Beatlemania!

“So where are we taking him?” John whispered into my ear conspicuously as we got into the car.
I frowned. “He’s your son, John. You figure it out.”
“Well I don’t know – Cyn always took care of that stuff,” he mumbled childishly.
I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Lennon. Think!”
“I. . . I think he likes the zoo,” John shrugged almost carelessly.

My blood started to boil, and I turned to Julian.

“Where do you want to go, Jules?” I asked cheerfully, buckling him up.
“I’m hungry,” he announced instead.
My face lit up. “We can go to a restaurant!”
“Not with this face,” John reminded me, pointing at his famous Beatleness.
“Okay, let’s just head back to Kenwood – would Cynthia mind? We could bake biscuits,” I suggested.
“Cyn won’t mind,” John yawned, leaning back into his seat.

Julian had perked up at the mention of biscuits, and while one Lennon was dead silent, the other was chatty and very nice to me.
~

The biscuits were finished, Julian was napping, and John was smoking in the kitchen. I hovered awkwardly, fiddling with a pencil absentmindedly.

“Stop that,” John snapped irritably.

I stopped immediately, frowning at myself. The last thing I wanted to do was aggravate John. He was already cross with me.

“I’m sorry,” I offered. “I didn’t realize you would be so irritated by us. I should have taken him somewhere myself.”

John was silent.

“Although, you might have tried a little harder to bond with him,” I added, raising my voice slightly. “He is your son, after all.”

His head shot up to look at me; his hazel-ish eyed piercing through me until I looked at my shoes in defeat.

“I don’t know my son.”

He didn’t say it sadly, and he didn’t say it angrily. He said it in dull realization. “I don’t know my own fucking son. And he doesn’t know me either. That’s not supposed to be me and Julian. Damn it, that’s me and my father.”

I looked at him in surprise. “You can fix it, John. He’s still young.”
John ignored me. “Julian knows Paul better than he knows me. I should just let McCartney sign the adoption papers and be done with it.”

I knew he didn’t mean it, but my heart sank. “Yes, Julian likes Paul, but he loves you! You’re his dad! You had no father as a child to look up to, but Julian is lucky enough to have you.”
John snorted. “Right. Because I’m such a good role model.”

“You are! You’ve leaped over every obstacle life’s put in front of you; and your music is almost as good as the Rolling Stones’,” I teased.

John cracked a minute smile at that. “How dare you! Get out of my house!”
I rolled my eyes, resuming my fiddling of the pencil. “Your signature hairstyle and head-shaking is getting boring, my dear.”

“You’re trying to change the subject.”

“Did it work?” I asked hopefully.

John shrugged. “For now.”
~
“We’ve wanted to tell you all for a long time now,” Pattie’s eyes were sparkling.
“Yes, very long, considering it happened about twenty three hours ago,” George piped, kissing her cheek fondly.

The rest of us (John, Ringo, Paul, Cynthia, Maureen and I) watched with a rather confused expression on our faces. I sipped my Guinness beer in amusment. The two of them were so adorable.

“Oh be quiet you,” Pattie smiling lovingly.
“Don’t toy with me, woman,” George replied in a gruff voice.
John had had enough. “Pack it in, both of you! It’s disgusting!”
“You’re making the rest of us feel bad,” I added with a cheerful grin.
George laughed. “Right well. . .”
“We’re getting married!” Pattie shrieked.

I choked on my beer as everybody leaped up from their seats to congratulate them. I coughed like mad until Ritchie was nice enough to slap me on the back repeatedly until I smacked him back.

“Pattie!” I finally exclaimed, hugging her with glee. “I’m so happy for you!”
“Thank you so much Alice,” she smiled softly at me. “I hope to be married this month.”
“This month!” I exclaimed. “That’s so soon!”

George turned and I hugged him too. After returning the embrace, he turned to his fiancée.

“We don’t want to wait.”
My heart filled with bubbles. “Oh shut up you two, I’m going to start crying soon.”
~

George and Pattie opted for a small wedding in a church just outside of Somerset. Paul was the best man, but John and Ringo were advised to not make an appearance, so as to throw off the press.

It was a very low key ceremony, but the reception was large but respectable. The usual stars were present, but surprisingly enough, no drugs were brought out at all. Perhaps it was because there were several kids present, or maybe they were showing the Harrisons some respect.

Pattie’s dress was one to be envied. It was fitted and lacy, and it suited her perfectly.

“Hello, love,” a deep, familiar voice whispered in my ear as I sat alone, sipping wine.
I almost choked when I saw who it was.

“Mick!” I gasped. “How are you?”
He smiled with those famous lips. “I’m fine, may I join you?”

I nodded wordlessly, and he took Paul’s place next to me. He glanced around the reception curiously.

“Where are the rest of your Beatle friends?” he asked with a grin.
I couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Paul’s somewhere about, and Ringo and John are somewhere else.”

Mick touched my shoulder briefly. “No need to get shy, Alice. We’ll just act like that night didn’t happen, okay?”
I smiled at him, rather relieved. “Oh good.”
“Although that night was fantastic-”

I slapped him. “Cut it out.”
“What? It was! And if you weren’t dating McCartney I would insist we run away together,” Mick leaned a little closer.

I smiled angelically. “You’re very charming, Mick, but I wouldn’t push your luck.”
Mick Jagger laughed. “How about a dance, then?”
“I don’t think so, Mick.” Paul had returned from the toilet, and he looked a little bit ticked off.
“Simmer down, McCartney,” Mick grinned. “You seem nervous.”
“Just get away from me girl, Jagger,” Paul replied jokingly, putting an am around my waist.
“See you later, Alice,” Mick winked at me and sauntered off.

I burst out laughing as soon as he left.

“What?” Paul looked confused.
I kissed him boldly. “I just think you’re pretty.”

Paul started to drag me out onto the dance floor. “I can’t argue with you there.”
~

Things started to go wrong by the time October blended into November.

“Come on, Alice, I haven’t seen you properly since the wedding,” Paul complained.
I was growing angry now. “Paul, I have other priorities right now. My work life is slowly falling into a pit!”
“Well if you don’t watch out, so will your personal life,” Paul snapped, before picking up his coat and slamming the flat’s door on his way out.

It was in the middle of November that I moved out of Paul’s flat and into a smaller one in the heart of London.

“You don’t need to,” Paul insisted. “Really.”
“It’s just a change, Paul. I can afford it now,” I reassured him with a weak smile.

Truth is, I wasn’t sure what was going on with Paul these days. I just wanted to be ready in case things fell apart.

It’s a good thing I was.
~

John announced in the beginning of December that he was off to Spain for Christmas, and to film a movie called How I Won the War. Dick Lester had asked him personally, and with no more touring, John didn’t always know what to do with himself.

The boys had started recording a few songs for their new album, but they told me I had to wait until1 1967 before I could start invading the studio. That was fine. I needed to focus on work and Dad anyhow.

Dad was seeing someone now; a woman called Susan. I had met her several times, and she seemed fine. But I was stupid, and I loved my mother too much to really like Susan properly.

Pattie became my confidante. We gossiped at restaurants and ranted on shopping trips. But when it came to serious talk, we took a stroll around town.

“I don’t know what to do, Pattie,” I groaned. “She seems so nice…”
“It’s perfectly understandable Alice,” Pattie soothed. “A mother is a hard person to forget.”
“Or replace,” I added darkly. I stopped to look at a shop window. “Oh, look, Pattie – that dress would be fantastic on you.”

When she didn’t answer, I tugged her arm. “Pattie, look-”

I looked up and saw her staring at something else. I followed her gaze and I felt my head grow dizzy.

There, across the street, standing under a tree in the park was Paul, and he was most certainly kissing another woman.
~