FicWad

When I got back to the hotel that night I walked in on a ringing phone. It was Nicholas, my assistant, who was informing me that I was to stay in London for two weeks, showing the staff how do set up and break it down. I didn’t bother to mention that the staff members were more competent when I wasn’t around. I wanted to stay in England a little longer.
George phoned at ten the next morning, asking me over to his place for brunch.

“Don’t worry, Pattie’s cooking,” he reassured hastily.

I agreed to be there in fifteen minutes, so I had to rush and leave my hair long and shaggy.
George had sent a car to pick me up, so I simply climbed in and grinned at the driver. George had a very nice house. It was large and normal coloured, with a few flowers in the front.

“Hello?” I called as I entered the foyer.

Pattie popped her head out of a doorway on my right. “Ooh! Alice! You look smashing!”

I smiled embarrassedly. “You look amazing, Pattie.”

Pattie emerged, decked out in a pink apron and mittens. She gave me a hug and led me into her expansive kitchen. George was standing by the counter, stirring something and looking increasingly apprehensive.

“Alright, George?” I nodded at him with a cheerful grin.

He looked up to smile back. “Shall I add the milk, Pattie?”

Pattie rushed in swiftly. “Not you, I’m afraid, George. I can’t trust you with cooking.” Her deft hands snatched the spoon out of his hand.

George grinned sheepishly and turned his attention to me. “So how’s the exhibit going?”

I rolled my eyes. “They don’t need me here, they just need my face. It’s a bore sitting around the place, acting like I run the place.”

He frowned. “Then don’t bother going.”

“If only! If I stopped showing up they’d probably make me pay for my hotel. And the room service is lovely.”

Pattie laughed. “Well, that’s certainly a deal-breaker. Will you pour the milk while I stir, Alice?”

George looked offended. “What? You trust Alice but not me?”

“Alice is an excellent cook, silly.” Pattie smiled at George affectionately.

“She could be a terrible baker.”

I snorted. “Women have a natural instinct for this George. I know you’re a bit jealous.”

We were making scones, and I could hardly wait for them to cook so I could devour them. I had three, and insisted I take the recipe home.

“It’s just a regular old scone, Alice,” Pattie giggled.

“Mhmm,” George agreed with his mouth full.

I smiled. “I don’t care. Those were heavenly.”

“Take them all,” Pattie boxed the six remaining scones. “I can make more.”

My eyes lit up and I felt a smile stretch across my face. “Oh, thank-you Pattie! I have to get back to the Indica, but we’ll get together soon! Bye, George!”

George said good-bye, and he walked me out to the car I smiled gratefully and climbed into the car, feeling lonely again.
~

“Everything’s fine, Liam,” I smiled into the phone. “I promise.”

“No Englishmen?” he growled playfully.

I laughed. “Right, although they all fawn over me.”

Liam laughed softly. “So guess what?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m coming to visit you.”

I gasped. “What? When? Why?”

He chuckled again. “I’m coming to visit you in two days because I love you.”

I blushed. “I can’t wait, Liam. I really can’t.

The next day, my feelings weren’t precisely that as I whined to Cynthia on the telephone.

“How am I supposed to tell him I’m with the Beatles?”

“You could say: I love you. Did I mention I love the Beatles?”

I snickered. “I don’t know why I never told him.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Cynthia reassured me. “It’s not very important; they’re just some boys you met in New York.”

I nodded, breathing slowly. I had nothing to worry about. I opened my mouth to say something, but I looked up to see Paul entering the Indica. “Oh, I have to go Cyn. See you later?”

“Dinner,” she insisted. “John’s been bugging me about it.”

I hung up the phone and turned to Paul, who was now right next to me. “Hello,” I said pleasantly.

Paul smiled nervously. “Can we go for a walk?”

I nodded numbly and hopped off the stool I had been sitting on. Paul’s fingers brushed mine, and I felt myself glance at his face. God, I’d forgotten how handsome he was. I had made sure to stop looking at him when I got here.

He led the way into what looked like some sort of park. We sat on a bench. “This has become my Central Park,” he commented.

I glanced around. “I’m glad you found one.”

“It doesn’t compare with the real one. Not really,” Paul considered, looking everywhere but me.

I sighed impatiently. “Obviously. You’re always calm in Central Park. You’re shaking like a leaf.”

I touched his hand to prove my point. He shuddered violently. I blushed with shame and removed my hand hastily and sat on it.

Paul looked at me with a pained expression, and I was forced to look back. His eyes...how had I forgotten about his eyes? They were beautiful, brown pools of...no! I’m not going to get lost in his eyes; that’s just what he wants!

I forced myself to look at my toes instead. My hand was falling asleep.

“I want to say sorry,” Paul offered, trying to relax.

I nodded. “You already did that in New York.”

“But were you listening?”

That struck me. He did watch my emotions, after all. “I suppose not.”

Paul shook his head satisfactorily. “So let me say it again.”

“You already did. Can I go back to work now?” I asked impatiently.

He looked hurt. “Can’t we talk?”

I shrugged. “Things have been tense between us...”

“And I’m trying to fix that.”

“Trying is the key word, I see.”

Paul grew frustrated. “Look, I’m sorry for kissing you in New York when I shouldn’t have. Can’t you forgive me?”

My heart wrenched. Why did I care? It was only Paul. I cracked a weak smile. “I’m sorry too. I don’t know why I over-reacted.”

Paul looked immensely relieved. “Jane and I aren’t speaking.”

I frowned. “Oh, I’m really sorry now. What happened?”

He closed his eyes. “She doesn’t want what I want. She wants to focus on her acting career.”

“And you want a family,” I finished sympathetically.

Paul’s head shot up. “How did yeh know that?”

I reddened. “You told me. Back in New York.”

He relaxed. “Well, yeah. I do. Gardening, grandchildren...the lot.”

I grinned. “You want to garden your grandchildren?”

Paul smiled, but his eyes were hurt.

“I’m sorry, Paul. For everything.”

“I know you are.”

I hadn’t noticed until then how physically close we were. My heartbeat sped up as Paul leaned down to kiss me. His lips were barely brushing mine so I yanked myself away.

“Alice?” he sounded confused. Well, so was I.

I winced and got up from the bench and faced the horizon. “I can’t believe this.”

“What? What can’t you believe?” Paul asked soothingly. He was standing up now, and he was hugging me from behind.

I wriggled out of his arms. “I can’t do this.”

“Oh? And why is that?” Paul was smiling at me playfully.

Taking a deep breath, I held up my left hand. “I’m engaged,” I told him shakily.

Paul looked completely shocked. “What?”

I felt the tears coming. “As of Valentine’s Day.”

Paul looked hurt. “I...I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s not all.”

His eyes widened. “You’re pregnant!”

I laughed humourlessly. “No. He’s coming to visit me. Tomorrow.”

Paul was silent for a while. “Well, Alice. You certainly had your revenge.”

My heart sank. “Paul, it wasn’t supposed to be revenge at all! Honestly.”

“Then why did you let me kiss you?”

I stomped my foot angrily. “I didn’t let you! I shoved you off!”

“We kissed, Alice!” Paul growled.

“It wasn’t a kiss! It was a...a...a peck!”

“FINE!” Paul shouted. “It was a bleeding peck! But why did you let it happen? You’re engaged, damn it! And I’m with Jane!”

I felt the pressure building. “Because I...I dunno. I was just caught up in the moment, I suppose.”

Paul froze, and a grin spread across his face. “You suppose?”

“Yes!”

He laughed out loud and proceeded to hug me. I giggled with him and hugged him back.

Paul’s smile widened. “You’re engaged.”

“And he’s coming to visit tomorrow,” I added brightly.

Paul nodded. “The lads and I will meet up with you two for a while.”

I raised my eyebrows suspiciously. “Will you be playing nice?”

He flashed me a grin. “I always do, don’t I?”
~

Liam arrived on the ten o’ clock flight the next day. It was good to see him, and to wash my mind of Paul and the peck from yesterday.

We spent the rest of the morning at his hotel. Ahem. He was booked in a super-posh hotel about twenty minutes from mine. I didn’t want to switch my reservation, so I kept my luggage and everything at my original hotel.

John phoned me later on to let me know that he had informed George and Ringo about the engagement and they were having us over for dinner at Kenwood tonight.

No excuses valid, he had said.

“No valid excuses,” I snapped at Liam as he groaned, refusing to leave.

“Maybe I don’t want to go to some fucking Beatle’s mansion to drink tea and eat cookies,” Liam retorted, smiling slightly.

“Biscuits,” I corrected instinctively.

He frowned. “What?”

“We don’t eat cookies, we eat biscuits.”

Liam shrugged. “Look, I don’t want to go.”

“Liam, I’ve already said yes,” I sighed tiredly.

He groaned loudly, but he got up and kissed me pleasantly. “Okay, then. But only because I love you.”

I grinned at that. “Don’t dress up too fancy!”

Liam laughed and shut himself up in the bathroom. I was wearing a red dress that I had been dying to wear for ages. Liam emerged wearing a collared shirt. At least he skipped the tie...

John looked bemused as we greeted each other.

“Is this ‘im, then?” he whispered in my ear.

I nodded sternly. “It’s him.”

Lennon laughed lightly. “Cor, Alice. I hope he’s good for you.”

Cynthia was happy to see me again, as I was of her. She was great company, and she seemed happy enough. John, on the other hand, seemed infinitely glum. Perhaps it was the looming tour coming up. They were scheduled to play in Shea Stadium in the U.S. Imagine all those people, screaming just for them.

Julian, John and Cyn’s son, was possibly the saddest boy I had seen in a while.

“Why don’t you play, Jules?” I asked concernedly.

Julian looked around carefully. “I don’t want daddy to be mad.”

I was taken aback. “I’ll make sure he doesn’t. Go play as loud as you want.”

Julian flashed me a bright smile and ran to get his toy trucks. I smiled after him and made a mental note to talk to Mr. Lennon after dinner.

George and Pattie arrived shortly after Liam and I. Ringo and Maureen arrived later.
Paul showed up in the middle of dinner.

“Great timing, McCartney,” John rolled his eyes.

I laughed along with George. Paul frowned. “Sorry about that. Is this Liam, then?”

I beamed. “Yep. This is Liam.”

“Hello,” Liam said pleasantly.

Paul smiled superficially. I glared at him.

This was going to be one odd dinner.

The Beatles were on their best behaviour in some ways. No swearing, no drugs, limited alcohol. But they were on the attack.

They were grilling Liam about absolutely everything. I was thoroughly embarrassed. Ringo was quite subtly about it, teasing the answers out of Liam.

George always asked the questions with a grin, to reassure Liam this it was all in good will. I appreciated that. John and Paul seemed to have two settings: protective father and protective body guard.

I laughed out loud at some of the questions asked.

“Are you loaded, then? How big is your house? Do you have any mistresses? How large is your bed? Do you like pizza? Do you own a swimming costume?”

Liam started getting more and more annoyed with these Beatle fellows.

“Do you mind if we duck out?” he murmured into my ear as we settled down on a couch in John’s living room. The room was buzzing with conversation.

“Yeah, I do. I’d like to stay.” My reply came out ruder than I meant it to.

Liam raised his eyebrows. “Well I want to leave.”

I was struggling to keep my voice at a whisper. “Liam, these are my friends.”

“Right, your friends. I don’t care for them.”

I sucked in a breath. Paul was looking at us. I plastered on a smile.

“I think Liam and I are going to get going,” I said in falsely cheerful voice.

John’s brow wrinkled. He caught on to the false ring. “You sure, love? We’d like you to stay.”
Liam wrapped an arm around my waist. “We’re a bit jetlagged, I’m afraid.”

“Alice has been here for four days,” Paul said flatly.

I blushed. “Paul. I will see you later. And all of you. I promise.”

Everyone said their goodbyes and I was silent in the car, suddenly feeling immense hatred towards Liam and his stupid Australian accent. I decided I liked Liverpudlian better.

“That was the worst,” Liam declared as we neared his hotel.

“I had a great time,” I retorted, folding my arms across my chest.

Liam didn’t bother to look apologetic. “I don’t much care for your friends, I’m afraid.”

“Same to you.”

He frowned. “Are you coming in?”

I shook my head. “I think I’ll head back to my own hotel.”

Liam shrugged and slammed the car shut. I turned to the taxi driver.

“Will you take me back, sir? I don’t fancy going to sleep at nine-thirty.”

The cabbie laughed and dropped my off back at John’s. There were a few girls hanging around his gate, so I walked ten paces to a telephone booth.

Cynthia answered the phone, giggling. “Hello?”

“Cyn! It’s Alice! Will you let me in?”

“Alice?” she hiccupped.

I laughed. “Yes, yes. Can you let me inside?”

“Hang on, Alice.”

She hung up.

Seconds later, John emerged from inside the house and the girls cooed. John waved and '
grabbed my arm.

“Come ‘ead, Alice.”

I took his arm gratefully.

“Where’s yer fiancé?” he asked.

“At the hotel,” I said defiantly.

John looked surprised. “Well, then. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, love.”

The house was more cheerful without Liam here to mess everything up. Paul’s mood improved and Liam became the object of many jokes and insults for the rest of the night.

Many of them came from me.

The rest of the night was far more innocent than I would have thought. There was a bit of drinking, but that was all. We just talked for most of the time. I fell asleep on the couch at two in the morning.
~

I was awoken the next morning by Julian, who ran around screaming his head off with delight when he saw daddy sleeping on the piano.

I saw John open his mouth with a scowl on his mouth and I jumped in quickly. I giggled and gave a John that told him to shut his gob.

He did.

“I meant to ask, John,” I yawned at the kitchen table, sipping my tea. “Did you ever get my Christmas gift?”

John smiled brightly. “You sent me a present?”

“Yeah, ages and ages ago!” I insisted.

“When? In December?”

I blushed. “Actually, it was mid-January.”

John snorted. “You sent me a Christmas in the middle of January? What kind of friend are you?”

I laughed. “I’m not very organised about these things. I’m guessing you didn’t get them.”

He shrugged. “They’re probably somewhere around here. I usually toss all the mail in one room.”

I rolled my eyes. “How responsible of you.”

“Says the girl who sends out Christmas presents out a month late.”

I ducked my head in embarrassment. “Touché.”

After breakfast, John showed me the mail room. It really was stuffed with envelopes and packages.

“I organise them to an extent,” Cynthia assured me. “The more recent ones are in the front.”

I laughed, and I delved into the January-ish areas and poked and prodded around. Cyn went to get some cleaning done, and John got tired of looking after a while, so he retreated downstairs to watch some telly.

It took about fifteen minutes for me to find my plain brown package, hidden amongst millions of identical copies. I found Ringo, George, and Paul’s presents too. How odd.
Carrying all four of the packages downstairs, I threw John’s idly at his general direction. He caught it with surprisingly fast reflexes.

“Is this it, then?” he joked, peering at the rather small box.

I grinned. “Yeah.”

“Why is George’s so big?”

I laughed. “I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it once he opens it.”

“Are you going to get going?” John asked casually.

I nodded. “Tell Cynthia thanks for me.”

“I will.”

A taxi was summoned and I hopped in. I stopped at the hotel for a shower and a change of clothes, and then I asked the cab driver to take me to EMI.

I walked into the lobby to see a pretty blonde working at the front desk.

“Hey, can you give this to Paul and Ringo for me? Tell them it’s from Alice Westwood, yeah?” I hoped she would.

“Sure, sure. As if they know you!” She had a posh accent.

I smiled sweetly. “Look, you tell them. I’ll be around tomorrow. If they really don’t know me, you can have a laugh at me then.”

The receptionist smirked. “Deal. See you tomorrow, then.”

I hopped back into the taxi, cursing the fact I didn’t have a car in England. I gave the cabbie George’s address, and I paid up before stepping out of the car.

There were no gatebirds in front of George’s house. How odd.

I walked up to the gate and rang the little buzzer.

“What?” George snapped through this intercom.

“George, it’s Alice. Can I come in?” I asked tentatively.

His voice relaxed immediately. “Alice! Sure, ‘ang on a tick.”

George ran out into the front garden with no shoes on and let me in.

“Presents?” his eyes were twinkling as he motioned towards the package I was clutching.

I shut the door behind me and laughed. “Yes, a Christmas present.”

“Christmas was ages ago, love.”

“Oh, I know. It got lost in the post and mixed in with the fan mail. It somehow ended up at John’s place,” I explained.

George took the offered package eagerly and ripped it open. I’d forgotten that I’d bought him a mop. On the white handle, I’d written, “For George, the dirty mop-top. Start cleaning up after yourself!”

George laughed out loud. “I love it, Alice,” he said genuinely.

“You do?” I asked hopefully. “It’s rather daft, thinking about it, but...”

“I like daft things,” he gave me a lopsided grin. “Why do you think I’m friends with John?”

I chuckled. “I’d better hear of you using it.”

“Oh, you will.”

“Eight days a week?”

George made a face. “Make it seven and we have a deal.”
~

He boiled some tea and we sat drinking in the back garden. George wasn’t looking forward to the tour in America.

“I like the quiet life, is all,” he told me carefully.

I fully understood. While Paul still enjoyed the hectic bustle of touring and being a Beatle in general, the novelty was slowly fading for the others. However, even George was impressed by the Shea Stadium idea. I told him about my engagement and he smiled.

“Sounds perfect,” he admitted.

I winced. “Perfection doesn’t exist though, does it?”

“That’s what they say.”
~

I had forgotten all about Liam until I saw him in the lobby of my hotel.

“Hello,” I said coolly.

Liam frowned. “Where were you?”

“Delivering the post,” I replied starkly.

“For three hours?”

Had it really been that long? “Sure.”

Liam’s brow knitted. “I think we need to have a chat.”

“Oh you do, do you? Then chat with the wall, because I’m off.”

And with that, I flounced to my room and fell asleep.