Ringo finds an interesting piece of George in John's guitar case.
“Hey, Rings- whatcha doin’?”
George Harrison had just walked into Abbey Road Studios to find Ringo Starr searching through John Lennon’s guitar case.
“Oh, hey, George,” Ringo replied, still looking. “John asked me to get somethin’ out of here.” George put opened his own guitar case, took out his guitar, and starting tuning it. “You wouldn’t believe how much stuff John keeps in here.”
“Oh, really?” George said. “Like what?”
“Like… like me drumstick that I was lookin’ for last week,” said he, taking out the newly found drumstick and putting it next to him.
George laughed. “Anything else?”
“Let’s see…” All of a sudden, something caught his eye. Underneath a stack of song sheets was a photograph of a happy, 16 year-old George. As he pulled it out, Ringo noticed that in his arms was a small baby girl. He looked at the picture, confused. “I found you… I think…”
“Let me see!” George jumped up to him and took the photo. His previous smile disappeared as his face slowly grew pale. His eyes were fixed on the little girl.
“That’s you, right?”
“Yeah, that’s me alright…,” George hesitated, still staring at the photo. “Where’s John?”
“Right here!” John said as he entered the room. “Whatcha got there?” he asked, stepping right next to George. Seeing the picture caused his face to fall as well, but not as much as George’s. He sighed. “I found this a little while ago,” he said softly, which was surprising, considering how loud John was. “I thought you’d like it. I was going to give it to ya before, but I guess I forgot.”
George bit his lip as he nodded. “Thanks,” he mumbled, then he rushed out the door, the photo still in his hand. He brushed against Paul McCartney as he walked in.
“’Ello!” Paul greeted. He turned to look at George rushing down the hall, then back at the others. “What’s up with him?”
“I gave ‘im a picture of ‘im and Charlotte that I found a while ago,” John sighed. Paul nodded understandingly.
John and Paul looked at Ringo as if they hadn’t noticed he was in the room. They looked at each other, then back at him.
“Um… you don’t want to get involved, Ringo…,” Paul answered slowly.
“Yeah, ya really don’t, Ritchie,” John agreed. “Just forget anything ever happened, yeah?”
“Okay…,” Ringo sighed.
The three sat around in an awkward silence, waiting for something to happen- George to come back, preferably in a better mood, Brian to come in and yell at them for not doing anything, somebody to come in to tell them they had a telephone call- anything.
“I’ll be right back,” Ringo replied, breaking the awkward silence. “I need to go get somethin’.” He left the room, went down the hall, and popped his head into the bathroom.
“George?” Ringo called quietly. “Are ya in here?” He heard a noise that sounded like someone trying to hold their breath to stay quiet. He looked back in the hallway, making sure no one was watching, and entered.
George was sitting against a wall, crying softly. One hand held his head up, the other the photo.
“You okay?” Ringo asked. George bit his lip and had trouble to keep his eyes on the older man.
“Not exactly…,” he finally mumbled.
“Who is she?”
“They said her name is Charlotte.”
Total silence. Ringo sighed and turned to leave.
“She was me daughter,” George said softly.
Ringo looked back at him, a confused look on his face. Questions such as With who? Where is she? What happened to her? raced through his mind, but the only question that came out was “What?”
George sighed. “She was me daughter,” he repeated and little louder.
“I never knew you had a daughter…”
“Well, I did… a long time ago…”
“But wait- why did John have the picture?”
“Cos she’s his daughter, too.”