!! There’s someone opening the window!!

- Then ‘urry! Get the apple!!

- Oi!! Who’s there??- Came a holler from the house.

The memory of Mr. Conkers running out with his cane in his hand and the two of us leaping over the fence like lightning made me suddenly reach high. Snatching the apple from the tree I skilfully hopped off Paul’s back. –Got it! Let’s go!!!

We lurched over the fence like some kind of professional burglar duo and we headed for the long alleyway that led to the old swings and playground. We laughed almost until we cried, and Paul applauded me when I produced the award winning Granny Smith. – We still ‘ave that touch!!

- Only now we’d end up in the pen fer it!!- I laughed. –That’s called trespassing, you know.

- I think it always was, luv! - He smiled back at me.

- Yes, well, we’re not seven any more. That might account for a slightly different penalty if we get nabbed! - I said as I rubbed the apple against the sleeve of Paul’s old leather jacket and took a bite. As before, my mouth watered and I handed the precious prize to Paul. He took another bite and closed his huge, soulful eyes.

- And, might I add the apples are still just as good as they were thirteen years ago…- He spoke as he chewed, before taking another bite.

We ate the rest of the apple in silence and by the time we were done it was about to be dawn. Although there was no sunlight yet we could hear a lark in the distance announcing the imminent sunrise. Paul chucked out the apple core and took my hand. –Cum ‘ead… We’re going to my place fer brekkie.

- Brekkie?

- Will you settle fer beans on toast and a cuppa? I’m afraid that’s all Dad and our kid left fer us.

We’d be alone at his place and I knew what that probably meant. I smiled and nodded, knowing there was nothing in the world I wanted more than this. –Beans on toast sounds fine…

We got into his car and by the time we reached Forthlin Road the sun was beginning to illuminate the sky with pinks and greens. The morning was beautiful. Only once before in my life had I woken up this early and seen the sunrise, but that previous occasion paled in comparison. The sky looked a pale and clear blue and the fresh smell of morning was wonderful.

- Ok…- Paul smiled as he pulled over right outside his home. He suddenly produced a large silk scarf. – I’ll ‘ave to bandage yer eyes…

- What?

- Told you… surprise.

- What on earth are you up to, McCartney?

- Do you trust me? - He stared at me with huge, limpid cow’s eyes. I couldn’t say no.

- Yes.

- Then allow me…- He said as he gently tied the silk scarf around my eyes as a blindfold. I heard him get out of the car and walk around it to open my door and help me out of it. Feeling around, he led me slowly to the front door. I could hear him using his key and as soon as he opened it the familiar smell of the McCartney household commingled with another familiar scent: Someone had just blown out candles. Paul sat me down on the couch. –No peeking, now!!- He warned and stepped away from me. – I’ll be back in a few minutes. Stay right there…

I heard him going upstairs, wondering exactly what he was up to. I could hear the muffled sound of his footsteps on the roof and coming back down. He hummed as he paced around the room doing… well, doing something.

- What are you up to, Paul??

- Shh… brekkie…

- And I ‘ave to be blindfolded fer it? What is it yer feeding me, lad?

- Ah, something veeery special. - I could feel him suddenly taking off my shoes.

- What?? What are you…?

I was interrupted with a kiss, a long lasting, marvellous kiss that felt more like a promise kept rather than lust.

- Oh…

- Before I take this off…- He whispered as he held me, sitting by my side and grabbing both my hands in his, rubbing them gently. –There is something I want you to know… I was at the Cavern till midnight. I came ‘ere right afterwards and set the place up fer us. I don’t want you to look back on this as just another day, Val, so…

- What ARE you on about, Paul? - I smiled.

After a sigh, he slowly reached and undid the knot behind my head to remove my blindfold. I could not believe my surroundings. All around were candles of all sizes, lit and flickering in the early morning light. In the centre of the living room, Paul had moved some furniture around and brought down his mattress from his room. He had taken the time of making the sheets on top in a nicely folded angle and a red rose waited for us in the centre. It looked like a honeymooner’s dream. I gawked at my surroundings, not believing Paul had it in him to do such incredibly romantic things. He didn’t seem to be that sort, not when he was a member of Liverpool’s number one band of teds (or former teds, anyway), not when tears and sentiment so rarely escaped him and not when he was the first disciple of “ole four-eyes”, as Mike referred to John. But now, sitting in the middle of his front lounge, surrounded by candles and held in his arms, he seemed to me as the most wonderful and sensitive young man I had ever known, and if I had loved him before, the sentiment had increased ten-fold.

- Oh, Paul…- Was all I was able to say.

- Like it?

- Oh…- I looked at him and I saw a small relieved grin on his lips. –Where did you cum by all of this?

- Cyn got the candles fer me. - He shrugged. –‘Er mum ‘ad a bundle of them from the war. I couldn’t picture sixty three candles in me room, wouldn’t fit if I tried, so I figured bringing the room down to us was a far better idea. –He looked for my stare and asked, almost as if he were expecting some sort of approval from me. –Is it ok?

- It’s bloody wonderful! - I smiled at him, tears stinging my own eyes. I hugged him and kissed his long black tresses. –I luv you so much…

- There, you, that’s exactly why I did all this…- He kissed my cheek and trailed down to my mouth ever so slowly. He suddenly stood and pulled the curtains shut.

- No, don’t! – I smiled. –The light outside is lovely…

- Won’t be when Beatle nuts start to gather round ‘ere and take peeks, luv…- He chuckled and continued to close them anyway before rejoining me on the couch. –It’s you I want to be with right now… Cum to think of it, it’s been you fer as long as I can remember.

- Doing “grotty-butties” in the school yard counts? - I giggled.

- Oh, Aye!!- He smiled proudly. –And the beating I took fer ya that afternoon also counts fer plenty. I still ‘ave marks on me bum fer that day!

- Get on!

- Straight up!- He smiled. –But it was worth it…

- We never did another grotty butty again, did we?

- No, but we’ve stolen an apple since! - He smiled with a glint in his eye. –And after we stole our first apple, we stole a kiss, remember?

- The first…

- Definitely not the last…- He said these last words with a completely different tone of voice, husky, wanting and manly. I looked into his eyes and they screamed for me. Bedroom eyes in all their splendour. Gently, he leaned forward and kissed me again, almost as if to seal the guarantee that we had been meant to be together from the very beginning. It was good, almost too good, considering it was only a matter of months before he’d probably ditch me for fame and fortune.

- Paul…- I spoke between kisses.

- Mmmhh... –

- You will… go again… won’t you?-

He stopped to look at me. –Go?

- To London… to stay…

- Soft…

- No, you will. The band’s going to be big.

- So wha’? - He caressed my hair and grinned at me. –I’ve told you before, yer coming along with me, no matter what…

That was all I needed. I nodded and let myself melt into his kisses. He stood up and carefully removed his boots, placing them neatly beside the mattress. By the time he turned to me I had already managed to remove the hastily clad jumper and sat there, arms crossed over my bare breasts, like he hadn’t seen them before. He gave me a knowing grin and a “you-should-know-better-than-this” look as he undid the buttons of his shirt. Once removed, he stood there staring at me, almost waiting for me to make the next move. –It’s fine, luv. We’re alone. No one will walk in; no one will get in the way. Just you and I ‘ere, Val…

- I know…

- What’s the matter, then?

- I…- I shook my head and looked down. –I’m not too sure I know how to do this…

That got an amused grin from him. –It’s all right. I do. You don’t ‘ave to worry, you’ll do fine. We both will…

Nodding I stood up and finally uncovering my breasts, I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed myself firmly against him. His body seemed to respond with that and I felt him wrap his arms around me, caressing my back and sinking his face into my neck, kissing it up and down, from my ear to my shoulder. I still didn’t quite know how to go the rest of the way but I knew I could trust him to be a good guide as he gently undid the button and zipper in the back of my skirt. I stood there, clad only in my knickers as the skirt slid down to the floor beside my shoes. Pulling apart and while he stared at my breasts with an amused demeanour, I fumbled around with his trouser button and managed to unzip him, but stopped and blushed fiercely when I felt his readiness behind the fabric of his underwear. So this was what they meant when they spoke about getting “hard”! I was very naïve and although instincts were slowly but surely kicking in, I hadn’t expected it to be so literal. He giggled at my sudden prudishness and pulled his own pants down as he sat on the mattress on the floor. I stared at him as he neatly folded his expensive tailored trousers and placed them on the couch beside me. He then caressed my leg and kissed it just above the knee. I could feel goose pimples invading me from head to toe and that alone almost did it for me. He looked up with an adoring stare and moved over on the mattress, holding his hand out to me. –Join me?-

I stared at him, lying there in his underwear, fully erect and pleading with his eyes, his breathing a little more intense. I decided to capture that moment in my mind, a moment that I knew I had to treasure forever. He did, after all, have a point. This would not be remembered as just another day. It seemed uncanny how I knew we had always been meant for this, but now that it was actually happening it was all many things at the same time: Wonderful, scary, intriguing, beautiful, embarrassing and amazing. I sighed and smiled as I lay down beside him. He leaned up on his shoulder and took the red rose from the bed, smiling as he ran it down my profile, from the edge of my forehead down to my breasts, circling each rosy nipple with the red petals, looking from there to my eyes and back.

- M… Maria said this might… hurt a tad…- I spoke sheepishly, feeling my own breathing increasing in speed. –Is tha’ so?

- Might do…- He whispered as he kissed my ear and pulled the blanket over us. –I’ll do me best not to ‘urt you too much… But you’ll like it in the end, tha’ I can guarantee...

- I like it already…- I whispered back, gasping suddenly and closing my eyes as his left hand gently played with my left breast.

From there on, we were stone silent, except for the gasps and moans that left both our mouths with an increasing frequency. Paul leaned over me and kissed me gently but with passion and determination that almost had me on the brink. I didn’t exactly know what the brink was, but I knew the feeling was closely similar to walking near the edge of a cliff. It was a feeling of strong anticipation, of waiting for something big to happen, and his hand suddenly exploring under my knickers made it even stronger. I felt him gently playing about and I gasped and arched my back when one finger suddenly slipped right in. I no longer felt coy or shy in any way. This feeling was way too good for any of that, and being there with Paul only made it more wonderful than anything I had ever experienced in my life. I made a quick mental note to once again thank the German brunette and continued to lose myself in the feel of his touch. He drove me to the very edge and I was suddenly aching for something more. I had no clue what I was doing, but instinct guided my hand to his fully hardened penis. I wasn’t thinking, just feeling, and I must have done the right move because the moment my fingertips first touched him he closed his eyes, swallowed and sighed with a satisfied smile. It was suddenly not enough anymore, either. I distracted my busy hand to remove his underwear so I could take a full look at him. The moment I made the first tug, he stopped touching me and helped me to undress him. I was dumbstruck. I knew what “boys” were meant to have, but to see him like this, in this state, was totally unexpected. For all my naiveté I seemed to be doing rather well. I didn’t even notice the moment he tried to pull my knickers off entirely until he had them down by my ankles. I must have been pulling quite a face because he took one look at me and laughed strongly before distracting my gawking stare with a powerful kiss. His tongue danced around mine in wonderful circles, and his hand suddenly reached for mine and grabbed it, fingers entwined together. Feeling him there, now on top of me, his hot skin in constant friction against mine was just about the most wonderful sensation ever, in many levels. I had never felt as close to the love of my life as I did now, and something in me told me that there was still another level of closeness; this was not, by any means, over yet.

He positioned himself on top of me and spread my legs with his own knees. Leaning on both his elbows, he looked at me intently and caressed my face with both thumbs. I knew Paul was difficult to read, but during those seconds before the grand moment, I could read everything. He was screaming love from every pore and follicle, aching and wanting and knowing this was also like a first time for him, maybe not physically, but spiritually. We were both new pilgrims in a foreign land in that sense. He slid one hand under my neck and held me, pressing my face into his neck as he slowly and gently entered me. The moment of glory was put on hold by a nasty feeling of flesh being pierced. I gasped and gagged and maybe struggled a little to free myself from this gashing pain, but Paul held me firmly to him and continued his penetration. In spite of the pain, I could feel him going inside of me, inch by inch, and I knew then this was as close to him as I could ever get. That alone made the pain recede and an overwhelming sensation of closeness and togetherness took over. He must have been all the way in when he released his grip on my head and looked at me. His face was flushed and I detected mild droplets of sweat on his temples. – All right? - He whispered as he stared quizzically into my eyes. I nodded and touched his face. If I had loved him before, having him there with me, in me and almost like a part of me made me realise just how strong our love was even then.

Still staring into each other’s eyes, Paul slowly began to move, in and out, a steady pace that only made the promise of falling over that imaginary cliff seem more like a primal urge, which in truth it was every bit at that. With every thrust I felt him love me more and more and I in return felt myself raise my body to fit it into his. He began to mumble repeated short phrases, namely “Oh, God” and “Oh, yes”. On my part, I felt dizzy with anticipation, just letting myself go to reach that edge that he had already driven me to, almost ready to jump off and freefall into whatever it was that I was meant to freefall into. The feeling was so overwhelming there was little I could do other than release gasping and gagging sounds. I spoke his name out repeatedly and felt with eager detail as he sped up and slowed back down. At some point he stopped entirely for a few seconds, breathed heavily and resumed the movement. It was during one of these speed-ups that I finally took the plunge and jumped off the edge of that emotional cliff. To say that the freefall felt good was an understatement; it was a complete abandonment of everything, almost like feeling my soul reach into his with a soaring squeeze of every organ in my body, and I was unable to hold back a long moan as he continued to move speedily inside of me. It did something to him too; he moaned with me and kissed me, almost silencing my own screams of undeniable satisfaction. Our two voices seemed to scream as one, knees trembling and both our bodies shuddering in unison; I felt him continue his exploration until he too began to moan louder and louder. I was suddenly overcome by a flooding feeling inside of me and he raised his head back and clenched his teeth tight before sinking his face into my neck, gasping and speaking out my name with a few more climatic thrusts of his pelvic region. He then tensed up and collapsed, dead weight on top of me, the most wonderful blanket I had ever held in my arms. We both lay there; one on top of each other, for what seemed a wonderful eternity. It had been just a small fraction of a moment, but while it had lasted we had exchanged a piece of our very souls. So THIS is why sex is such a great thing, I wondered, but marvelled at the incredible feeling of closeness it provided.

After a few wonderful minutes of cooling down he moved out of me and I felt the warm liquid oozing out. He looked down and then back up into my eyes. –Yuck…- He giggled and I giggled with him, although I felt everything but disgust at that moment. I was still recovering from the freefall when he pulled me away from “the wet spot” and cradled me in his arms, kissing my now messed up hair repeatedly and telling me how wonderful it had been.

- Did you like it? - He smiled, touching the tip of my nose with his finger.

- Yes…- Was all I was able to mumble back.

- God, you felt better than I ‘ad expected… - He leaned his head back on the mattress and stared at the ceiling, wide eyed and his chest going up and down in fast breaths. He looked wonderful, his cheeks a reddish shade and his skin shiny from sweat. It felt great to know I had done that to him and for the first time in my life I felt I had done something wonderful for someone else other than myself.

- It’s… bloody amazing…- I said as I stared at him. –I never thought…

- Naa, one never does until! - He laughed and turned his face to me. –Did it ‘urt much?

- For a bit there, but it was ok after a while…

- Val…- He turned to me again and placed his arm around my waist under the sheets.

- Mmh?

- Promise me you won’t forget this…

I turned to look at him, thinking maybe it was some sort of joke; it wasn’t. His eyes were locked into mine, almost demanding a serious answer from me as if to guarantee that he hadn’t put his heart out on the line for nothing.

- God, Paul, why would you imagine I ever would?

- I dunno…- he looked down at the sheet and shrugged. –I just…- he looked back up at me. –Those girls in Hamburg… they meant nothing to me. It was just like… shags, you know. But this…- he shook his head, wide -eyed. –If I tell you something, promise not to laugh?

I looked at him with disbelief. It wasn’t until that moment that I realised just how difficult it was for Paul to openly express his emotions, and I felt a sudden rush of love and appreciation for his trust.

- I would never laugh at you, you know that…

- Ok…- He pressed his lips together and braced himself before finally speaking his heart out. –I ‘ad never before felt this close to anyone… Not even you. But now, I… God, I could die ‘ere and now and I’d feel I’d die having had everything I ever wanted, you know… Fer all the times I’ve dun this, I ‘ad never… felt this good before. And it’s because of you, Val. You made it special. I can’t thank you enough fer letting me be yer first. Means the world to me… YOU mean the world to me. God, Val, I luv you so much, I can’t even begin to… to…- He trailed off and simply held onto me with a sigh, to continue speaking with a muffled voice that came from somewhere between heaven and my chest. –I know that… if we ever become separated, we’ll always be together in the end… We’ll always be together, I just know it.

Become separated? The possibility of that made my heart ache a little and I felt myself reach my arms around his head in a protective fashion. I would never want to spend a day away from him, but I knew his words rang true. They had proven so; Every time we fell apart something would always bring us back together. I remembered the day I had followed John, George and Maria into Paul’s house, how my fingertips instantly recognised the piano… how later on that very day we were sharing a kiss under the stars. How Cyn had dragged me to the Cavern and all that had taken for us to be as one again was one look into each other’s eyes. It seemed fate always had a way of pulling us back into each other’s lives.

- Yer going to be a star, Paul…- I whispered as I caressed his black hair. – You’ll ‘ave the world at yer feet. What then?-

- Eh? - He turned his face to me, furrowing his brow.

- Will you feel this way then? - I spoke. –If you do become big, we’d be miles apart more frequently than not… It’ll be hard, Paul. Do you think we’ll end up together even then?

Paul stared at me with a look of disbelief while the possible reality of the situation sank in. He pressed his lips together and leaned on my chest again with a sigh. –I dunno about the future, Val, I don’t ‘ave a bloody crystal ball. But as far as I’m concerned, there will always be a way to meet again in the end.

We spent the next few minutes in silence, just holding onto each other, his head lying on my chest, feeling each other’s breathing and heartbeats. Just the general feel of the moment was so good it almost equalled the lovemaking itself.

After a while we decided to get up and eat the beans on toast he had promised. There was a light mood in the air and after such extreme intimacy it felt good to just jest about like the true kids were really were. I laughed at a couple of stories Paul spoke about, but was absolutely stumped and lost for words when he mentioned Stu had actually died in April that year. I asked him why he hadn’t told me before and he was quick to answer that he really didn’t want to think about it much. He had spoken on and off about him but had never quite mentioned anything about his death. After some serious questioning he fessed up that he actually felt terribly guilty for not having been nicer to him while he was alive. I wondered to myself if Maria knew and realised it would be better if she didn’t. Poor Stu… At twenty one an aneurism had busted in his brain and he died of the resulting haemorrhage. Such a promising artist. Pity.

After a long chat, Paul finally opened the curtains. It was probably around eight in the morning, the sun was out and people were going about their business. Upon leaving 20 Forthlin that day to find Maria (and make the excuse of my early morning absence plausible to my mother), I walked the streets like a new woman. I felt so wonderful I made no secret of it; my face looked radiant. As soon as Paul and I found Maria, all she had to do was take a look at my face, and a wicked grin instantly arose on her lips. –Ah! You two have been… ehh… en la fornicazione, si? Good thing, yes? Mm, had a good time? Benvenutta, mia cara!! – It didn’t take a genius to know what “fornicazione” meant. Both Paul and I blushed furiously but were far too keen to deny it. We simply replied with a little kiss and told her my plan to fool my poor old mother. Being the cool young woman of her time, Maria instantly agreed to play along and readied herself to go to my place. Not before we stopped at a pub called Ye Cracke for a liberating toast on my initiation. Paul and I seemed sheepish compared to Maria but we always had a bundle of laughs with her. She made sex sound like something you just ticked off from a list of “things to do before 25”. Paul and I just grinned silently and giggled off her every joke. At some point, he held my hand reassuringly under the table; almost as if to assure me that to him it had meant a lot more than what Maria described. I needed no reassurance… I was the happiest woman on the planet that day, that much I do know.

Paul stopped at a florist shop, thinking it would be a good gesture (and a slick and suave way to get off the hook in case mum suspected anything) to buy a large bouquet of daisies as a present for the happy couple. I had expected a cross mum that morning, but as the three of us pulled over in Paul’s car, mum greeted us at the door, smiling and telling us she had only just put the kettle on. While she and Maria had a chat, Paul helped me with the garden decorations and we exchanged a knowing grin and wink when we overheard the neighbours talking to each other on how to take new measures against the “scruffs that had vandalised their precious apple tree” early that morning. We were relieved they hadn’t actually seen our faces, and Paul was even cheeky enough to peek over the fence and smile his charming little grin, complementing the neighbours on their gorgeous apple tree. When the friendly couple next door presented Paul with a nice big juicy fruit from their tree, I almost collapsed laughing. Paul simply grinned and shook his head as he dug his teeth into it.

I was amused to see he remembered how my garden was decorated the day I celebrated my seventh birthday, the day he presented me with that egg-shaped music box, which still worked like a charm and was loyally kept on my bedside table. While we reminisced, he hung a banner from the wall, swept off dry tree leafs and set the foldable chairs around for the guests. Finally, at eleven, he excused himself to go home, collect his bass and present himself for his midday session at The Cavern. He returned later (followed by the rest of the band, to Brenda’s great dismay, mum and Walter’s amusement and Maria’s thorough enjoyment), and we simply sat around, toasting to mum and Walt, smiling and all around having the time of our lives. Later on during the day, the boys produced some acoustic instruments and provided entertainment for the younger crowd. Some of them seemed to know The Beatles quite well and instantly took to dancing in what little space they could find. Even Glenn and Brenda enjoyed the music session! Cyn, Maria and I sat together, and soon enough Maria had spilled the beans about Paul and me to Cyn. John’s girlfriend, however, was nothing like her sardonic young boyfriend. She smiled and hugged me warmly, assuring me that it was the most wonderful thing in the world and that the more it happened, the better it would get. –Paul’s positively mad about you, that much is obvious! - She smiled. –It’s so sweet… you two definitely belong together, so as long as yer young and in love, it’s a beautiful thing to do!- I smiled to that and was secretly intrigued. COULD IT get better? I couldn’t wait to find out!

The afternoon was warm and the guests seemed to enjoy both the celebration itself as well as the sudden combo of young, scruffy-looking musicians and their impromptu jam session. It was, all around, a wonderful day. By the time they had to leave, Paul looked ready to die from exhaustion. He hadn’t been to sleep since the day before, setting up his house with candles and mattress and roses and whatnot. But that day, when we kissed goodbye, he swore to me that he had never been happier. And I hadn’t either; If I could look back and pick some days as the highlights of my life, this one had to be one of them. Paul had managed to engrave this day into my life like a spiritual tattoo… He needn’t fear. I would NEVER forget it.

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