No Place to Go

Mabel winced slightly at her sister’s tightening grip.

“Mae! Loosen up, will you?” She said through gritted teeth. “You’re going to break my fingers off!”

Mae whispered a hurried apology and let go of Mabel’s hand. She balled her fists at her sides as she craned her neck to see who was coming out of the black car.

A door opened, revealing a hand attached to its handle. One denim-clad leg untangled itself and set foot on the pavement and then another. Two feet, protected by white tennis shoes. The rest of the person’s upper body appeared. A white, neatly pressed shirt, a shock of dirty blond hair, and a face that belonged to that of The Beatles’ music producer. It was George Martin. Audible sighs and groans of frustration and disappointment rang out among the cluster of teenage girls.

Mae shifted on her feet as she watched the man disappear through the door. She turned to face Mabel, only to find her busy in conversation with the girl, Lorelai. Mae muttered something unintelligible under her breath and spun around. She let her mind wander off in mindless daydreams of meeting Paul and being whisked off to a far away place where no one would find them. But she was rudely brought back to reality by a rough shove on her right shoulder.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry!” Exclaimed a tall girl beside her. “I didn’t mean to bump into you!”

“It’s alright, just an accident.” Mae smiled.

“No hard feelings?” The girl laughed, extending her hand. “I’m Isabelle. Call me Izzy, though.”

“I’m Mae.” She shook Izzy’s hand. “Are you here to see The Beatles?”

“Obviously, but I’m hoping to catch George a bit more than the others.”

“Ah, well then, I guess that means we won’t be fighting over the same Beatle!”

Izzy giggled and asked Mae who was her favorite, to which Mae promptly responded it was none other than Paul. Both girls immediately got to talking. They huddled together in a little corner, while Mable and Lorelai continued talking on the sidewalk. The minutes passed, and the sun managed to summon some power over the rain and sleet. Still, there wasn’t any sign of any Beatle. Some of the teenagers started to grow restless, but out of loyalty to their boys, they stayed put.

Loyalty, though, doesn’t last forever in some cases. After a couple of uneventful hours, the crowd at Abbey Studios began to thin out as tired girls threw their hopes into the frigid air and walked home dejectedly. Now the count had gone down from about fifty or so to seventeen.

Well, it’ll mean less girls to fight over Paul, Mae thought contentedly. She surveyed the scene around Abbey Studios. The reaming mob of adolescents stomped their near-frozen feet on the ground in efforts to get the blood circulating in their legs. Their breath sent up small clouds of white air into the dimming sky as they conversed animatedly. Their chatter was a constant hum above the sounds of rushing cars and trolleys. Passersby would sometimes take a brief moment to stop, look over the tightly packed group, and shake their heads as they walked on. Beatlemania had long since passed, but it didn’t hinder fans to camp outside a Beatles’ residence or even Abbey Studios, which was becoming an ever popular stopover for ardent groupies such as Mae, her sister Mabel, Izzy, and Lorelai.

Mae grunted, forcing herself to walk about the sidewalk. She rubbed her hands through the layer of fabric, hoping to generate some warmth into them.

“Mae, you alright?” Mabel caught up with her younger sister, giving her a sincere look of concern.

“Couldn’t be happier.” Mae replied, a little too dryly. She paused, noting the hurt in her sister’s face.

“I’m sorry.” Mabel hung her head. “I just thou-”

“Don’t apologize Mabe. This is the best birthday present you’ve given me in a while,” Mae laughed softly.

“Now if only Paul … or anyone … would just show their face to us, then I’d be complete.” Mae gave Mabel’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. At that moment, Izzy came up behind Mae, giving her a small poke on her side.

“Hey you, thought you’d ran away.” Izzy shot a grin in Mabel’s direction.

Mae introduced both girls to each other and they walked back to Lorelai, who was also introduced to Izzy. Izzy and Lorelai found an instant acquaintance with each other, being that they both lived in near proximity. They talked about their long and tedious travels, sharing the tales with Mabel and Mae.

“Where do you two come from? Not too far, I reckon.” Izzy said, looking over both sisters and their posh clothing.

“We live here, actually. In London.” Mabel answered, the hard mask of rebellion finding its way back onto her face. She never did like it when people would label her and Mae as two toffee-nosed girls.

Izzy sniffed and quickly adverted her gaze under Mabel’s smoldering glare. Lorelai shifted around uncomfortably, silent for some time.

“Oh look!” One of the girls in front squealed.

“Oh my god, is it him?!”

The four girls scurried further up ahead to see that the commotion was about. The door to the studio jangled open, and out stepped out John in his round little glasses and mustache that framed the sides of his mouth. He gave the small gathering of girls a smile. Behind him were Paul and Ringo, who also wore grins upon their lips. George was the last to push his way into the crowd, his face somber as always.

“Well, well. Aren’t you a lot of lucky birds?” John proclaimed as he started signing autographs for frenzied fans.

Lorelai quickly separated herself from the group, disappearing as she went up to greet her idol. Izzy did the same, only making a beeline for George instead of John. Mae stayed rooted in her spot as she caught Paul’s eye. He finished signing a piece of paper and walked over to the shy girl.

“Hullo there, what’s your name, luv?” He asked politely as Mae thrust a copy of Sgt. Pepper into his waiting hands.

“Mae Suttler.” She said quietly.

Paul mumbled something of a compliment and began to jot whatever message came to his head at the moment.

“And could you make it special, birthday like?” Mabel interjected, flashing a grin at Paul.

“What’s this! A birthday girl, eh? How old?” Paul stopped writing, looking at Mae expectantly.

“A ripe eighteen!” Mabel giggled, flirting with Paul.

He looked back to Mae for a confirmation and received a small nod. Paul grinned largely, scribbling down a special birthday message for Mae. After he was done, he turned around and yelled at the other Beatles to get their attention. John, George, and Ringo paused in whatever they were doing to look curiously at Paul and Mae, who’s cheeks were turning deeper shades of red by the minute.

“Eh, fellas! We’ve got ourselves a birthday girl today.” Paul announced, pointing to Mae.

The other three put on big smiles, that were almost creepy, and walked over to the girl who stood clutching her signed copy of Sgt. Pepper. She bashfully handed it to John, who looked over McCartney’s message and wrote down something of his own, filled with his usual crude humor. Ringo was next, writing down a sweet birthday message. Then George’s long fingers pried the record away from Ringo and he looked over the album thoughtfully. Finally, he wrote down an insightful note one could tell came from George Harrison himself. He gave it back to Mae, a ghost of a smile on his lips. Mae pressed her lips together to suppress the giggle threatening to come out.

“Say, luv, since it’s a special day …” John rubbed his chin thoughtfully, then pulled Paul aside to whisper in his ear. The two men conversed for several seconds, with some of the teenage girls looking on. After a while, John and Paul returned to Mae, an unreadable look on their faces.

“Mae, was it?” John resumed speaking. “Since it’s your birthday, how would you like a tour of Abbey Studios and then a special Happy Birthday song sung by your dear, old boys?”

Mae felt her jaw drop. Mabel made a sound of utter, complete surprise and many of the surrounding girls shot looks jealousy at Mae. She quickly composed herself and answered yes promptly.

“Do you mind, though, if I invite some friends along?” She asked tentatively.

The four men looked to each other and shrugged, nodding their consent. Mae immediately grabbed hold of Mabel’s hand, who squeezed back tightly. Then, Mae called out for Izzy and Lorelai, who, at once, came running to both sisters. The four girls felt like they were about to burst from excitement as they were led into Abbey Studios by The Beatles themselves. They couldn’t help but to glance back and crack smirks to the rest of the girls left standing outside, looking miserable.